I sat across from Celeste and Silas, their forced smiles like saccharine masks, trying to pretend they didn't feel the hostility radiating off Mikhail beside me. Why had I insisted on coming to dinner? Was it too late to ask to eat in my room? My gaze flitted to Celeste's blue dress, different from what she had been wearing earlier. Did she always travel with a spare gown, or had Mikhail offered her one of the late Duchess's? The thought twisted my insides into sailor's knots, though I couldn't fathom why.
"We want to thank you again for allowing us to stay at your castle until the Saintess recovers," Silas finally said, breaking the glacial silence.
Mikhail's silver eyes turned calculating as he regarded the High Priest. Instead of responding, he deliberately cut into his steak and took a measured bite. I shifted uncomfortably, the scrape of his knife against the china plate jarringly loud.
"I believe what I said, High Priest," Mikhail spoke at last, each word edged, "was that you were welcome to stay so the Saintess's condition did not worsen on the journey back. Given both your holy powers, I gauge she should be fine to travel tomorrow without risking further injury."
The temperature seemed to plummet several degrees. I avoided everyone's eyes but sensed Silas and Celeste wore expressions like scolded children. I turned my gaze away from them, but where to look? The heavy sapphire curtains, the dying embers in the hearth, anywhere but their faces.
"How long will you be staying in the Duchy?" Celeste turned to me with honeyed venom, her smile cold and glittering.
The blunt question startled me, but before I could think of a response, Mikhail interjected:
"Indefinitely."
Shock pulsed through me, and I noted matching surprise in Silas and Celeste's expressions, quickly masked.
Indefinitely? Why would Mikhail declare that?
"I see. You're quite the important guest." Celeste's gaze bored into me, pink eyes sharp as flint. " Is Lady Samara from Xolteca? She bears a striking similarity to the ones running around Aeloria, doesn't she, Your Holiness?"
Silas set down his fork and pierced me with an unnerving stare as if trying to see beneath my skin. "Indeed she does. I had the same thought when she ran into you in the library."
Ran into her?
Anger flared in my chest, straining against my controlled exterior.
"I did not know either of you would be in the library," I said evenly, trying to keep the edge from my voice in Mikhail's regal presence. "To be honest, I thought I'd seen a ghost. I wasn't expecting anyone, much less a pale figure in white."
Fury sparked in Celeste's eyes, bright and scorching. If looks could kill, I'd already be six feet under.
"How dare you compare the Saintess to a ghoul?" Silas's shocked response cut through the tension like a knife.
I said ghost, not ghoul.
Celeste raised a placating hand, her voice soft yet laced with condescension. "That's alright, Your Holiness. I'm sure Lady Samara is not learned in our customs and etiquette. I take no offense at her comment." Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Was it not the same with the first men who laid eyes on Elysarra and confused the goddess for a haunting apparition?"
Silas fell silent, but only for a moment. A smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, you are right, Saintess. And we know all too well what happened to those men who dared confuse a goddess with a ghoul."
Again, I had said ghost, not ghoul. Did they have selective hearing?
I still didn't have extensive knowledge of Elysarra or the story they referenced, but the way they both looked at me told me that whatever fate befell those first men was far from pleasant. It was a veiled threat wrapped in a pretty bow of religious allegory.
I glanced at Mikhail, noting the way he gripped his wine goblet, the vein on the back of his hand protruding. He had picked up on the threat, too.
"The first men were called blasphemers by the church and were burned at the stake for their believed insult to the goddess." Mikhail's icy and sharp voice cut through the room, sending a shiver down my spine. I noticed Silas and Celeste react similarly, a flicker of unease in their eyes.
"Are you insinuating that such a fate awaits my beloved?" Mikhail asked, his tone dangerously low.
The room fell into a deafening silence. My heart stuttered at Mikhail's use of the word "beloved." I risked a glance at Celeste and Silas, unsure if they were more shocked by the directness of Mikhail's question or his choice of words.
