They rode for days on end, stopping only at rest houses to eat, sleep, and change horses. If the High Priestess had a plan, he must trust her. The letters and documents she'd sent through Aine had been his lifeline, his link to the land of his birth. Without them, he feared all he'd know of Lusine would be colored through imperial lenses. It was the High Priestess who helped him appreciate their traditions, customs, and the way of his ancestors. He did feel some guilt for what he did with Giselle, for what could be seen as a betrayal of Lusine. Even more than that was his betrayal of Giselle. Isla once warned him that Giselle was dangerously obsessed but he was no less obsessed with her. She was spoiled and petty, as expected of a princess, but also fiercely intelligent, cunning, and clever. Whatever the priestesses were planning, she'd find out at some point.
The roads seemed eerie, empty almost. Etienne had never seen this part of Lusine. He'd rarely been to his homeland of course, but the forests surrounding the mountain ranges of Lusine were more unfamiliar to him than Yulran. Still, he relished every sight they passed by, no matter how mundane. It was as if Etienne resolved to commit to memory every creek, stream, and hill they saw. This was his land, he thought, excitement rising in his chest. It was beautiful, no matter how Giselle complained it was a barbaric land that didn't recognize their rule.
"I've long longed to see these sights," said he, his eyes roaming the landscape hungrily. "I've read everything I could get my hands on about Lusine, but seeing the land with my own eyes is incomparable."
"Beautiful isn't it?" Aine smiled, coming up beside him. "Lusine is a beautiful land, my lord."
"Yes, it is. If I have the choice, I'd never want to leave."
Silently, he wondered if he'd have to live in Karom after the wedding. He'd much rather stay in Lusine as its duke, but he might have to live in the capital after marrying Giselle. Had he the choice, he wouldn't want to stay in that pit of vipers, that place his mother loathed. He wanted to stay here, in this cold and beautiful land.
"We'll reach the temple soon," said one of the priestesses. "We've made record time, reaching it in only five days."
"That's good to hear." Etienne said distractedly, feeling stuffy in his stiff shirt. Away from Giselle, he could turn his back on her. Had she been there with him, he doubted he'd have the courage to continue with the priestesses' plan. Away from her, he'd had to think of his mother's legacy, of decisions he must make for his people's sake.
He had to prove that his mother did not make a mistake naming him heir.
The Temple of the Dove was a small temple, he remembered from his lessons with Aine. It was hidden, nestled in between mountains, sheltered by the dense forests. It was so secluded, it was one of the few temples past emperors weren't able to torch in their invasion of Lusine. A peacetime temple, it was kept under heavy lock during wartime, none allowed to enter until the war is over. It wasn't very difficult to find, not with the contingent of priestesses beside him. He tried to commit its location to memory.
"Why are we going to the temple anyway? We are not at war." The moment those words left his mouth, Etienne wanted to kick himself.
Aine looked at him as if he'd asked a stupid question. "To Lusine, the war never ended, my lord."
"Of course, my mistake."
Etienne felt that thinking any deeper about the war would only lead to headache. He couldn't help but think about it anyway. Right now, his loyalty belonged to Lusine, that kingdom his mother had given him. Not Giselle. He tried to convince himself that he could not be considered a traitor to an empire he didn't owe his loyalty to. It was harder to convince himself when he thought of his wife-to-be.
Before long, they stopped in front of a door carved on the base of the mountain. A single dove was engraved on its center, the door itself framed by two torches. A priestess whose face is covered by a white veil guarded the entrance and silently opened it as they dismounted.
A sense of trepidation came over Etienne. He had always wondered how it would feel to enter one of the goddess' temples, asked himself if he'd be able to feel her presence even as she still slept. But, she was here. He could feel her gentle caress in the mountain breeze. He could feel her light shining down on the temple from the heavens. She was alive and she made his blood sing. Blood calling to blood, his ancestress made her presence felt. Steeling himself, he walked inside.
The interior of the temple was small, illuminated only by the light of two dozen candles that lined the walls. Like the door, the rest of the temple was carved directly into the mountain. At the end of a long aisle lined with red robed priestesses, stood the High Priestess before an altar, covered from head to toe in white, her face shrouded in a golden veil. Even veiled, he could see that she was younger than he'd thought, closer to him in age than his grandmother as he'd expected. Did the position change without him knowing? As he got closer, he saw that the altar was almost entirely covered in dried blood.
"Do you know whose blood this is?" She asked, her sonorous voice ringing in the temple's walls. "It was quite difficult stealing away this altar without the emperor knowing you know."
Etienne's blood ran cold. Faintly, he saw the outline of a body in the dried blood. "My mother's. It was my mother's wasn't it?"
The High Priestess nodded. "Your mother's sacrifice awakened the goddess. She's here, among us even though we cannot see her. Do you feel her presence?"
