❛WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE THE TEN MOST POWERFUL GODS ALIVE PLAY A GAME OF MUSICAL CHAIRS WITH ONE SEAT?❜
They fight - to the death.
They fight over three crowns and a throne with steel spiked maces. They despair a little more everyday keeping thei...
"I am coming with you. And if you don't let me, I'll chain you to the door and bore you to death with tales of misery. And you can't hurt a pregnant woman just to escape, can you?" Irina asked with a gleam in her eyes.
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HEXHAM PALACE, SKELDERGATE, ALLINGTON.
EDWINA
"ALL RIGHT. NOW LET'S GO over this once again!" Irina gleefully rubbed her hands together in excitement, bouncing on her feet with surprising agility. It had taken her hours to convince me to bring her with me, the stubborn lady refused to take no for an answer.
Glumly, I looked down at our transformed appearances. To anyone else, we looked like common attendants, with our neat, ordinary clothes and pinned up hair, faces as different as day and night from our original appearance. Muddy brown eyes, lanky black hair - a far cry from our vividly colored original appearances. Irina giggled once again, and I glared at her, letting her know how angry I was. She had literally forced herself to come, despite all my protests. She was pregnant! What if something happened to her? What if the baby came while we were in here? We couldn't even use up our powers here!
"So... I'm called Celia. And you are Faylinn. We're Lady Sarette's new handmaidens. And to get our story straight-" she bustled about her pockets, "-here are our letters of recommendation."
Two letters, stamped with the Rotavelle unicorn with the signatures forged by her clever hand.
She seemed to be more enthusiastic about this death trap than I was.
I gave her a sullen smile, and we both proceeded to the gates, my nerves wracked with worry and concern. Me getting caught I could handle, but Irina getting hurt or caught I could not bear. I just hoped everything went smoothly.
• • • • •
"My Lady Rotavelle," the huge guard declared with a proud bow, dragging us forward. "Here are your new handmaidens."
Sarette Rotavelle turned around.
Slender and willowy, with waves of brown hair and wickedly, poisonous green eyes, she had a heart shaped face which somehow countered the feeling of danger emanating from her. Sarette was the goddess of witchcraft, and Lord Emerick's younger daughter, the elder one being Olinda - the goddess of festivities and revelry. Sarette and her brother both made a deadly couple, being the deities of spells and witchcraft.
They would have been affected the most with the wards put up in Skeldergate.
Witches were often shriveled up prudes with sagging skin and cats around them. Sarette Rotavelle was nothing like that, but she was the deadliest witch I'd ever known.
