Chapter 19

UNA

"They're too sweet." Hava scrunched her cute face into one of disgust, then spit out the bite of maragord.

I laughed, nearly dropping my basket of ripe maragords the two of us had collected together.

"We treasure these in Issos," I said. "They're so hard to get, and only once a year do we receive a shipment from the northern region of Lumeria. I suppose I can have them anytime I want now."

"No," said Hava. "The maragord grove only bears fruit this time of year. But our cooks are brilliant. They make preserves in jars that last the year." She made that disgusted face again. "I simply do not like them at all."

"You prefer savory foods?" I asked.

Her red eyes widened with excitement. "Spicy foods. Mmmm. The cooks are preparing a rare feast with the eskel and tusked boar from the recent hunt. The feast we will have for the court following the Rite of Servium."

I knew what that was, but not what would happen. "Can you tell me about the rite?"

"That is what Dalya is here for," came the baritone voice behind me.

I turned suddenly, finding King Goll standing next to the maragord tree we'd just picked from, Dalya at his side. Their dark coloring and deep, moon-gray skin made them look like a perfect royal couple, like they belonged together.

The intrusive thought churned acid in my belly. Goll took a step closer to me, asking in a low voice, "Are you well, Mizrah?"

It reminded me of last night and all the feelings I'd had as I fell asleep with his cloak tucked in the bed with me. I'd been disgusted by myself this morning, folding the cloak by the door and had asked Hava to return it to him.

"Yes." I looked past his shoulder to the High Oracle, her keen gaze on the two of us. "I would very much like to speak with Oracle Dalya about the rite."

He stepped away. "I will see you at dinner." He gave a look to Hava, who instantly dipped her head and left. Goll looked back at me, his expression inscrutable, no telling what he was thinking. Then he simply walked away.

When I turned to Dalya, she seemed to be waiting for me to say something first. It was a polite mannerism given to the host in Issos. I suppose this was my home, not hers, so I gestured down the path.

"There is a quiet place to sit and talk just beyond the grove."

She nodded and fell in step next to me as I led the way. I'd only been here two days and one night, yet this grove was right below my window. I'd studied it from my bedchamber, and had spent the better part of today wandering its paths with Hava.

Where the grove ended, there was a manicured walkway with tall, thin evergreen trees lining either side. Up ahead, the tall evergreens surrounded a gray stone courtyard. At its center was a statue of a fae female, her pointed ears prominent, her stare into the distance beguiling, her gown pressed to her body as if she stood facing an unseen wind. Since she had no webbed feet or hands and no wings, I knew she must be a wood fae.

"This is Vix's Mizrah, is she not?" I asked, though I was sure she must be.

"Yes. The third wraith king of Northgall, Eerlion, had this statue commissioned for our god Vix's mate, but he used his own mizrah as the model."

"She is lovely."

"She is."

Stepping closer, I noted a small iron plaque. "There is an inscription." It was in demon tongue.

" Vix is here," I read . "He guards and keeps the realm of his demon kin. He gives the king the right to rule and gives him his beloved, fruitful treasure. And then in quotes, it says, ‘ I choose you.' "

"Your translation is perfect." Dalya smiled.

"Thank you."

"I've spent many meditations with my priestesses in the palace gardens, but those are also ceremonial words."

"Why do you meditate here?" I wondered aloud. In Issos, the priests and priestesses remained in their white temple for prayer and meditation.

"To the wraith fae, this place where N?kt Mir sits is the most sacred and hallowed of grounds. The palace itself was built from the volcanic rock left behind from our revered god Vix. When his mizrah died and he had laid her to rest, his grief caused the eruption of Vixet Krone thousands of years ago."

I'd read something somewhat similar, but it was Vix's anger that had caused the eruption. And it burned anyone who was too close, the fires of his wrath roasting them alive. But now, I wondered at the stories that had been written down and transcribed, then taught to me and all other Issosians. There was a discrepancy somewhere. I simply wasn't sure if it was more on our end or the dark faes.

"Everyone keeps calling me ‘mizrah.' But I am not that title yet. One of the councilman said as much."

Dalya stared at me with her lovely golden eyes. "He has chosen you. It is the king's right, guided by the gods, to choose his mizrah."

