by Jenna Moreci
“Cosima,” Leila said. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank You.” She picked up the folds of her dress. “I thought this was well-suited for the occasion. It has a regal flair, don’t You think?”
Leila took her in for a second longer before catching Her own reflection in the mirror. Violet draped Her figure, crisscrossing Her breasts and tying behind Her neck. Her long, dark hair was pulled into an elaborate braid and adorned in pearl pins, a perfect match to Her belt, Her bracelets. She nearly smiled, until She spotted Cosima in the mirror, eyeing Her jewels.
“Come.” Leila beckoned her forward. “Let’s get you situated.”
Cosima glided to Her side, and Leila began stripping Her bracelets, threading them onto Her sister’s wrists. Piece by piece, She peeled away the work of Her servants, and as Her body became barer, Cosima’s became more embellished.
“So, dove, tell me, what’s the plan for this meeting?” Cosima studied herself in the mirror, her eyes reflecting the light of Leila’s jewels. “I’m vaguely aware of the formalities, but one can never be too prepared.”
Leila kept Her gaze on Her work. “The competitors will join us shortly. Each will ask you a question, some attempt to gain your favor. All you have to do is answer as The Savior.”
“Anything You’d like me to say? Or topics to avoid?”
“The fact that you’re a fraud should probably remain unmentioned,” Delphi said.
Leila shot her a sideways glare. “Use your best judgment. So long as the façade is kept, I am content.”
“Of course. I just hope I live up to Your charm and grace. No one compares to The One True Savior. I’m honored to play the part.”
Cosima’s words were calm, loosening Leila’s tense shoulders. She unlatched the belt from Her waist, fastening it around Her sister with care.
“Now tell me, what of Your power?”
Leila straightened. “My power?”
“Yes. Your magic,” Cosima said.
“But you know all…” Leila cleared Her throat, “…most of My magic.”
“I’m simply being prepared.” Cosima’s smile never wavered. “Naturally these men will be intrigued. What if they ask why I’m not glowing?”
“Tell them you only glow in the daylight.” Delphi planted her hands on her hips. “The darkness is a precaution so they don’t fall flat on their asses.”
“But what if they ask how my light works?”
“Tell them it’s none of their concern,” Delphi said.
“Why would I say that?”
“Because it isn’t!”
“It’s fine.” Leila sighed. “Let’s just get through the day.”
“Thank You,” Cosima said. “Finally, a woman of reason.”
Leila swallowed a groan. “The source of My power is My light. It fills My body with energy. A divine illumination—that’s what the ancient scrolls call it. And everything in its path is strengthened. Renewed.” She unraveled Her braid, combing the loose strands with Her fingers. “My light… It bleeds through Me. I can’t help it. Just being near Me has its benefits. My touch is even better, like spoonfuls of tonic. And then there’s My blessing. My consent to share My power.”
Twirling a red curl around Her finger, Leila threaded a pearl pin into Her sister’s hair. “Think of it this way. Your body is a barrel, and I’m filling you up with My light. And that light can perform a service for you. Whatever service I command. I can grant you one of My gifts, or restore you, heal your wounds from the inside.”
Cosima nodded. “Is there anything else I should know?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your gifts. I imagine You have several. That shadow nonsense, for example.”
“Shadow walking.”
“Right. There has to be more You haven’t shared.” Her gaze brightened. “Say, what about Your eyes? They’re utterly curious in the light, as if Your stare has been set ablaze. If Your glowing touch is so magical, certainly Your eyes must be the same.”
Leila’s muscles tightened, threatening to snap. She glanced at the mirror where Her mothers lingered in the reflection.
“Well then,” Cosima prompted, “is there anything else?”
One mother gazed at Delphi in loving awe, while the other stared Leila hard in the eye, Her arms crossed as She shook Her head from side to side.
“No,” Leila said. “That’s it.”
The wall ahead of them caved in, revealing a darkened portal with Romulus standing in its frame. “It’s nearly time.”
Cosima laughed. “What in the world are you wearing?”
Romulus glanced down at his drab grey robes, a far cry from his usual tunics. “My uniform.”
