Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“You’ve never been allowed to wear anything like this,” she finished for me. “I understand. It’s okay to be nervous.” She stepped back and dug around in the little bag she’d brought with her. “But you look beautiful, Poppy.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, glancing at my reflection. I did feel beautiful in this gown. Anyone would.
Tawny returned to my side, a pot in one hand, and a slim brush in the other. “Keep your lips parted and hold still.”
I did as she ordered and held completely still as she painted my lips the same shade as my dress. When she was finished, she stepped aside. My lips were…bright.
I’d never worn paint on my lips or eyes before. Obviously, it wasn’t allowed for me. Why? My skin was supposed to be as pure as my heart or something. I had no idea. Once, the Duchess had explained it to me, but I might’ve zoned out halfway through that conversation.
“Perfect,” Tawny murmured, placing the pot and brush back into her bag. “You ready?”
No.
Not at all.
But I needed to be. The Rite would begin at dusk, and the sun was already setting.
Pulse pounding, I nodded. Tawny smiled at me, and I think I smiled back. Or at least I hoped I did as I followed her out into the main chamber. I felt a little dizzy as she reached for the door, opening it. Hawke would be out there with Vikter, and I wanted to turn back and run—to where, I had no idea. Maybe to the bed, where I could wrap the blanket around—
Vikter stood alone.
I looked up and down the hall, expecting to see Hawke, but the corridor was otherwise empty.
“You both look lovely,” Vikter said. It was…weird seeing him in anything but black and without the white mantle of a Royal Guard. He was dressed for the Rite in a deep crimson, sleeveless tunic and breeches that matched.
“Thank you,” Tawny said, curling her arm around mine as I murmured the same thing.
The corners of his lips turned up as he focused on me. “You sure you’re ready, Poppy?”
“She is,” Tawny answered, patting my arm.
“I am,” I said, realizing that Vikter wouldn’t move forward if I didn’t say anything.
He nodded, and then the three of us started down the hall. Was Hawke not working tonight? I figured both of them would be on duty with me being at the Rite, but what if I’d assumed wrong? But he’d said he was…curious to see me. Didn’t that mean that even if he wasn’t on duty, he’d be here?
My heart thumped as we walked down the stairs to the second floor. It shouldn’t matter if he was here or what he’d said. I wasn’t dressed for him.
But where was he?
I told myself not to ask. I reminded myself over and over, but I blurted it out anyway. “Where’s Hawke?”
“He had to meet with the Commander, I believe. He will meet us at the Rite.”
Relief swept through me, and on its heels came the almost sweet thrill of anticipation. I exhaled roughly. If my question or reaction appeared odd to Vikter, he didn’t show it. Tawny, on the other hand, squeezed my arm. I glanced at her.
She grinned, and if the mask hadn’t covered her eyebrows, I knew one of them would be raised.
We made our way to the foyer, and there were many people—commoners and Ladies and Lords, both fully Ascended and those in Wait, and staff, all forming a sea of crimson. Cologne and perfumes mixed with the sounds of laughter and conversation.
It was…a lot to take in as we passed one of the statues. The first thing I did was lock down my gift, fortifying my walls. But my heart was still pounding as we entered the hall of banners. The archway of the Great Hall loomed ahead, brightly lit.
Air seemed to leak in and out of my lungs as we then entered the Great Hall.
Gods…
There were so many people. Hundreds stood before the raised dais, between the pillars, and in the windowed alcoves. Normally, I would be on the dais, removed from the throng, but not tonight. It still shocked me that the Duke and Duchess hadn’t demanded that I join them, but there simply hadn’t been any space. Not when there were at least half a dozen Temple clergy on the dais, including Priestess Analia, and just as many Royal Guards.
I looked around, trying to control my breathing. The white and gold banners usually hanging between the windows and behind the dais had been replaced by the deep crimson banners of the Rite, embossed with the Royal Crest. Deep red blossoms flowed from urns, variations of roses and other similarly hued flowers. Up by the dais there was a break in the color, a splash of white amongst the red. For once, it wasn’t me who stood out. Dressed in white tunics and gowns, the second sons and daughters stood with their families. Behind them, the parents of the third sons and daughters crowded, their children in their arms. All of them, even the parents, bore wreaths of red roses and twine upon their heads.