“I want you to know that I didn't want this. I was happy with my life, and I never imagined that I would ever be here. I know you don't want my pity, and I promise you will never have it. But you must know that I am grieved by your loss, and if there was any way to give you back your title, I would do it.”
Maeve stared at her, an array of emotions flittered across her face. A single tear fell down her cheek as she squeezed Cara's hand. “And I promise you, sweet cousin, that I will do everything in my power to make sure that never happens.”
Chapter 3
“You look beautiful,” Maeve squealed in delight as she entered the room. “The goddess herself will be jealous.”
Cara rolled her eyes at her cousin's enthusiasm. She had been sitting for hours, while Wynnafor had fussed over her.
The weeks leading up to the summer solstice had passed quickly with Maeve as company, and tonight she would finally be released from the Queen's sequester. Cara wasn't sure how she felt about it. She had enjoyed her time with her cousin, and they had grown close during her daily visits. But now she would be forced to interact with the strangers that lived within the palace walls.
Maeve had helped Cara prepare for today's ceremony, and her upcoming tour of the kingdom. The memorization of vows, names, and proper protocol had proven taxing, and she was grateful that her cousin would be with her every step of the way.
Wynnafor wove the last pearl into Cara's hair and handed her a bronze mirror. She gapped at her reflection. Her hair hung loosely in perfect waves down her back, and a crown of pearls had been meticulously braided through the dark tresses.
“It's perfect,” Cara said, which earned her one of Wynnafor's rare smiles.
“Oh Cara, you truly are the most lovely thing I've ever seen.”
Cara smiled and appraised Maeve. “Thank you cousin, but I fear that I will be shadowed by your own beauty. You look stunning.”
Maeve grimaced and began to fidget, biting on her knuckles, which were often chafed and painfully red. Cara had learned through observation that it was a habit Maeve had whenever she felt reprimanded. During their time together Maeve had grown more confident in Cara's presence, but there were still moments like these, when she worried over her cousin's timidity.
“It was a compliment Maeve, not a rebuke. Don't look so despondent.”
“The Queen had the dress made for me,” she fretted, biting her lip. “I didn't want to wear it.”
Now that Cara looked more closely, she noticed that Maeve's dress was very similar to her own which had been made especially for tonight's ceremony. Both dresses were cut from the same white and ivory silk, and elaborately embroidered with pearls. Cara frowned as she realized that Maeve wore a ceremonial garment that transcended her own.
Cara shook off the uneasy feeling. Maeve had proven to be a good friend, and Cara knew there was no deceit in her. She wasn't sure what the Queen was up to, but she was certain that Maeve had no part in it.
Cara smiled and tried to relieve Maeve's anxiety. “You could be wearing a burlap bag and you would still shine brighter than me.”
Maeve's mood remained melancholy as they rode together through the streets of Annul towards the temple. Cara tried to suppress her unease as she watched her cousin stare gloomily out the carriage window.
“It's all right to be angry with me. I'm not sure how I would feel if our roles were reversed,” Cara said.
“Angry?” Maeve echoed, mouth agape. “At you? Why on earth would I have any reason to be angry with you?
“What reason don't you have? This should be your day. It's not fair. You know that I wish that I could change things.”
Maeve shook her head. “I have come to terms with my fate, and I am absolutely certain that the goddess has chosen you wisely. When you stand on the altar tonight, I will pledge my loyalty alongside the Twelve to serve and protect you always. Please Cara, trust me when I tell you that there is only friendship and good will between us.”
Cara sat in the carriage and looked at her cousin in confusion. “Then tell me what is upsetting you?”
Maeve smiled, but the sadness and fear remained heavily painted on her face.
“Forgive me,” Maeve said, as she leaned forward to grip Cara's hand. “I'm feeling in poor health today. It's nothing to worry about.”
Cara could tell it was a lie, but she wouldn't push Maeve any further; it would only cause her to retreat into herself.