“Cosima, be still.” Leila planted a hand on Her sister’s décolletage. “The viewing room is protected, but one can never be too safe. I’m giving you the gift of shadow walking.”
Cosima’s eyes lit up. “Marvelous.”
“There will be killers in our midst. If you feel threatened at any moment, use the blessing to escape.” The heat of Leila’s palm died. “There. It’s done.”
“You can move things!” Pippa pulled a ribbon from her hair, sending it disappearing in a tiny grey cloud before reappearing in her opposite hand.
“I think we’re ready.” Leila turned to Romulus. “Bring them in.”
His stare had softened, fixed on Pippa. He looked away. “It’s not too late. You can reveal Yourself as The Savior. Devise another plan.”
“Bring them in,” Leila said.
Glowering, he left the room.
The court made final adjustments to their ensembles, while Leila paced the floor. Delphi glanced over Cosima’s off-the-shoulder dress with a critical eye. “You’d be wise to cover yourself.” She plucked an emerald cloak from the rack and threw it at Cosima. “The Savior has white, celestial flesh.”
Cosima frowned. “Well, I’m certainly fair.”
“And so is Leila. More so, in fact. Best not to fuel speculation, yes?” Delphi turned to Pippa, smiling. “You too, you little trickster. Come here.” Pippa pranced to her side, standing somewhat still as Delphi clasped an olive cloak around her neck. She gave Pippa a pat on the bottom before turning Leila’s way. “Your turn, love.”
Leila trudged to her side, preoccupied over the task ahead as Delphi fastened the black cloak into place.
“Are You nervous?” Delphi asked.
“No.” Leila’s belly rumbled. “I mean, a little. About…” Her gaze floated toward Cosima, “…you know.” She fiddled with Her hair, occupying Her restless hands. “How was your visit with the men?”
“We’ll discuss it later.” Delphi pulled Leila’s hood over Her head. “But I will say, of all the prying questions the men threw my way, only one man asked if Her Holiness was kind. Would You like to guess who?”
Romulus’s voice echoed through the portal. The First Impressions was nearly underway. “I’ll enter first. The rest of you will follow.” Leila spun toward Her other two sisters. “We all know our parts, yes?”
“Of course, dove,” Cosima said. “We won’t fail You.”
“Thank you for doing this. You have no idea how much it means to Me.”
Cosima’s smile widened. “Anything for my beautiful sister.”
“Gentlemen, I give to you The Savior.” Romulus’s voice carried through the room, sending Leila taut. With a deep breath, She headed into the portal.
The tunnel was much shorter than She had hoped, quickly leading Her to the viewing room. Stone walls surrounded Her with traces of holy light bleeding through the crevices, illuminating the otherwise dreary space. Four thrones with black cushions and gold filigree sat ahead, and beyond them the air rippled like water. She was familiar with such shields, manipulations of magic from Saviors past, one of the few commendable examples of science paired with celestial power. Beyond the shield stood sixteen men, their shoulders low, chins high.
Bodies oiled.
Leila nearly started, unset
tled by the glistening meat. Pippa and Delphi entered soon after, and She forced past the perversion, searching the men’s faces for suspicion. Footsteps sounded, and Her stomach lurched when Cosima appeared.
Please let this work.
Cosima glided through the room, carrying herself with authority, regality. Stopping in front of her throne, she lowered her hood.
Leila stiffened. What is she doing? Cosima unclasped her cloak and set it aside, and every impulse within Leila fired off, mind swimming with worst case scenarios—with the weight of defeat before the ruse had begun.
“Kneel,” Romulus spat.
All sixteen men dropped to one knee. The women took their seats, and while Her sisters were poised, Leila dug Her nails into Her armrests.
As Romulus opened his mouth to speak, Cosima’s voice rang out instead.
“Please be seated.”
The men sat along a stone bench, staring ahead with wide eyes and cocksure grins. They were captivated by Cosima, enough so to calm Leila’s heartbeat.