Mikhail seemed unaware of how he had referred to me, his anger growing with each passing second of the High Priest's silence. Silas appeared to be struggling, not just to answer but to comprehend what had transpired.
Celeste stepped in, her voice pleasant and innocent, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air. "That is not at all what we were insinuating or implying, Your Grace."
I gripped the armrests of my chair, my knuckles white. Celeste's placid tone felt like a thin bandage trying to hold together a gaping wound. I glanced at Mikhail and saw the muscle in his jaw twitch.
"I should hope not," he said, his voice deceptively soft. "It would reflect very poorly on the Holy Church to make veiled threats against one of my people."
There it was again, that insinuation of being his.
Silas cleared his throat awkwardly. "Please accept our apologies for any misunderstanding. We meant no disrespect to the lady or you, Your Grace."
Mikhail said nothing for a long moment, letting the tension stretch thin. Finally, he gave a curt nod and lifted his wine goblet.
"Then let us speak no more of it."
The rest of the dinner passed in stilted conversation and lengthy silences. Mikhail was cordial but distant, while Celeste's gaze bored into me whenever she thought I wasn't looking.
After dinner, I excused myself and made my way to the safety of my chambers. Kat helped me out of the heavy gown and into a lighter evening dress, not the usual nightgown I had worn since arriving at the castle.
"Was this also the late duchess's?"
"Yes, but don't worry; she never wore this," she added, with a sad look in her eyes. "The duchess left behind a lot of unworn items."
"The saintess," I wondered about the dress I had seen her wear at dinner, "was that also something of the late duchess?"
"No," Kat said casually, her tone light. "I heard the high priest and saintess always travel with a chest full of clothes. Apparently, their outfits get dirty so quickly when they visit the slums, and they don't want to appear unclean in front of the nobility."
For some reason, hearing that Celeste was not offered a dress lightened my heart as I stepped out onto the balcony, savoring the evening air against my skin.
The beauty of the scene in front of me couldn't erase the haunting words from dinner. A sense of foreboding clung to me like a second skin prickling at my nape. I shivered involuntarily and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling more vulnerable than ever.
I should have held my tongue with those two, but something about them not only irked me but made me feel uneasy and suspicious. I suppose it had to do with my own experiences with the Church back in my world.
Suddenly, a soft knock echoed through my chamber, and I heard Kat go to the door. I turned to see who it was, and my heart seized in my chest as I turned towards the sound and saw Mikhail standing in the doorway.
"I hope I am not disturbing you."
"You're not," I said, stepping back inside and wrapping a shawl around myself.
He moved towards me slowly as though afraid I'd run. "I wanted to see if you were all right."
"Why wouldn't I be?" I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. Every time I looked into his eyes, it felt like he was probing into my soul, searching for something.
Mikhail studied me for a long moment before sighing. "What would you like me to do about what was said at dinner?"