“Do you think they are already there?” Cara asked, changing the subject.
“Who? The provincial consorts?” Maeve asked, and Cara nodded. “They would have held vigil in the Temple during the night. They will be waiting in earnest, and they will not be disappointed when they finally lay eyes on you.”
“I hope you're right,” Cara sighed. “But I fear I am a poor substitution for you.”
“I am fragile compared to your strength and goodness. I have no doubt that they will fall madly in love with you the moment they see you.” Cara huffed at Maeve's romanticizing.
“And I have no doubt that all of Elbia will follow suit.”
Cara shook her head in denial. Maeve had so much faith in her, and she was fearful that she wouldn't live up to her cousin's expectations.
The entire process terrified Cara. The romantic tales of passion and rapture that Maeve had told her about past queens and their consorts had done little to quiet her nerves. She had never considered herself romantic by nature, and the thought of having twelve men vying for her affections was overwhelming.
Since she had been isolated in her room over the past month, she had begged Maeve to be her eyes and ears. Her cousin had spent her evenings in the company of the Twelve and the nobles that had come to witness the ceremony. Every night Maeve would return and tell her about the men and their different mannerisms and customs. She had described each one with such detail that Cara was sure she would easily be able to identify them.
She had laughed out loud when Maeve had described Reyn as frustratingly kind and annoyingly loyal. It was a family trait that he shared with his brothers. Although Maeve had been shy to tell her, Cara had been delighted to hear that the two of them had become friends.
Cara missed Callion terribly, and her isolation had only intensified those feelings. Despite the Queen's warning that she was to have no contact with any of the men, Maeve had offered to relay messages between herself and Reyn. It was only through these small graces that Cara hadn't felt completely detached from the world outside her chamber walls.
“Did you see Reyn yesterday? Before he left for the Temple,” Cara asked.
Maeve smiled at the mention of his name. “Only briefly. He wanted me to tell you how proud he and his brothers are of you, and that your father sends his love.”
Cara smiled sadly as a wave of sorrow washed over her. She had known that her father, Herron, and Callion would not be able to make the ceremony. Resources were tight, and they couldn't afford to make the trip without sacrificing more basic needs. Still, she selfishly would have given anything to have them there.
Cara tightened her grip on Maeve's hand. She missed her family terribly, but it was enough to know that Maeve would be with her.
* * *
At the temple of Annul, Cara waited with Maeve in the priestess' quarters. While only patricians were allowed within the Temple to witness the ceremony, the temple grounds and streets were crowded with those who had hoped to get a glimpse of their future queen. Cara had never seen so many people congregated together at once.
An older priestess, wearing the blood red robes and shaved head of her order, entered the chambers and announced, “The time has come. The goddess awaits you.”
“I'm terrified,” Cara admitted, grasping both of Maeve's hands tightly.
Maeve pulled Cara into a quick embrace and whispered in her ear, “You will be magnificent. I am proud to call you cousin, and even prouder to one day call you my queen.”
“Thank you,” Cara said, leaning her forehead aga
inst Maeve's. “For everything.”
“Go.” Maeve gave her a little shove. “I will follow in a moment and we will celebrate tonight.”
Cara took a deep breath, nodded, and followed the priestess through the chamber door.
Maeve held back and waited for the inevitable. For just this one day she would be brave. For Cara she would battle the storm she knew was coming. She would stand her ground no matter what the punishment.
“What are you doing here?” Her mother hissed behind her.
Maeve cringed and turned to confront the Queen's hostility. “Mother.”
“Answer my question.” There was fire in the woman's eyes. ”Why are you not with the girl?”
Maeve took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I won't do it. I won't be part of your plot. Cara is good and kind and she will be an exceptional queen.” Maeve stood tall and stared boldly at her mother. “I won't let you or anyone hurt her.”
The Queen's face turned crimson, but she didn't strike out as Maeve assumed she would.