“You have been blessed with the presence of The Savior. The One True Savior until Her divinity is passed. You may each ask Her one question of your choosing.” Romulus nodded at the line of men. “We’ll begin with the Poet.”
Hansel. He was a mess, his busted eye wrapped in bandages and cheeks covered in bruises, but still he beamed with admiration. He and Cosima exchanged pleasantries, and he cleared his throat. “Is it true? Does Your skin glow?”
Leila nearly snorted. That’s his question? Of all things?
“It does, in the sunlight.” Cosima raised her hand, eyeing her pale flesh. “My body is filled with energy—a divine illumination. It can be quite stunning…though I do mean that literally. That’s why I’m meeting you here, hidden from the sun’s rays. It’s best this way for now. The glow can be overwhelming for some.”
Hansel bowed, a wonderstruck smile on his face. Fifteen questions to go. Hopefully each one went as smoothly.
“Physician,” Romulus said. “Ask your question.”
Altair. He looked just as antsy as Hansel, the sheen on his golden-brown skin surely more nervous sweat than oil.
“Your magic…” His voice came out soft and eager. “Can we see it?”
Leila glanced at Her sisters, astounded. Of all the audacious requests…
Romulus glowered. “Physician, you are to ask The Savior questions, not request performances—”
“It’s all right,” Cosima said. “I don’t mind.”
Leila spun toward Cosima, aghast. Is she out of her mind?
“Would you still like to see it?” Cosima asked. “My magic?”
What magic? You have no magic!
Smiling, Cosima slid her hands through her hair, pulling out one of Leila’s pearl pins. She held it in her palm. “Open your hand for Me, dove.”
Altair obeyed as if Cosima’s order was of the utmost importance. The two stared at one another, Cosima’s eyes narrowing with focus, while Leila clawed at Her armrests.
The pin burst into a grey cloud, reappearing in Altair’s palm.
“A gift,” Cosima said. “From Me to you.”
The room gasped, while Leila let out a long breath. The blessing. She hadn’t intended its use for parlor tricks, hadn’t even considered the notion. She sank into Her chair, relief melting the tension in Her muscles.
“Regal.” Romulus’s voice echoed off the walls. “Your question.”
The brawny blond Lord sat tall, a smug smile on his face. Caesar. She recalled his circle of swine and their lecherous jeers, and disdain oozed from Her pores.
“Good day, Your Holiness.” He bowed. “I’m absolutely honored to make Your acquaintance. You’re a beauty to behold—”
“The question,” Romulus said.
“Well, the lot of us have just now seen some of Your magic, and what a fine act it was. But I’m curious, how exactly does Your magic work?”
Cosima studied her hands as if they carried purpose. “The source of My power is My holy light. It strengthens everything that crosses My path. Why, just being in My presence has its benefits. My touch alone is as good as a spoonful of tonic. But I can also bestow upon people a blessing. Think of it as My way of sharing My power. Your body is a barrel, and I’m filling you up with My light.”
“Fascinating. What an answer, such poetry.” Caesar glanced down the line at Hansel. “Better than anything this poor damsel could come up with, I’m sure.”
Some of the men chuckled, but Leila sat still, silent. Such poetry.
Except those were Her words. Her poetry.
Romulus continued down the line, each question proving more insipid than the last. Beauty, magic—the topics were uninspired at best, yet She withered with each passing turn, wounded in a way She hadn’t predicted. Before Her sat sixteen eligible men, and not a single one of them looked Her way.
Of course. That’s the point. But no amount of logic lessened the burn.
None of them saw Her.
“Your Holiness, do You fancy Yourself a thief?”
All eyes shot straight to the Adonis—Beau, the most delectable meat slab of them all. He sat in the center of the line, his perfectly chiseled chin high.
Cosima wavered. “Pardon Me?”
“Adonis, explain yourself,” Romulus hissed.
Beau smirked. “I only ask because it seems as though You’ve stolen my heart.”
Leila let out a throaty sigh, rolling Her eyes into the back of Her skull. The task had already taken its toll, and all She could do was count the seconds.
A muffled snort sounded from across the room. At the end of the line sat a headful of brown locks, his chin bowed as he chuckled in his corner.
