Page 100 of Consort's Glory
“For my consort?” His smile fell. In an instant, he was not Margot’s Theodore, but the deadly predator who claimed her as its own; he was the elf who would tear his own kingdom apart before he let her go. Margot felt his conviction, his unwavering loyalty, like the twang of a bowstring snapping in her soul. Absolutely lethal, absolutely uncompromising, and all mine. “Anything.”
Amusement quirked the corners of Petra’s full mouth. “How romantic.” She canted her head to one side, her waist-length hair falling over one shoulder. “It’s a good thing for you, then, that I only have a small thing to ask of you in return for this favor.”
Margot tensed, her hackles raising, but Theodore didn’t blink. “Ask.”
“I want this position,” the Priestess announced, tilting her chin up. “I want to be High Priestess of the Protectorate.”
That, at last, took Theodore by surprise. “Why would the Temple consider my opinion on that sort of thing? They never have before.”
“If you agree to sit down for talks with them on the issue of the Healing Houses, they will take your interest in filling the position as a sign of some… repentance.” Petra smiled, showing off blindingly white teeth. “Besides, if they believe you like me, they will leap at the opportunity to influence you. I’ll be transferred here within the day.”
“Did the Temple really feel that threatened by the edict?” Margot asked, amazed. They’d weathered criticism and censure — and worse, when evidence occasionally came out about what exactly the Temple did to get so many bright young witches in its ranks — but they’d never seemed truly threatened before. Not too long ago they had their own military arm, after all.
Petra nodded. “They don’t like it when someone thinks to reveal just how thin their authority really is these days.” She snapped her fingers. “Like that, you showed the world that, if one so chose, the Temple’s influence could be brushed aside. That rankles the High Gloriae, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Margot narrowed her eyes. They, huh? It was interesting that a woman of Petra’s rank would refer to her own organization as they and not we.
Turning back to Theodore, the Priestess continued, “If you feign an interest in having a closer relationship with the Temple, they will call off the boycott of Solbourne tech and save your image from an overzealous beating so soon after your ascension. A meeting or two with the Temple leadership to discuss the Healing Houses, a request for my transfer? Hardly a steep price for something so precious as your… marriage, don’t you think?”
“A marriage is an awfully simple thing to do, though,” he shot back. “Whereas sitting with Temple leadership for even a minute will cost me years of my life.”
Petra shrugged. “A marriage is not so simple, especially when you’ve given me no time to prepare. The sigilwork alone takes an expert hand.” Leveling him with a blandly pleasant look, she added, “Of course, you are free to go to any two-bit Priest to get your sigils done, but I warn you that the results may not be exactly as desired.”
Theodore held her gaze for a long moment before conceding defeat with a shrug and an easy smile. “Fine. I’ll play nice just long enough to get you transferred here.”
Petra’s smile, when she turned it on, was bright enough to blind. Looking like the cat who got the cream, she swept her arm toward the grand door that led to the main cathedral. “Fabulous. Shall we begin, then?”
Theodore and Margot shared a glance, their answers blending into one. “Yes, we’re ready.”
