Bonds that Burn and Bind

Chapter 12 Part 2

Then it occurred that I would be all alone again if we stopped our ruse. But more importantly, his words felt like an arrow in the gut. I had thought our fake interest was blossoming into a real friendship I could keep when my mother left me alone in Incartha engaged to a prince who didn't care enough to write even a single letter.

My mother pressed her mouth right next to my ear. "Whatever fight you are having, make up." I pulled back from her wordlessly as she nodded at me.

The cage ground to a halt above a wooden platform with multiple crisscrossing beams.

A beautiful woman, her hair also in a thick rope bun hallowed by flowers much like my own, greeted us right outside the bars. A golden ring pierced her septum, which was common among those from nomadic tribes that occupied the jungles of central Incartha. Her red robes enveloped her slender frame, rippling around her like a stormy crimson sea, marking her as head temple keeper.

Two other temple keepers in plain black robes, a man and a woman, accompanied her. The man's face had been sanded away by time, but the woman, her features more handsome than beautiful, was as clear as quartz crystals. She stood at least a head taller than all of us. Neither I or this woman knew it yet but four years from now she would watch me walk into my family's chapel to marry Fredrick Aimsworth right before the Fae Prince whisked me away.

The tall woman steadied the cage while the man helped us onto the stone ledge in front of the temple.

The temple had been carved into the mountain, like the stone structure far below. But it was nothing compared to the temple we now stood in front of. Multiple towering stacks stretched into the sky, like the towers of sandcastles I used to build on the beaches of Moonas with Daen, Lief, and Stephen when Stephen wasn't pretending to be above playing with his younger siblings. Unlike our sandcastles, the towers weren't lopsided, and intricate carvings decorated them. And as I looked at them carefully, I realized the images told the legend of the Shadowlings and Blood Thorn Mountain.

The woman motioned us to follow her inside the temple, which we gladly did. The temple was surprisingly warm inside, but I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders as we walked past various pillars that stood guard on either side of the room. Fae lights illuminated beautiful paintings and intricately carved statues that populated the room. At the very back of the room stood a golden altar and a tree sculpture, which closely resembled the one in the chapel back at Ashwood Manor—hundreds of tealight candles burned at its base like a smattering of stars. Temple keepers knelt on reed mats, their heads bent in prayer. On either side of the altar, four doorways opened into passages that lead deeper into the mountain.

"My name is Roshni," the head temple keeper said, turning to face us while her companions took their positions on either side of her. "Welcome to Thorn Temple," she said first in Iltar than in Faevent, her voice pouring like sugar water. "We have closed the mountain to visitors besides the prince and his guests."

She clapped her hands, and the temple keeper, kneeling on the mat, jumped up and turned toward us.

"You can hand your offerings to one of them. They will then bring it down to the entrance of The City of Shadows for the Shadowlings to collect for you while we watch from the observation deck."

It took three years of study before someone could interact with the Shadowlings directly. Technically, the royal family was also allowed to, but it was rare for them to hand over their offerings, opting to watch from a distance. From an earlier conversation, I know Prince Orin had never done it himself, but he would be required to, at least once, should he become king.

My mother looked at Prince Orin before she moved towards the temple keeper and Yash, whose arms were beginning to tremble under the weight of the trunk. I knew that Yash would give Orin hell later for making him carry something so heavy.

As soon as my mother was out of earshot. I turned towards the prince.

"Come look at a painting with me," I nodded towards a giant portrait across the room depicting The Earth Mother in her mortal form—a naked young woman with long, flowing chestnut hair adorned with a wreath of sprigs.

"Go by yourself."

"Shall I tell my mother you finally graciously accepted all her dinner invitations for the next week? You might be able to get out of some of those dinners, but not all of them without offending her. And then you'll have the option of making an enemy out of my father because she'll write telling him how rude Prince Orin Hassened of Incartha was to her. Or you'll have to risk eating food given to you by my mother!"

The prince visibly stiffened. He had told me once how he had been slipped a love potion by one of the many mothers who had plotted to wed him to her daughter. He had then spent the following three days "in love" with the plotter's daughter as the mother continued to slip him a love potion to maintain the effects. It was when my betrothed, Prince Adil, discovered something wrong and unveiled the diabolical plot. Prince Orin now avoided being fed by anybody who wasn't his personal cook or a close friend because of an intense fear of it happening again. Was it wrong for me to use that information against him—probably. But desperate times called for ruthless measures.

Prince Orin looked at Roshni. "Excuse us for a moment."

Roshni smiled and nodded.

"Why are you acting weird?" I asked once we were standing in front of the painting. "Don't you remember we are supposed to be acting like we've formed an attachment?"

Prince Adil smiled, his lips pulling back from his teeth, which I was beginning to learn meant he was anything but happy. "Because I am not sure you remember that this was all supposed to be an act. Or maybe you lied about not wanting to marry me."

My heart seized in my chest at his words. "What do you mean?" I asked, shoving my panic down into my throat. Had he guessed those confusing feelings I was beginning to have?

"I received a letter from my brother this morning. Apparently, he sent you fourteen letters—not a single one answered. He begged me to stop our charade—that we would find another way to ensure you would marry him. He believes I am seducing you away from him.

I blinked my eyes once, twice. "I haven't gotten anything from Prince Adil since we docked in Port Osim. I've written to him serval times. How hadn't he gotten any of them?"

Our eyes went to my mother at the exact same moment. She spoke to one of the temple keepers, her head bent close to his.

Prince Orin raised an eyebrow in a silent question as he turned back toward me.

"She would," I said, answering it.

Orin shook his head. "Damn, she's a worthy opponent. Is this also her doing?" he reached forward and gently lifted the scale from my throat.

"It is, but I plan to give it to Prince Adil."

"Why would you do that?" he asked, his jaw clenching. He let the pedant swing back against my throat. "I gave you that scale."

Why does he seem upset again?

"The whole point of the river serpent hunt was to gift Prince Adil a scale. Thought he might like it."

"He will love it," Orin mumbled, then turned to Roshni as she approached us.

"Your Majesty," she said, bowing. "We're ready when you are." Beyond her, I could see the tall woman, the male temple keeper, Yash, and my mother.

"Lead the way," Prince Orin said, and Roshni bowed.

"Wait," I said, grabbing Orin's hand, and he began to move to join the others. "We're friends, right? You didn't mean what you said earlier."

He looked down on the ground. "It's best that we stop speaking once your mother departs. That should not be a problem when you and Adil are finally united.

I let him pull his hand from mine as he turned away while I watched— anger and hurt stirring under my skin like an angry current.

Fine, screw him. At least my horse wouldn't suddenly decide it couldn't be my friend or become a mercenary that would leave to go back to Dalmar as soon as their job was finished.

"Did you two make up?" my mother asked as I rejoined her.

"Yes," I lied. Flashing my mom a smile. I guess Prince Orin wasn't the only one who smiled when they were angry.