“So the little mouse has found her voice,” she scowled, and began to circle Maeve slowly. Her eyes were feverish with rage. “You would deny your own mother? For what? The friendship of a worthless Crow bastard. I offer you the kingdom. A husband and child. What does she offer you? What can she possibly give you compared to what I was willing to provide?”
The unexpected response was far from comforting. Maeve had prepared for a physical and mental beating, not questions. Her resolve faltered slightly, but she held her tongue.
The sound that came from the Queen's throat was feral. “And tell me little mouse, how do you plan to stop me?”
“I don't have to stop you, mother. You have already buried yourself in your own wickedness. When the people of Elbia see Cara for who she truly is, there is not one man or woman that will stand behind you over her.”
The Queen struck quickly, grabbing her hair at the base of her neck and pulling Maeve down to her knees. “Wretched little brat. I should have drowned you as I did the others. You will regret defying me.”
Maeve stared at her in shocked silence. The others? There had been rumors, but Maeve hadn't believed her mother could be so heartless. What could she possibly benefit from the death of her own children? It hit her hard as she realized that it had been her crown she was protecting. She had committed infanticide merely to reign longer. Without an heir, she would remain queen.
She looked at her mother in horror.
“Monster,” Maeve hissed.
She gasped as her mother fingers tightened around her throat.
Maeve wheezed and fought for breath. “Kill me then. Get it over with,” she choked.
“Do you think I would be that easy on you?”
Maeve was thrust to the floor, and she inhaled sharply as she tried to catch her breath.
“Guards.” Two of her mother's men entered the room. “The princess is ill. Take her to the infirmary. Tell the physician that he has my consent to commence with the new treatments he recommended. It is time that we rid the princess of her demons once and for all.”
Maeve paled and her legs went weak beneath her as the guards lifted her to her feet. She knew that her mother had just sentenced her to weeks, if not months, of excruciating torture.
“Thank you, mother,” Maeve fought back the tears that threatened to choke her. “You have reminded me why my loyalty lies with a Crow over the beast who calls herself my mother.”
“Get her out of my site.”
Despite the agony that she knew was coming, for the first time in her life Maeve felt free. She would endure the torment knowing that it had been her choice.
* * *
Cara couldn't breathe as she waited in the shadows for the High Priestess to call her forward. The ceremony had commenced some time before, and yet there was no sign of Maeve. She couldn't imagine what kept her, but she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maeve wouldn't have abandoned her without reason.
Cara's blood pounded in her ears, and she could barely make out the High Priestess' words.
Damn it Maeve where are you?
Two young girls, both dressed in the white cloak of a novice, stood on opposite sides of Cara. Like the older priestess, their hair had been shaved, and thick black coal outlined their eyes. Both girls held an object tented in a white shroud, and waited patiently for their cue.
The older priestess in red stood in front of her and placed her hands on either side of Cara's shoulders. She spoke in hushed tones, “May your path honor Annul, and your life magnify her grace. Be filled this day, as the spirit of the holy mother claims your kinship.”
Cara nodded solemnly. Annul was so much more than myth and legend to these people. Maeve had shown her that for those who followed her doctrines, she was the very breath of life. Still, Cara couldn't allow herself to believe, but she also wouldn't deny them their faith, and that meant participating fully in the ceremony without the appearance of skepticism.
The woman handed her a small cup filled with an amber liquid. Cara drank it quickly and cringed at the bitter aftertaste.
Cara heard the dreaded words of the High Priestess that summoned her to the marble dais, the raised platform where the statue of Annul stood and the sacrificial flames burned. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine, and followed the two novices. As she turned the corner, she heard the audible gasps and murmurs that filled the room. The entire temple was dark, except for the hundreds of candles that lit the altar and the sanctifying fire in the brass podium in the center of the platform.
