It’s at least an hour before anyone returns to check on me. It's so long I drift off to sleep, though not peacefully and I’m startled awake by the entrance of Lady Ivory. Her massive gold-dipped wings barely fit the cramped room. I take joy in her slight discomfort, it’s her fault for having them built so small. Then again, she likely doesn’t visit the dungeons and made an exception for whatever reason.

“What have you to say for yourself, Zaccaheus?”

“I’m an Invert.” Looking her dead in the eye, this time I don’t try to spit on her, and hating myself for adoring this monster. “I’m an Invert and I'm not ashamed of it anymore.”

“You should be.” The Ivory Maiden leaned into my ear. “It didn’t have to be like this. You could have hidden it. If you’d just kept it to yourself and married a girl, I wouldn’t have sent that Demon after you.”

“You sent Avarice after me?”

“Who- Oh, no, I sent his sister Lezabel. Did she not catch you?”

I shake my head, relife washing away my momentary horror.

“Ah… That probably explains why you’re even still alive and why she stopped speaking to me.”

“I knew you were cruel but I didn’t think you’d stoop so low as to sell one of your own courtiers to the priestess.”

“I wouldn’t have welcomed you into my court if I’d known you were Inverted. And after I branded you, you still continued on with Evangelos. You forced my hand.”

“I didn’t know he would break my heart.”

“Aw,” She coos in mock sympathy. “Tell you what, tell me how much worse Ecrye is than Cloud Spire and I’ll spare you the dreaded cross. I may even pardon you completely if you cry hard enough.”

“I’m not going to lie to appease your ego, such a thing is only true if you aren’t ruling Cloud Spi-” She slaps me so hard I see stars.

“Consider the offer relinquished.” Lady Ivory brushes a lock of hair from her eyes. “I’d tell you it was an honor knowing you but we both know that isn’t true.”

I twist and pull at my bindings until the leather is bites too deep for me to bear.

“Being Cross-bound ain’t so comfortable is it?”

I whip my head around to face Evangelos, my chin raised defiantly. “How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes betray you. They glow in the dark, did you not know?”

I shake my head, horror twisting my stomach.

“Oh well, it hardly matters anymore. They are very pretty though,” Evangelos caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “What a waste.”

I flinch away, grimacing. “Stop it.”

“Why? I thought we were close.”

“You betrayed me!”

“I didn’t betray you, The Ivory Maiden always knew, you betrayed yourself. I must say, you have quite the talent for it.”

“That’s not what I mean-”

“What exactly did you expect from me? I’m an actor, you know this very well.”

“But I loved you.”

“And what a horrible decision that was for you. What idiot would want to fraternize with an Invert? Disgusting. I can hardly wait to watch Lady Ivory nail you to a-” Before he can say anything else, I’ve spat a generous amount of spit in his disgustingly perfect face.

Evangelos stares at me for a moment, his eye twitching. He’s pissed but ever so carefully wipes his face with his clout sleeve. “You know I caught Charmeine kissing her lady friend a few days ago. I think her name is Melek, I think?”

My eyes widen. “Don’t-”

“Those dirty Demons have really made you so deviant. Perhaps I would have let Charmenine and her friend be if you’d shown me a little more respect.”

“Stars, Evangelos, they’re children! You can’t do that to them!” He’s already halfway to the door. “No, please, I take it back! I’m sorry- please don’t hurt them!”

The door slammed, lock clicking.

They come for me at dawn, releasing the bonds and letting me crack my cheek against the stone floor. Too exhausted to stand on my own, they have to drag my dead weight through the halls themselves. Phantoms of past memories flitter between the shadows, never staying long enough for me to register that they’re there. Then we’re at a pair of faded doors, compared to the rest of the temple, with its ornate latticed windows and skylights, decorative paintings, gilt trimmings, these are considerably unnatural to their surroundings.

It’s when the door closes behind me do I finally dare to raise my head, taking in the rest of the glossy tile floor, ash stuffed between the cracks like some morbid grout substitute, and the latticed skylight, cradled a league above by simply carved pillars. The worst part, however, is not the various giant crosses fitted into the holes carved out in the floor, nor the dead and dying bodies (mostly dead) still nailed to the frames, crowned in iron thorns.

It’s the lone cross laid out like a fallen tree in the height of spring, arms open to welcome me. Waiting next to it is a hooded guardian with cords of muscle for arms, a mallet slung over a shoulder and a pile of metal rods at his feet.

The arrow of icy dread punctures my throat, tearing through my veins and pausing time just long enough for it to sink bone-deep.

I succumb to the rising hysteria, kicking and screaming as they pull me ever closer to my fate.