Chapter 15: Chapter Thirteen

I walked out of my bedroom door right as Erick was passing by, his silver and black uniform shimmering under the light. The runes embroidered into his short cape gave him a dangerous air, and the black velvet of his uniform made his silvery hair seem to glow in contrast.

"Erick," My mouth felt stiff as I turned to him. I would not admire the traitor. I would not.  "Glad to see you've healed so quickly."

Still bowing, he said, "Thank you, My lady."

"My Lady, Master Luke is waiting," Beth said as she exited my bedroom before Jeanne and Elsie. Erick froze when he heard her voice then spun to face her.

"Beth. What are you doing here?" There were no honorifics when talking to her, just the tones of an angry friend.

I backed up so that I could observe them both. If this woman was someone, Erick knew well, and if he was surprised, then she must have been someone he knew from Earth. And, if that was the case, then that meant she would be a pivotal person to learn who was instrumental in my childhood betrayal. Beth was bright red and staring back at him defiantly.

Beth's face flushed, but her defiance didn't waver. "The Elect chose me to be her banmuinen," she said, lifting her chin.

His glare went to me, "What are you planning, My Lady?"

"Planning?" Really. He would immediately start blaming me? Oh I see.  "The only thing I'm planning is how to get out of this place. The ladies asked me, and I said yes. Elsie told me they all were honored — a better job and all that. Beth could have said no."

Both of my brows shot up.

His focus returned to Beth, who folded her arms and looked away.

"Her banmuinen!" He sounded accusatory, and that just had me more intrigued.

Beth's silence was telling, her gaze shifting away from mine. Whatever was between them, it wasn't something either of them wanted to discuss in front of me.

Erick's frustration boiled over, and he slammed his hand down on the banister, the sharp sound echoing in the stairwell. Without another word, he stormed down the stairs, his footsteps heavy and angry, the front door slamming shut behind him.

"Beth." My voice was sharp, demanding. "What just happened?"

Her lips trembled, but she didn't answer, her defiance cracking at the edges.

"We would all like to know," Elsie said, her voice grim as she put herself between Beth and me, "If you came here under pretenses to harm the Elect, we shall punish you."

From the obstinate clenching of  Beth's jaw, I knew she would not share.

Elsie turned to me, stunned by Beth's rudeness, "I am so sorry about this. I'll make sure we remove her."

"Not yet." I eyed Beth. "We'll talk to my jailor about it. Maybe he can help us learn a few things."

"My Lady, to call the Master your jailor is a little..." Elsie began to admonish.

I turned to her and when she saw the frustration on my face, she curtseyed, "I suppose you have a right to feel so, My Lady. I hope your feelings change.

Beth gaped at me, her hostility having melted to worry. I smirked. Good.  Have her worry. She'd been a pill all morning and now it was time for a little groveling. After giving her a long  look, I continued down the stairs.  My stomach rumbled then, ruining my haughty exit. "How long have I been out? I didn't see any clocks in my room. "

"The staff is preparing breakfast," Jeanne replied.

Not only had my world been turned upside down, and my heart felt all torn apart, but I'd also missed an entire day of meals. "Hopefully, he won't pontificate too long; I feel like my stomach is trying to eat itself."

Bertha's peach pie! Would I ever see it again? And when I thought about the pie, I also thought of cheesecake and Dom.

Dom!

I hurried down the stairs. I had no time to fantasize about food when my friends were still in danger.

By the time we reached Luke's office, I felt like I was running on fumes. I pushed the door open and found Luke standing behind his desk, dressed in something that looked even more elaborate than before. His jacket was a shimmering silver, embroidered with delicate vines and flowers that curled around the sleeves. It was tailored perfectly, accentuating his tall, lean frame. A silver sash crossed over his chest, clasped with a brooch shaped like a woman's hand holding a flower. His entire outfit screamed Look at me, I'm here to impress you.

Next to him stood a man who immediately made my skin crawl despite looking quite ordinary. He was tall and thin, with sandy-blonde hair cropped so short that his scalp shone through. His eyes were pale blue, almost watery, but sharp enough that they seemed to pierce through me. Unlike Luke, his attire was plain—just a burgundy coat with gold accents at the collar and cuffs. There was something about his simplicity that felt more dangerous.

Luke stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Lady Elect Madeline," he said, his tone formal but soft. "This is Consul Parson Metovis."

"Pleasure to meet you," Parson said with a smile that made my stomach twist. His voice was smooth, and polished, like he was used to charming people—but I wasn't charmed.

I nodded stiffly. "Nice to meet you."

Parson's pale eyes flickered to Luke, then back to me, his smile widening. "I see Luke has dressed to impress." His voice held an edge of mockery, and he gestured at Luke's elaborate outfit. "Quite the getup, isn't it? These clothes... they're meant to show his willingness to serve, to impress you. To show that he's the ideal consort—a man ready to submit to your rule." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Quite the effort, isn't it?"