His frankness caught me off guard. I stared at him for several seconds before replying.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Mikhail."I could see the tension in Mikhail's eyes as he waited for my response, and I wondered what he wanted me to say. Sure, I was aware that they had threatened me, but what exactly was I supposed to ask him to do about it? The last thing I wanted was to cause more trouble for Mikhail."I don't want anything done about it. I don't want to cause any issues for you."I didn't dare ask for anything more. Deep down, I still clung to the hope that I'd find a way back home, and the thought of leaving behind a mess for others to deal with after I left felt wrong.Mikhail just stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, as if he was debating whether to accept my response. I quickly added, trying to ease the tension, "I think they got the message from your warning at dinner. Your words even gave me goosebumps—that's enough."He nodded slowly as if weighing my words. "If that's what you want, then I'll leave the matter alone," he finally said.Then he reached out, a simple gesture, his fingers grazing my arm lightly. It felt as if electricity jolted through me at the touch.I bit my lip, trying to hide the reaction, but his gaze told me I hadn't been successful. His eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and something else. Something I couldn't quite name but made my heart flutter uncontrollably in my chest.I tried to hold his gaze, even though the weight of the question I was about to ask made my heart pound. "Mikhail, if I might be so bold... why have they come to visit you?"Mikhail's expression shifted, and his gaze hardened as if a barrier had suddenly risen between us. He withdrew his hand from my arm and walked over to the balcony, his back to me, staring out into the moonlit gardens. His jaw clenched, and a muscle in his cheek twitched with barely contained tension beneath the silver strands of his hair."They came to pressure me into fulfilling my duty to the empire," he finally said, his voice low but firm, the words heavy with a weight I could hardly grasp. "To marry and produce an heir."His words' implications hit me like a wave crashing against the shore, leaving me breathless. My face flushed with heat as I stammered, "Can they really force you to do that?"He turned back to me, a wry smile tugging at his lips, but it was not warm. The amusement that had once danced in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cold, fierce resolve that sent a shiver down my spine."The Grand Dukes of Lumicrestia before me set a precedent of being wed by their twenty-eighth year," he explained, his tone edged with bitterness. "And I'm quickly approaching that age.""But you were wed before, so surely that precedent no longer matters?"I turned to see a look of complete shock on his face. "What do you mean I was wed before?"Now, it was my turn to feel confused. "Oh, I just assumed you were a widower." I fumbled with my words, trying to explain how I had drawn such a conclusion. "Kat, the maid you assigned to me, mentioned that I was using the previous Duchesses' clothing."A small smile tugged at his lips as he looked at me. "The previous Duchess was my mother. I have never been wed."A sense of relief washed over me at his explanation. Why was I so relieved?"They've threatened to involve the royal court," he continued, his voice growing sharper. "Even the king himself, if I don't declare an engagement soon."My heart raced as I tried to process his words. The very idea of being forced into a marriage, not out of love but out of duty, was something I could hardly fathom."And what happens if the king gets involved?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.Mikhail's gaze met mine, his gray eyes shadowed by a storm of emotions. "He can issue a royal decree. Force me into marriage with whoever they deem most suitable."The thought of such a fate—being bound to someone for life, someone he might not even know, let alone love—made my heart ache for him. I couldn't imagine the burden he carried.But there was something else bothering me, something I couldn't quite place. "Why is the Church so intent on this?" I asked, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "What do they hope to gain from forcing you to marry?"Mikhail looked away, back toward the gardens, and I could see the tension in his posture. My mind raced to piece together the puzzle. Unless they have someone in mind... The realization hit me suddenly, like a flash of lightning. My thoughts immediately jumped to Celeste, her poised demeanor, and the way she had seemed so intent on making an impression."Can members of the Church marry?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.Mikhail turned back to me, his expression unreadable. "Yes," he said.Before I could ask the question that now burned at the forefront of my mind, Mikhail added, "Even the Saintess. She is seen as the best bridal candidate for all eligible nobles."The revelation spun my world on its axis, and something twisted in my gut, a knot of emotion I couldn't quite identify. Was it jealousy? The thought of Celeste marrying Mikhail made my chest tighten, and I struggled to understand why. How could I be jealous when I had only just met him? Indeed, his fate was no concern of mine.But even as I tried to reason with myself, to push the feeling aside, I couldn't shake the unease that settled over me. Perhaps it was only natural to feel this way, to be upset at the thought of someone like Mikhail being bound to a woman who might not truly care for him. After all, he had shown me nothing but kindness, and the idea of him being trapped in a loveless marriage was something I couldn't bear.But deep down, I knew it was more than that."Can you defy a royal decree?" My question hung heavily in the tension-laden air between us.His jaw clenched as he pondered over my question. Then, without another word, he turned away from me, walking towards the door of my chamber."Goodnight, Samara," he murmured as he took my hand and kissed it. I watched then as he disappeared into the corridor. He hadn't answered my question, but I knew in that silence that he couldn't defy the King.