"Guided by the gods." I huffed a laugh, taking a seat on the bench in front of the iron statue. "This has nothing to do with destiny. This was the king's chosen ending to the war, to show Issos how powerful he is."

Dalya took her seat next to me, angling toward me, her hands demurely clasped in her lap. "Simply because you were taken as a war prize to be his mizrah does not negate that it could also be fated by the gods."

I blinked at her, but her expression gave nothing away. "Do you believe that?"

"I believe…it is possible. But not certain."

"Does Goll believe that?"

When she flinched, I realized I'd used his first name, not his proper title or Sire or my liege or my king . I simply preferred to think of him as Goll, the man who'd saved me. The young prince who showed me compassion and kindness once.

"King Goll does believe that you are destined to be his mizrah." Her gaze swept up to my wings.

I fidgeted with my cloak's tasseled drawstrings which dangled in my lap.

"What will happen during this Rite of Servium? Servium means selection, correct?"

She turned her attention back to the statue. "Yes. It also means to serve . It is the king's right to choose his mizrah during the selection."

"I am aware of that." The sardonic words slipped through my lips.

She looked back at me. "It is a privilege to be chosen as our king's mizrah."

"It was not a privilege to be taken from my home, to be forced to be his—" I could not finish the sentence.

"To be forced to be his ," she stated without an addendum. "He will guard and protect you above all others. He will keep you safe above his own life. He will serve you as you serve him by begetting his heir."

My brow pinched and I stared at Dalya in confusion. "Is this how all kings treated their mizrahs? I read that King Goll's father murdered his mizrah, Goll's own mother. Xakiel did the opposite of protecting her."

She actually smiled. "King Goll is not his father. He takes his oaths seriously."

A breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves, drawing my attention back to the grove. The weather was turning toward winter.

"I was told by one of my scholars in Issos that wraith fae do not believe in marriage the way we moon fae do. Is this ceremony similar to a moon binding? A union between two fae?"

"Many wraith fae complete the Rite of Servium, but they take mates, not a mizrah as the king does."

"But a mate implies there is only the two of them. I will simply be his chief concubine. He will take others once his child is born," I added bitterly.

She did not reply, did not say that I was wrong. I was not a fool to think that even the noblemen of Issos did not take lovers behind their wives' backs. Wraith fae simply did it out in the open.

"Some wraith males choose only one mate," she added quietly.

I held her golden gaze. "But not a king."

Her smile was somewhat sad when she added, "He will always keep you safe."

But he would not be faithful to me once I was with child. Why I was so obsessed with this thought, I had no idea. I should be overjoyed I'd be forced to be his bedmate for only a short time. Yet a thickness built in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

I inhaled deeply. "Tell me what will happen at this ceremony."

"Before the ceremony, my priestesses and I will take you below the palace."

I flinched and jerked my head toward her.

"No." She shook her head. "Not to the dungeon. Not to that part of the palace. Deeper below, there is a cave left behind by the god Vix. There is a lake called N?kt Lykenzel. It is god-touched. Every mizrah must bathe in this lake the night of the ceremony. It is where the dead speak to the living." She paused, looking down at her hands. "Mizrahs are sometimes given visions by the gods. If the gods deem them unsuitable to be the king's mizrah, she may suffer."

"How do you mean?"

"Some have been given painful visions that damage the female fae. Some have never come back up alive."

I stared in shock for a moment. "You are telling me I could die?" My voice rose with a sudden spike of anxiety.

"King Goll is certain that you are meant to be his. He claims this will not happen to you."

"I suppose if King Goll says it, then it's all fine." I crossed my arms to stop the tremble of dread as I stared up at the statue. "What then? If I survive my bath in the lake."

"We will take you back to your bedchamber and paint your body in the sacred symbols. Then you will be taken to the throne room where the king and his court await."

"Painted?" I asked, unsure what she meant.

"Your entire body. From your neck down so all can see your demon sign and that you are healthy to bear his child. In that state, you will walk a circle through the court for all to see. Then you will take your place, kneeling within the circle beneath his throne. He will light feyfire to surround you, a symbol of his protection, then he will say the ceremonial words of the Servium. He will then take you within that circle. And bite you."

