The meeting with the city council was as dull as I expected.  It was the usual formula.  Express outrage, demand answers, then argue over solutions.  I took mental note of the good ideas, smiled politely at the bad ones, and was only once taken off-guard by an individual who declared that Manere needed a new god.  The current one wasn’t trustworthy, obviously, so she should just go… retire in whatever manner that meant for the gods - and let the city instate someone else.

Ridiculous.  I stared at him with a blank expression on my face until the silence grew so uncomfortable that someone changed the subject.

After that, I was to meet with Count Hidere.  Unsurprisingly, the council meeting had run long and it was now lunchtime.  Count Hidere obviously anticipated that, for he met me outside the city hall and said that he’d taken the liberty of making lunch reservations.

Sir Carid glowered at him over my shoulder.  The count was unfazed, however, and merely gave the queen’s champion a polite smile and said that he could accompany the Beloved as her guard, obviously.  It was an honor to be in such distinguished company, after all.

His words were flattering, but his tone implied that Sir Carid was nothing but a nuisance.  And Carid had been in the queen’s court long enough to know this.  He’d also been in the court long enough that he knew to not react to the subtle insult.  I was surprised.  I hadn’t many interactions with Sir Carid but he always struck me as someone that would be painfully, disastrously, direct.  Perhaps he could be subtle after all, but simply chose not to.

Perhaps I’d be like that someday.  This role I’d been thrust in was slowly grinding down my civility.

The mask held while I conversed with Count Hidere, however.  It had to.  I smiled and dropped my gaze and cast furtive glances at Carid staring menacingly from a respectful distance away.  It was all going as planned until, abruptly, Count Hidere turned the conversation to my ascension.

It fit with what I wanted to accomplish.  That wasn’t the issue.  It was just most people danced around the topic, if they dared to bring it up at all.  It was more likely that they’d whisper about it just out of earshot at the parties, casting furtive glances at me, wondering what the scar looked like underneath the layers of my dress.  But to ask me directly?  Why that would be rude.

Or worse.  They might get an honest answer.  I might tell them how scared I was, how much it hurt, and how little choice I’d been given in it all.  How trapped I felt, being led by the hand towards the altar by the priests with all those expectations from my family and the crown and the priesthood at my back, cutting off my escape.

Fine.  If he was going to inquire so directly, then he’d get the answer no one actually wanted to hear.

“It’s a similar ritual to when they make a new god,” I said calmly.  “Only a select audience is permitted to witness it, out of respect, they say, but I think it’s because they don’t want the populace to know what it’s really like.  I wasn’t a prisoner, so they didn’t disrespect me by tying me to the altar, but there were four priests to hold me down.  Because it’s not possible to keep your composure, not once the knife goes in.”

“It must be difficult to endure that memory,” he said and his eyes were bright with interest but not a trace of sympathy.

“It is.”

I glanced at Sir Carid for no particular reason.  My gaze just happened to travel to where he was standing guard, but the look on his face caught the whole of my attention.  For a moment I wasn’t even listening to Count Hidere talk but instead I stared in shock at the expression on Sir Carid’s face, an emotion I hadn’t seen on their faces before but it was something they should all be feeling.

Guilt.

“I should go,” I said abruptly, standing.

“Of course, you have a busy schedule,” he said.

We made our farewells as etiquette demanded.  Count Hidere watched me closely the entire time and I didn’t have to act very hard.  I was rattled.  Why was he so interested in the ritual that made me?  Why had I answered him at all?  I flinched when he took my hand to kiss it.  It was only honed habit that allowed me to catch the thin smile my reaction elicited from him.  And that look in his eyes.  I didn’t recognize what it was but I’d been catching glimpses of it all throughout our meal.

He wasn’t done with me, nor I with him.  He promised to call on me again tomorrow, to find out how my meeting with Manere had gone, and I readily agreed.

Then Sir Carid escorted me to the carriage waiting outside.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Carid grumbled once we were out in the street.  “You know how you said I should act like you could be assassinated at any moment?”

“Yes?”

“It’s not an act anymore.”

I slowed, starting to glance up and down the street, but Carid put his hand on my elbow and firmly shoved me the rest of the way in the carriage.  Then he climbed in as well and it took off down the street, rattling on the cobblestones.

“You’re not in danger at this exact moment,” he said in annoyance.  “It’s just… there’s a certain look people get when they’re considering killing someone.  It’s not an easy thing to take a life, no matter how seasoned someone thinks they are.  Count Hidere had that look.”

“He’s not interested in controlling Manere,” I said thoughtfully.  “If he’s involved, his goals are not something that the god can be manipulated into.  He’s got something to hide and the safest way to ensure he’s not found out is if I’m in a grave.”

Carid’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword and he stared moodily out the carriage window.

“Well, unfortunately for him,” I said with a chuckle, “I don’t scare so easily anymore.”

They put a knife in my chest and bound me to the gods by a single, crucial strand.  I could stare into eyes that would kill anyone else.  After that, did I really have much to fear from this mere mortal that thought he could defy the gods?