Chapter 11
Fun Camp had, at long last, come to its close. The slaves had been returned to their masters, the children to the orphanage, and we to our quiet temple halls. I never did find the man I sought.
I stood by the window where the morning sun came in softly, and I turned the golden ring between my fingers. I squinted, bringing it closer to my eyes, hoping to see the initials said to be engraved within. It was not that I distrusted the young man who had told me of it. I only wished to be certain. If the ring were but a trinket, I need not let my heart worry so.
I turned it this way and that, tilting it so that the sunlight might kiss its inner band. But no matter how I looked, there was nothing.
Perhaps he had been mistaken.
Just as I began to lower it, a faint shimmer caught my eye. My gaze snapped back to it.
There, ever so faintly, a light began to glow. The longer I looked, the brighter it became, until at last, the letters revealed themselves before me.
PY.
I very nearly dropped the ring. This was no ordinary piece of metal. It had been enchanted, most likely by some ancient magical stone.
MV… King Malvior Valebrinth.
PY… I had not the slightest idea. Her name was never the same from tale to tale. But always it began with a P. And her surname with a Y.
I began to pace anxiously about my chamber.
What was I to do with this ring? I could not simply leave it hidden somewhere. What if I encountered that young man once more? And yet, to carry it upon my person felt equally perilous. There are tales in which people were slain over rings thought to be true. And yet, in the end, the rings were always false, and the bloodshed served no purpose at all.
"Why are you so nervous at this hour?" came Sister Alethea's drowsy voice.
I froze where I stood.
She threw off her blanket and rose, her gaze landing on the ring in my fingers. "Since when do you wear jewelry?"
Jewelry.
Yes. That is all this was. A harmless trinket. Nothing more.
"I… I found it at the market," I stammered, "and thought it rather pretty, so I purchased it."
The lie made my stomach churn.
She sighed. "I must remind you, once again, that you are a dreadful liar. Let me see it."
She extended her hand, but in a flurry of panic, I slipped the ring on my right big toe.
"Look at it," I said hastily, pointing with a rather unsteady finger. "Is it not pretty?"
She lit up with a grin. "The Princess gave it to you, did she not? And you are simply too shy to admit it. Fret not. I am not the least bit jealous of your friendship with her. I know, deep in your heart, you love me most."
"Heh… heh," I tried to laugh, though it came out far too forced.
"Why your toe, though? It seems rather too large for it. And it does not resemble a toe ring at all."
Because I am hiding it.
"But then again," she added. "Too large for a toe also meant too large for a finger."
The door flew open with such force that both Sister Alethea and I let out startled cries.
"The Princess is here to see you, Sister Naevia. She awaits you in the garden," Sister Juliara announced before vanishing as swiftly as she had come, the door slamming once more behind her.
Sister Alethea hurled a pillow at the door with a groan. "Why must she always enter as though the building were on fire!"
I wasted no time. I dressed at once and hurried out, for Her Highness had arrived at the most opportune moment. The conversation about the ring had gone on long enough, and I feared if it continued even a moment more, I might collapse from sheer nervous strain.
For now, the ring shall remain hidden upon my toe.
--
"Your Highness… it is beautiful…"
I could not stop looking at the bracelet Her Highness had tied upon my wrist. It was fashioned from the smallest white flowers, each bloom so perfectly woven together, one could scarcely see where one ended and the next began.
"You are quite fond of the color white, are you not?" she asked, leaning in.
I immediately inched away, my heart fluttering with panic. We were seated on a bench within the temple garden, open to all who passed. What if someone saw? Worse… what if she caught my scent? I had not bathed, having left in such haste.
She leaned closer still, her smile touched with mischief. "You adore the color so dearly, you have kept some on your face."
"M-my face?"
"You were drooling in your sleep."
I raised my hands to my mouth and wiped in frantic motions, embarrassed beyond words.
"Bring me my beloved's favorite color," she called over her shoulder with cheer.
The way she casually called me her beloved made my cheeks flush with warmth.
From the path emerged one of her guards bearing a scroll rolled in white parchment. It caught the sunlight so exquisitely that I stared in quiet awe, my hands stilling. I could tell this was not one of Her Highness's indecent scrolls. No, this one radiated holiness. I could feel it deep within me. Ombrithar's blessed words lay hidden inside. I was certain of it.
"For you," Her Majesty said as she handed it to me. "Do you like it?"
"I love it, Your Highness," I whispered, taking it with both hands as though it were glass. "I cannot thank you enough."