By now, I was trembling, trying to imagine how I'd possibly be able to walk and parade through his court naked, so that what? They could all inspect my body to be sure I was worthy to carry a wraith fae royal child? The humiliation of it. Then my attention snagged on to the last part.

"Are you saying that he will consummate the union in the throne room in front of"—I swallowed hard—"in front of everyone?"

"It is common of wraith kings. It is a way to show everyone that he has chosen her and that no one has the right to bed her but him. That it is his seed that plants the child and no other. It is tradition."

It was barbaric.

My stomach rolled with nausea. All words stuck in my throat, I couldn't even question for what purpose he would bite me. "Excuse me." I jolted to my feet and walked swiftly away.

"Do not fear, Mizrah," she called after me. "It is an honor he bestows upon you."

I half-laughed at her parting words, swallowing hard against the thickness in my throat, the tears pricking my eyes, and the bitterness in my heart.

Ferryn stood not too far away, waiting for me. He was assigned to me today. His frown deepened when he saw my distress, scowling past my shoulder at Dalya.

"Are you well, Mizrah?"

I swept past him. "No. I am not."

He quickly stepped in line beside me. "Should I summon the king?"

"Why would you summon him ?" I asked, dumbfounded as I hurried toward the back entrance of the castle. "He cannot help me. He is the cause of my distress."

Ferryn remained quiet, following close behind me into the palace and up the back stairwell, as if there was some way for him to protect me against the emotions now spinning me into a wild panic. I bit my lip to keep from making a noise, but the tears came, nonetheless.

"Mizrah, please let me help you," he said with deep sincerity. He had once seemed colder than his twin Meck. Now, his kindness somehow made me cry harder.

I stumbled on a step and inhaled deeply, the tears coming hot and fast now.

"Please, Mizrah." He offered an arm.

I took it and let him lead me up the staircase, leaning my weight against him so I wouldn't crumble in a heap on the stairs. "I can't do this," I whispered to myself.

"You can," Ferryn encouraged me, continuing to carry most of my weight up the steps. "You are the mizrah our kingdom has been waiting for, my mistress. Beside the king, you will lead Northgall into a new era of strength and prosperity and beauty."

His words of encouragement only made me sadder. I didn't feel like this person he described. How was that to be me?

I stumbled again, my eyes blurry from tears.

"It's all right." He helped me with a gentle arm around my waist. "I've got you."

Once at my bedchamber, he opened the door and then stepped back respectfully, bowing his head.

"I will be out here if you need anything at all."

"Thank you, Ferryn."

Then I closed the door, tumbled into my bed, and wept till I fell asleep.

I awoke to Hava stoking the fire that had gone out in the grate. It was late afternoon by the color of the sky.

For a moment, I blinked awake, simply soaking in the beauty of my bedchamber, then I remembered. My heart sank with dread.

"Time to wake up, my mistress," said Hava, bustling over to the wardrobe where she'd put away my dresses. "You must get changed for dinner."

Sitting up, I said, "I'm not going."

Hava turned her surprised red eyes on me. "Are you sick?"

I huffed a laugh. Sick to my soul , I thought. But I shook my head.

"No, Hava. I'm not dining with him ."

She paused, watching me carefully. "You are angry with him?"

"Very," I snapped, standing and striding to the window, feeling sluggish and tired and sad. I pushed open the glass pane, needing the fresh air.

I'd never wished for the use of my wings more in all my life, desperate to leap from this window and fly far away. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes.

"My king will not like it if you refuse to dine with him," said Hava quietly, closer behind me now.

My sadness evaporated like a whiff of smoke, pure fury taking its place. I whirled. "Really? The king will be upset ? " My voice rose. "Gods forbid!"

"Mistress, is there something I can do to—?"

She didn't get to finish her sentence because Goll slammed the door open so hard it hit the wall behind it. His dark gaze went to me then circled the room in an instant. He was obviously looking to find some danger, the reason he apparently heard my raised voice.

I crossed my arms and glared daggers at him. When he realized the danger wasn't a threat against me but rather coming from me, he commanded quietly, "Leave, Hava."