“Do you have something to contribute, Artist?” Romulus said.
Tobias’s eyes darted between Romulus, Leila, and the other faces pointed his way. He cleared his throat, fighting a grin. “Apologies.”
Romulus grumbled before continuing on, and though Leila attempted to follow, Tobias lingered in Her peripheral vision. His hair was the slightest bit tame, and She could actually make out his carved jawline beneath his fading wounds.
“Shepherd. Your question.”
Black eyes faded from Leila’s mind, replaced with a crystal gaze. Kaleo leaned on his knees, smiling. “What is Your favorite flower? So I can spoil You with them when the time comes.”
Cosima hesitated, then matched his grin. “It’s funny. I hear everyone decorates with lilies on My birthday, yes? They were My mother’s favorite. Lilies are beautiful, of course…but I’ve always preferred roses. Pink ones.”
Leila crossed Her arms, Her glare panning between the two—Kaleo, eternally wretched, and Cosima, who had humored him despite that fact.
The questioning resumed, but Leila had had enough. Cosima filled the role beautifully, carrying herself with a finesse Leila couldn’t rival, certainly not with these questions to work with. “What is Your father looking for in Your Champion?” “When would You like us to be wed?” Leila cursed to Herself, Her patience dead and buried. Every so often, Tobias would chuckle from his corner, or he’d fight back a smile, but even that couldn’t salvage Her mood. What in God’s name is he laughing at?
“Now for our final competitor.” Romulus turned to the last man. “Artist, ask your question.”
Tobias’s grin faded. His gaze fell on Cosima, and Leila braced Herself for the idiocy that would surely spill from his lips.
“What is Your name?” he said.
The room went quiet, as did Leila’s prickly thoughts. Finally, something real. Something good.
“Cosima.” Another smile spread across her painted lips. “My name is Cosima.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet You, Cosima.”
The two stared at one another, their lingering gazes pinching at Leila’s gut.
“Your First Impressions have come to an end,” Romulus said. “Your questions have been answered. Now it is time for Her Holiness to deliberate. Today’s task was mo
re than a simple opportunity. Based on your performance, one man will receive the first reward of the Sovereign’s Tournament.”
The men murmured amongst one another only for Romulus to bark at them, sending them flinching. “The Savior requires a moment alone. Kneel.”
The men dropped to their knees without question, a pitiful sight, then rose per Romulus’s bidding. “The results will be presented in the sanctuary.” He cocked his head at a nearby portal. “You’re dismissed.”
One by one, they trudged from the viewing room. Tobias trailed the line of oiled men, glancing once more at the women—at Cosima—before disappearing with the others.
Pippa wrinkled her nose. “Why were they wet?”
Leila leaned back in Her throne, emptying Her lungs. The First Impressions were over, and Her plan had unfolded seamlessly.
From this point forward, Cosima was The Savior.
“A reward,” Cosima said. “That means time alone with The Savior, yes?”
“No, it just means time alone with you,” Delphi muttered.
Leila sighed. “I suppose then we should deliberate—”
“The Adonis,” Cosima declared. “He wins.”
Leila wavered. “The Adonis?” She glanced between Her sisters. “Aren’t you going to think this through? The Artist certainly asked a superior question.”
Cosima let out a laugh. “To hell with the questions. Did you see the Adonis?”
“But that horrid line—”
“God, wasn’t it awful?” Cosima gave a dismissive flick of her wrist. “He’s a dullard, that’s for certain. The beauties always are. But You know what they say: For simple pleasures, seek simple minds.”
“These men are risking their lives. It’s only fair the proper sort are honored justly.”
Cosima cocked her head. “Forgive me, I must’ve misunderstood my role. I assumed since I’m the one accompanying the men—and in turn shielding You from harm—I was to choose the winner of each reward.” She smiled, though her gaze was hard. “Please accept my apologies. I meant no offense.”
The challenge in her stare wore on Leila’s already aggravated nerves, but what truly gave Her pause were the jewels draping Cosima’s neck—gems of The Savior, a role Leila depended on.