I nodded and smiled up at him weakly. “Thank you.”
“For showing you how to move yourself?”
“For that and the answers.”
He grinned down at me. “I was happy to. Please let me know what you decide. I will be praying for the Almighty to make it all clear for you.”
The kindness in his eyes warmed my heart. He cared and it meant a lot to know it. Before I could find the words to tell him, my stomach interrupted with a rumble.
Selwyn laughed. “Let me get you back to the house. I am sure that Adreet saved you something for that stomach.”
Chapter X
Zezilia
Outside my bedroom window, the world glowed with moonlight. The freshly fallen snow reflected the light so that even the darkest recesses of my room were lit with an eerie silvery radiance. Only the golden glow of the firelight kept the moonlight at bay. I sat perched on the window seat wrapped in a quilt to guard against the drafts that crept around the windowpanes.
My heart still lay in my chest like a lead lump. I had hoped that knowing what to do would give me some relief, but if only made the pressure on my chest heavier. It was as though my sin hung about my neck, pulling me down. Part of me whimpered for relief while another whispered that I didn’t want to give up my freedom, my ability to live my life as I chose.
What kind of freedom is this? I am weighed down with sin such that I cannot move. My spirit aches and my heart cries for respite.
The words of the Almighty’s Revelation kept returning to my thoughts. He promised peace and forgiveness. Both were things that the goddess never promised. She never promised anything. Although her worshipers did everything to please her, she never guaranteed what they wanted in return. The Almighty, on the other hand, promised and according to Errol, Selwyn, and Adreet, He always followed through.
Slipping from the windowsill, I went to my knees on the cold wooden floor. Gathering my quilt around me, I saluted the Almighty as I had seen Errol do before thanking Him for the meal. Then I spoke.
“Almighty God in the heavens, speaker to the prophets of the Revelation, and Savior of sinners like me. I come before You with nothing but the sin in my heart. Please, Almighty, I am a sinner and in dire need of deliverance. Selwyn and Errol told me of Your Son’s death to pay for the sin of people like me. I ask that you take my heart and life and cleanse it of this heavy burden. I know that I don’t deserve this, but please, Almighty, accept me anyway.” I paused desperately, trying to remember how Errol closed the prayers over the dinner table. “In Iazus’ name, so let it be.”
Slowly the weight around my heart lifted. I felt lighter and suddenly happy. “Oh, thank you,” I whispered to God. I wanted to tell everyone, but looking out the window at the night sky, I knew it was going to have to wait until morning. Rising stiffly to my feet, I crossed to my bed and climbed in between the sheets with my quilt still wrapped around me. Snuggling down among the bedding, I smiled. I now belonged to the Almighty and it felt wonderful.
Hadrian
THE WEEK AFTER THE High King’s death was one long ceremony after another, each function punctuated with side glances and whispered rumors. Three more of the kings, Adrasteia, Marcellus, and Euginius, cornered me privately about the Elitist concerns. Thankfully by then I could pacify their fears with promises that I was actively looking for a husband for Zezilia other than myself. King Euginius brought up the issue of her testing by an outside trainer. I promised him that I would send someone down to Errol immediately and that seemed to calm him. King Ilar, however, was beginning to worry me.
I frowned down at my desk and the letters strewn across the surface. Ilar had not sought me out and each time I had begun to get close enough to speak with him, he ducked away. At least four times in the past five days, I glimpsed the Mesitas speaking with him off to the side. I could only guess at the poison that the old man was pouring in his ears.
“We have word from Blandone, Master,” Renato announced as he burst into the sitting room. He set a sealed letter on my desk and continued to flip through the other missives. “A letter from Korneli. It looks like a response to your request that he test Zezilia.” I reached for the first letter as he tossed down the second.
“Have you completed that research on the Elitists that I requested?” I broke the seal on the document from Blandone as I glanced over at my assistant.
“Of course,” he replied with a regally affronted look.
“You just finished it yesterday, right?”
“This morning, if you must know,” he replied as he opened one of his own letters. “I will go fetch it after I read this.”
I nodded and turned my attention to Blandone’s news.
The Elitists, led by a man named Thrasius Parzifal, established a village on the coast about three years ago. Surrounded by an eight foot wall, the inhabitants were closely monitored even when they traveled to other villages to sell their goods. The women especially were guarded and not allowed to speak with anyone outside the community.
According to Blandone’s account, he had others attempt contact for him multiple times, but to no avail. Many of the neighboring villages lost sons and daughters to the group. The leaders were constantly on the lookout for untrained female talents. Once one was