Luke's face remained impassive, but I could see the tension in his jaw. He stood still, enduring Parson's mockery without reacting.

I gave Parson a cold stare. "It isn't funny to make fun of others. It just makes you look small."

Parson's smile faltered for a brief moment before his eyes gleamed with amusement, as though he found my defense of Luke cute rather than cutting. "Ah, My Lady, such fire." He clasped his hands behind his back, leaning slightly toward me, his voice dropping to a more conspiratorial tone. "But you misunderstand me. It's not mockery, per se. Just an observation. In our society, men —especially men with power—go to great lengths to show their devotion. To prove they're worthy of a woman's favor. It's a delicate dance of submission and strength, and Luke... well, he certainly knows the steps."

I glanced at Luke, whose jaw tightened further, his fists clenching at his sides. He hadn't said a word since Parson began speaking, but his silence spoke volumes. Parson was a man that could ruin you if you dared to cross him.

"I think he looks fine," I said firmly, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. "If this is a dance, as you say, then he's doing just fine."

Parson chuckled again, but there was no warmth in the sound. He shifted his attention back to me, his pale eyes narrowing slightly. "Well then, since you're already filling up your court, allow me to offer my humble suggestion. My son, Ios."

I blinked, taken off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Your son?"

"Indeed." Parson's smile returned, sharper than before. "Ios is not only a skilled warrior but also a mage—one of the strongest. He's disciplined, powerful, and loyal. Qualities you'll find quite valuable in your court, especially given the... nature of the trials ahead."

I asked, my voice edged with suspicion. "What about the trials?"

Parson raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Oh? Luke hasn't told you?" He glanced at Luke, the smirk on his face deepening. "My dear, these trials are not just a test of skill or intelligence. They are deadly. Some of the Elect do not survive. It's a risk, a dangerous one. Which is why you need strong men—like Ios—in your court."

My blood ran cold. I turned to Luke, who finally spoke, his voice low. "I was going to tell you, My Lady, but we hadn't yet had the opportunity to discuss everything in detail."

"You should have told her everything from the start, Luke," Parson said with a dismissive wave. "Leaving out such crucial details... tsk tsk." He returned his gaze to me, his smile once again plastered on his face. "I only bring this up because I care about your safety, My Lady. With men like Ios by your side, you'd have nothing to fear."

The air in the room felt heavy like I was sinking deeper into a pit of confusion and fear. The idea of competing in trials that could kill me—that could kill my friends—was terrifying.

"Ios will be at the ceremony tonight," Parson continued, his voice syrupy sweet. "You'll have the chance to meet him, of course. And I'm sure you'll find him... suitable."

"Tonight?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat. "The Becoming Ceremony is tonight?"

Parson nodded. "Yes, didn't Luke mention that either?" His smile widened as he relished in dropping yet another bomb. "Her Eminence, Valenia, has graciously moved everything up. So that homecoming party has turned into the event of the century where you'll formally begin your journey to becoming the Principi. And you'll need to choose your court before then."

I stared at him, trying to process everything. The ceremony. The trials. The death hanging over every decision. And now, I was expected to choose a court—a group of men to help me survive—by tonight?

Luke finally stepped forward, his voice steady but tense. "Your friends will be part of your court, My Lady. It's the only way to ensure we have enough numbers."

That is if they even agreed!

Parson laughed softly, noting my distress. "Yes, it seems you've already started gathering your court, though not quite as... traditionally as we would have expected. Still, there are slots left to fill. Ios is one of the best candidates, and I'm sure he'd be more than willing to serve you." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Trust me, My Lady, you'll want to make sure those spots are filled. The trials can be... unforgiving."

I swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on me. "I'll decide when I meet him."

Parson's grin was back in full force as he bowed low. "Of course, My Lady. I'm sure you'll make the right choice." He straightened, turning to Luke with a sly smile. "I look forward to seeing you both at the ceremony."

Luke's jaw was set, his eyes blazing with barely contained frustration. He gave Parson a curt nod, stepping aside to let him leave.

As soon as Parson was gone, the tension in the room seemed to thicken. I turned to Luke, my chest tight. "Why didn't you tell me everything?"

Luke looked contrite and his posture stiffened. "I wanted to ease you into this, My Lady. There's so much at stake, and I didn't want to overwhelm you. I—" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I'm sorry. I should have known that the Temple would do something like this. "

The apology hung in the air between us, and I didn't know how to respond. There was no time to dwell on it, though. The Becoming Ceremony was tonight, and I had decisions to make.

"Come," Luke said softly, gesturing toward the door. "There's much to prepare."