She half flew, half ran out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Goll said nothing at first, simply stared, taking in my fuming anger. Then he strode to the middle of the room, closer to where I remained with my back to the window.

"This is about your visit with Dalya," he stated.

I swallowed hard, trying to regain control of my temper before I spoke, but it was no use.

"This is about the fact that you expect me to go through some sort of wraith fae ritual that could kill me."

He didn't flinch. Not at all. Like this news was nothing to him. Like my life meant nothing.

"You will not die," he said so calmly it only made me angrier.

"You don't know that," I hissed.

"I do."

"Because you're king ?" I practically screamed. "You know everything? You're willing to bet my life on it. You care so little about me that you'd let me die to get what you want." I trembled in rage. "Why didn't you just stab me through in Valla Lokkyr and be done with it?"

His cool demeanor slipped as he closed the distance in three long, steady strides. I remained rigid and unmoving. He didn't reach for me, thank the gods.

"Do you think I would risk your life after saving it years ago?"

"I have no idea." I turned away from him and went to the window where the strong breeze blew cold across my face. I gripped the stone sill, relishing the cold on my fingers. "I don't even know who you are," I whispered more to myself. "All I know is what is expected of me. That in order to fulfill the treaty I've agreed to and keep peace in Lumeria, I must bathe in a cursed lake below this castle that might make me go insane or kill me. And if the gods let me survive," I blew out a disgusted breath, "I have to parade naked in front of your entire court and willingly..."

I couldn't say the last aloud. It was difficult to imagine and even more so to say what I would be forced to do. I couldn't even fathom where I'd find the strength to go through with this, if I even lived through the first part of the rite.

I sensed him approach me slowly. When he gripped my shoulders, I flinched. He dropped his hold but kept his body close, a warm, impenetrable wall at my back.

When he spoke, it was that deep, gentle rumble. "I understand that you are frightened. And that you don't understand the importance of the rite."

I wanted to whirl around and yell some more or even better, beat him, but apparently my spirit was deflated. I was exhausted.

"But hear me, Una."

There was a plea in his voice, a desperate tenor I'd never before heard him use.

"I know that this is the path the gods have set before you." He paused then added, "And me."

"Your gods or mine?" I asked, still facing the window, inhaling deeply of the cool air as the sky deepened to purple.

"Both," he answered quickly. And with certainty. "You will bathe in N?kt Lykenzel, and you will not go mad. Nor will you die." His voice was both commanding and gentle. "You will complete the Rite of Servium and become my mizrah as the gods decreed."

Finally, I turned, frowning. "The gods decreed that I would be coerced to leave my home and become your concubine? The gods must hate me."

I was aware of the repulsive lilt in my voice, but could he honestly believe I'd rejoice in such a declaration?

A deep furrow creased his brow. "It is their will."

"How do you know?"

"Dalya has foreseen it."

"That it would be me? The gods gave my name?"

His dragon eyes glowed a piercing blue. "The gods never tell us names. You know that. But I am sure of it. You'll have to trust me."

I arched a brow, my mouth quirking into a cynical smile, "Trust you ?"

His cold gaze finally broke with some vulnerability. I'd actually managed to hurt him, it seemed. It didn't have quite the satisfying effect on me as I'd thought it would.

Just as quickly, the softness vanished behind the austere mask I was accustomed to. The dragon was back, looking down at me with an unreadable expression.

Then he asked, "Are you telling me that you've decided not to go through with it? You've decided to break the treaty?"

I scoffed. "You bastard. You know I won't." Narrowing my gaze, I lifted my chin. "I will go through with your Rite of Servium. I do not break my vows."

My mind flitted to the moon-binding in Valla Lokkyr. I'd already promised myself to this wraith king. And though he dismissed that ceremony as inconsequential, I'd as good as given my heart and soul to him, body too, the night we left Issos.

"Very well," he said coolly. "Then get some rest, Mizrah. You'll need it."

He turned and left quietly, but the silence screamed with tension after he left. Tomorrow, I'd either die in the bowels of this palace in a black lake. Or I'd survive and become the king's official concubine, his vessel to use and toss aside when he was done. At the moment, I wasn't quite sure what was worse.