I couldn’t even imagine how the upcoming Rite would go.
But I didn’t think I could ever go back to the gardens, no matter how much I loved them and the roses therein. Even now, just looking at the shadowy outline of the garden through the windows brought forth an image of Rylan’s blank stare.
Drawing in a shallow breath, I pulled my attention from the garden to the front of the Hall. Members of the Court, those who had Ascended, stood the closest, flanking the dais. Behind them were the Ladies and Lords in Wait. Royal Guards stood among them, their shoulders bearing white mantles with the Royal Crest. Merchants and businessmen, villagers and laborers crowded the hall, all there to petition the Court for one thing or another, air their grievances, or curry favor with His or Her Grace.
Plenty of the faces that stared up at us were wide-eyed and slack-jawed with awe. For some, this was the first time they’d seen the brown-haired beauty, Duchess Teerman, or the coolly handsome Duke, whose hair was so blond it was almost white. For many, this was the first time they’d been as close as they were to an Ascended.
They looked like they were in the presence of the gods themselves, and in a way, I guessed they were. The Ascended were descendants of the gods, by blood, if not by birth.
And then there was…me.
Nearly none of the commoners who stood in the Great Hall had ever seen the Maiden before. For that alone, I was subjected to many curious, quick glances. I imagined that word of Malessa’s death and my attempted abduction had also traveled widely by now, and I was sure that had aided in the curiosity and the buzz of anxious energy that seemed to permeate the Hall.
Except for Tawny. She looked half-asleep as she stood there, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek when she smothered a yawn. We’d been here for nearly two hours already, and I wondered if the Teermans’ asses ached as much as my feet were beginning to.
Probably not.
Both looked mighty comfortable. The Duchess was dressed in yellow silk, and even I could admit that the Duke cut a rather dashing figure in his black trousers and tailcoat.
He always reminded me of the pale snake I’d once stumbled upon near the beach as a little girl. Beautiful to look upon, but its bite dangerous and often deadly.
Swallowing a sigh as the banker began to speak of their great leadership, I started to look toward the Temples—
I saw him.
Hawke.
A strange, funny little hitch took up residence in my chest at the sight of him. He stood between two pillars, arms folded across his broad chest. Like yesterday, there was no teasing half-grin on his face, and his features would’ve been considered severe if it weren’t for the unruly strands of midnight-hued hair tumbling over his forehead, softening his expression.
A tingling sense of awareness swept down my spine, spreading tiny bumps all over my skin. Hawke’s gaze was lifted to the dais, to where I stood, and even from across the hall and from behind the veil, I swore our gazes connected. Air whooshed from my lungs, and the entire Hall seemed to fade away, going silent as we stared at one another.
My heart thumped heavily as my hands spasmed open and then closed. He was staring at me, but so were a lot of others. Even the Ascended often stared.
I was a curiosity, a sideshow put on display once a week to serve as a reminder that the gods could actively intervene in births and in lives.
But my legs still felt strange, and my pulse fluttered as if I’d spent the last hour practicing different combat techniques with Vikter.
Magnus, a steward to the Duke, announced the next to speak, drawing my attention. “Mr. and Mrs. Tulis have requested a word, Your Graces.”
Dressed in simple but clean clothing, the fair-headed couple stepped out from a grouping of those waiting toward the back. The husband had his arm around his shorter wife’s shoulders, keeping her tucked close to his side. Hair pulled back from her bloodless face, the woman wore no jewels but held a small swaddled bundle in her arms. The bundle stirred as they approached the dais, little arms and legs stretching the pale blue blanket. Their gazes were fixed to the floor, heads bowed slightly. They didn’t look up, not until the Duchess gave them permission to do so.
“You may speak,” she said, her voice hauntingly feminine and endlessly soft. She sounded like someone who’d never raised their voice or hand in anger. Neither were untrue, and for what had to be the hundredth time, I wondered exactly what she and the Duke had in common. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even seen them touch one another—not as if that was necessary for the Ascended to marry.
Unlike others, Mr. and Mrs. Tulis clearly shared a wealth of feelings for one another. It was the way Mr. Tulis held his wife close, and in the way she lifted her gaze, first to him and then to the Duchess.
“Thank you.” The wife’s nervous gaze darted to the male Royal. “Your Grace.”
Duke Teerman tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It is our pleasure,” he told her. “What can we do for you and your family?”
“We are here to present our son,” she explained, turning so the bundle faced the dais. The little face was creased and ruddy as he blinked large eyes.
The Duchess leaned forward, hands remaining clasped in her lap. “He is darling. What is his name?”
“Tobias,” the father answered. “He takes after my wife, as cute as a button, if I dare say so myself, Your Grace.”
My lips curled into a grin.
“That he is.” The Duchess nodded. “I do hope all is well with you and the babe?”
“It is. I’m perfectly healthy, just like him, and he’s been a joy, a true blessing.” Mrs. Tulis straightened, holding the baby close to her breast. “We love him very much.”
“Is he your first son?” the Duke asked.
Mr. Tulis’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. “No, Your Grace, he isn’t. He’s our third son.”
The Duchess clapped her hands together. “Then Tobias is a true blessing, one who will receive the honor of serving the gods.”
“That’s why we’re here, Your Grace.” The man slipped his arm from around his wife. “Our first son—our dear Jamie—he…he passed no more than three months ago.” Mr. Tulis cleared his throat. “It was a sickness of the blood, the Healers told us. It came on real quick, you see. One day, he was fine, chasing around and getting into all kinds of trouble. And then the following morning, he didn’t wake up. He lingered for a few days, but he left us.”
“I’m incredibly sorry to hear that.” Sorrow filled the Duchess’s voice as she settled back in her seat. “And what of the second son?”
“We lost him to the same sickness that took Jamie.” The mother began to tremble. “No more than a year into his life.”
They’d lost two sons? My heart was already aching for them. Even with the loss I’d experienced in my life, I couldn’t even begin to understand the kind of anguish a parent must suffer when they lose a child, let alone two. If I felt it, I knew I would want to do something about it, and I couldn’t. Not here. I locked down my gift.
“That is truly a tragedy. I hope you find solace in the knowledge that your dear Jamie is with the gods, along with your second born.”
“We do. It’s what’s gotten us through his loss.” Mrs. Tulis gently rocked the baby. “We come today to hope, to ask….” She trailed off, seeming unable to finish.