I began to unroll it, careful not to crease its edges. My eyes fell upon the title:
The Angel Who Spread Her Cunt for Cock Before a Crowd
My hands trembled.
Oh dearest Ombrithar, I was gravely mistaken.
Her Highness burst into laughter, but I bit my lower lip, disheartened that something so crude had been written upon a scroll so fair and dreamlike in appearance.
Her laughter softened into gentle chuckles. "I was only teasing you, my sweet."
She took the scroll back and picked carefully at one corner. To my astonishment, a thin top layer began to lift. With utmost precision, she peeled it away, revealing another page beneath. She handed it back to me, smiling with pride.
My gaze fell upon the new title:
The Eight Sacred Vows of Our Beloved Ombrithar
My heart trembled at once.
"Your Highness…" I whispered, my voice quivering as I lifted my eyes to her. "This text has long been believed lost to time. H-how did you come to possess such a sacred relic?"
"It was never lost," she replied. "It has been kept safe within the royal vault for generations. It belongs to you now."
My vision blurred with tears. What had I done to be entrusted with this? This divine gift contained the sacred vows left behind by our blessed Mother when She ascended into godhood. No servant of Hers had ever seen them, only spoken of them in hope and reverence. We had spent years wondering what Her final promises might have been.
I placed the scroll beside me with the greatest care, then threw my arms around Her Highness's neck, overcome with gratitude. Her arms wrapped around my waist and I rested my head upon her shoulder.
"Remember, it is yours," she whispered. "You need not offer it to the temple."
I lifted my head from her shoulder and pressed a shy kiss upon her lips.
"T-that is my thanks to you…" I murmured, unable to meet her gaze. "I should like to give the scroll to the temple. I wish for Her servants to know Her sacred vows as well."
"Then do as you please," she said, returning my kiss. "I have yet to take breakfast. Would you care to join me, Naevia?"
I gave a small nod, my cheeks warm with bashfulness.
"But before that," she said, eyes glinting with mischief, "tell me truly. Did I earn any favor with that scroll?"
"Favor?" I echoed.
"Your feelings toward me, you little goose."
"Y-yes," I stammered, unable to stop the blush that bloomed across my face.
--
"Her eighth vow," Father Sorin's voice echoed through the vast nave. Ever since I entrusted the sacred scroll to him, our morning prayers had begun with the vows of our beloved Mother Ombrithar. I could listen to him recite them a thousand times and never grow weary of a single word.
I turned slightly toward Her Highness, seated beside me at the farthest pew. Since that blessed day, she had come with me each morning.
But today, her countenance seemed pale. Her golden eyes looked utterly without light.
"Your Highness," I whispered, "are you unwell?"
"Forgive me, Naevia," she whispered. "I do not believe I can bear this any longer. Hearing the same words each day is beginning to make me ill. If Father Sorin would simply read them, I might endure it. But must he attach some winding tale to every vow he speaks?"
My eyes widened, stricken with horror.
Sister Alethea sat on the other side of me. She leaned ever so slightly across and whispered, "Your Highness, you bear the expression of one who regrets every decision she has made, beginning with entrusting Naevia that scroll and ending with the agreement to attend these morning devotions."
"I shall not be attending this again," she said simply as she rose. She turned and left. There was a faint unsteadiness in her steps.
The horror I had felt only moments before vanished. For ordinarily, before taking her leave, she would draw me into some secluded corner and kiss me in parting. But this time, she simply walked away. The sensation was unfamiliar and most uncomfortable.
I hurried after her. Thankfully, she had not yet departed and stood just beside her waiting carriage, poised to step within.
"Y-your Highness…" I called hesitantly.
"Yes?" she replied, turning her gaze toward me.
"Y-you forgot something…"
She tilted her head. "I do not believe I have."
I bit my lower lip and, gathering what courage I had, raised a finger to point quickly at my lips… then dropped my hand just as fast, embarrassed by the gesture.
A moment passed.
"Ohhhh…" she drew out the sound in amusement as she stepped fully into the carriage.
I cast my eyes downward and turned away, accepting, however reluctantly, that I would not receive a kiss today.
"Naevia," came her voice.
I turned at once, hope stirring.
"Come inside."
I descended the steps in haste and slipped into her carriage without a moment's hesitation. The guard closed the door behind me, and before I could so much as gather my breath, she pulled me into her embrace. Her lips met mine as the carriage began to move.
She reached for my habit and began to gather the fabric upward. Every sacred teaching within me cried out in alarm. We had not known each other long. This was forbidden. This was madness.
And yet… my hands moved on their own to assist her, lifting the hem of my habit higher, exposing myself inch by inch.