"Yes." Etienne said, remembering the feeling outside the temple. "No one told me she was awake."
"It had to be kept secret for awhile, until you accept your duties and yourself," the priestess explained. "Your sister knew, as a priestess of the Sea God."
"Accept my duties and myself?" Etienne let out a harsh laugh. "How can you say I have?"
"You know it didn't you? Your lot was cast the day you were born, your fate set in stone the moment you were dedicated to the goddess."
"Why, why did it have to be me? Isla was also the goddess' descendant, a female descendant."
"Perhaps a mother knew best her children's lot in life. This is your destiny, will you run away?"
"No, I cannot. I've been kept away for so long running isn't an option. I won't run."
"Very well, then will you accept everything the goddess asks of you?"
"I will."
"After this, you cannot ignore your destiny any longer."
"I understand. I am prepared to do what is expected of me."
The High Priestess nodded to another priestess stationed to the side of the altar. The woman then went inside a room to the side and re-emerged with an object atop a cushion, covered by a white cloth embroidered with a dove. The priestess presented it to her superior with a lowered head. The High Priestess then took off the cover and let Etienne gaze at it.
The sight of the object nearly made his heart stop. Etienne knew what it was, it was legendary, thought lost after his mother's death. Her crown, the crown of their ancestors. An obsidian band studded with small diamonds meant to be worn like a thick circlet. It was what his mother was crowned with, what she wore as she died. Wryly, he thought that the priestesses' surprises were never-ending.
"Etienne son of Lusine, will you accept this crown?"
For a moment, his eyes searched for Aine and found her near the temple entrance. Her eyes were on him, cold as steel, but she had a faint smile on her face. Aine nodded, as if telling him to accept.
Etienne swallowed. "If, if I accept this crown, I will be declaring myself as king."
"Yes," the priestess said, her gaze resolute. "You will be carrying on the legacy of your ancestors. Etienne, you are not the duke of Lusine. There is no duchy called Lusine, only a kingdom called Lusine created by the goddess named Lusine."
"When my great-grandmother was defeated, did grandfather crown himself king?"
"He did, my lord."
Etienne knelt in front of the altar, his eyes set on the dried blood. So this was what she died for, he thought. A final sacrifice for the awakening of their goddess.
"Should you accept this crown, you will have to swear an oath to the goddess."
"I'll swear it," Etienne said. "I won't run away." He closed his eyes, remembering the words he'd once seen hidden away in an obscure document.
"To the goddess, I consecrate my blood. To my duty, I dedicate my body, my spirit. To my people, I give my heart. I bind myself to these three oaths in my name as a son of the goddess. I swear to uphold the honor of my people, the people of the goddess."
"Do you swear to complete the goddess' vengeance?"
Etienne's throat went dry. Unconsciously, he licked his lips. Giselle. He thought of her wide brown eyes, her red hair, and that sometimes innocent smile. Maybe he loved her after all, or at least, he was starting to. Some part of him found it funny he'd realize that as he turned traitor. Was he really a traitor? Can he really be called a traitor when in the first place, he never owed Giselle his loyalty. He was born a prince of a kingdom on the verge of defeat, swallowed again by the empire just as she came into the world.
No, Etienne thought in his heart. He wasn't a traitor because he didn't owe Karom his loyalty. He would have been a traitor if he didn't give Lusine his loyalty. From his birth to his death, he belonged to Lusine.
"Yes, I swear."
Silently, the priestess placed the crown on Etienne's head. In it, he felt the weight of generations, the desires of his predecessors, a thirst for vengeance. In his heart, he heard the call of his goddess to free her siblings. He could feel the binds in his heart, made by the oaths he swore. He stood. So this was how his coronation was done, in silence, without pomp and ceremony. Somehow, this intimate ceremony felt sacred. Holy.
"Long live the king," said the High Priestess.
"Long live the king!" The rest of the priestesses echoed.
The crown weighed heavy on his head. It was beautiful, made hundreds of years ago for the descendants of the goddess. How many generations of his ancestors have worn this crown? Now, it's come to him. Would his descendants get the chance to wear this crown? A part of him hoped they would. The line of the goddess would continue, even if it's with the daughter of their enemy.
The king. He was King of Lusine now, a title that seemed to him more sacred and meaningful than any title he'd gain when he marries Giselle.
"What should we do about Giselle and the emperor?" In three weeks, Giselle would be his wife. Not even a crown would change that. He hoped he wouldn't have to fight her. He wasn't afraid he would lose. On the contrary, he knew that with the wakened goddess on his side, he would have a better chance than his mother. However, he honestly did not want to fight her.
"For now, nothing." From behind her veil, he could feel the High Priestess' smile. "You may keep this a secret, marry her as planned. Then, when you have a girl child, dedicate her to the goddess. This the role you must play for now."
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