The High Priestess waited for her at the foot of the juncture. Cara glanced quickly at the bowed heads of the men that formed a semicircle around the raised platform of the altar. From Maeve's accounts, Cara recognized Helfrich of Drumlish with his shaggy orange fringe, and Hauk of Northlew whose dark shoulder-length hair was braided with brightly colored beads and feathers. She suppressed a smile as her gaze found Reyn, who like the others, knelt with his head bent in reverence.
The High Priestess was dressed in ceremonial black robes, her face hidden behind a veil. She was the shadow of Annul, cloaked in her mysteries, and hidden from mortal eyes.
Cara shuddered inwardly.
“Caralynne of Elbia, daughter of Annul, the great goddess has found favor with you,” came the voice of the High Priestess.
“Praise to the goddess,” Cara replied, as Maeve had instructed her. “May Annul consecrate my union with her chosen Twelve, and unify Elbia under her righteous hand.”
The two novices came forward and Cara saw the unconcealed objects they now carried. One held a bright red pomegranate, the symbol of life and fertility. The second held a bronze dagger, the symbol of power and death.
The High Priestess began to chant, her voice echoed unnaturally throughout the temple. Taking the dagger, she sliced through the fruit's flesh and handed a half to Cara. “In the name of blessed Annul, may your womb be opened, and the bloodlines of the goddess endure.”
Cara bit into the fruit as was expected, and handed it back to the novice. Both halves were placed on the sacrificial fire, which hissed and smoked as the wet fruit was quickly charred.
The priestess took Cara's left hand and placed it palm up in her own. “She who sees and knows all has called your name Caralynne of Elbia. How do you respond?”
“I am the goddess' daughter. I hear my mother's voice,” Cara affirmed.
The priestess took the bronze dagger and sliced horizontally across Cara's palm. Her breath hitched in her throat at the pain, but she didn't cry out. A crimson pool formed quickly in the center. She walked towards the sacrificial fires and placed her wounded hand above the flames.
Cara hesitated briefly as she remembered the words Maeve had taught her. “By the blood of Annul that runs through my veins, I consecrate my life and the lives of my unborn daughters to the goddess, so her bloodlines will never perish. Where I walk, she walks, what I speak, she speaks. By the goddess' desire let it be so.” r />
Fisting her hand, she watched as her blood dripped slowly into the flames.
The high priestess continued to chant, while one of the novices wrapped Cara's hand in a thin gauze.
Cara turned from the fire. All twelve men were now standing and watching her with mixed expressions. The priestess handed Cara the bronze blade, which was still stained with her blood. Her stomach churned at the thought of what she had to do next.
They would be presented in the order in which she would visit each province.
“Cuch of Lydd,” the priestess acknowledged as the youngest of the Twelve stepped forward.
From the second wealthiest province, Cush was the oldest son of the Viceroy of Lydd, but he had just barely reached the age of majority. Maeve had described him as an over energetic puppy. It was an accurate description and Cara laughed inwardly as the boy kneeled before her, his dishevelled brown curls falling clumsily into large turquoise eyes.
Cara found him charming in his youthful awkwardness.
She smiled at his eagerness, and in return he gave her a lopsided grin that showed deep dimples on both cheeks.
Placing his right hand over his heart, and his left palm outreached towards her, he recited the ceremonial vows that would bind him to her, “Upon the altar of Annul I pledge my loyalty to you, Caralynne of Elbia, daughter of the great goddess. My life is sealed to yours. Where you go I will follow, and my sword will slay your enemies. By the shedding of my blood upon the sacrificial flames, I swear in her holy name that I will be loyal to you above all others. May the goddess in her wisdom strike me down, and the province of Lydd, if I should ever be proven unfaithful.”
Cara's breath hitched in her throat at the enormity of his words. “In the name of Annul I acknowledge you, Cush of Lydd, and find you acceptable in my site.” They were such simple words in comparison, and Cara scoffed at the coldness of the statement.
With a deep breath, Cara brought the blade across his palm. He winced slightly, but his eyes never faltered from hers, and his smile never left his face.