“You work too hard,” Asher whispers next to her.
Priscilla’s heart stops at the sound of a familiar voice behind. She glances toward the door. The normal movement of the room stops. Blurs. All she can see is the figure at the door, nodding a greeting to Gabriel. Same russet skin and dark eyes. Same cheeky grin. Same faded scar on the side of his head from his previous wife’s own whip.
Priscilla smiles stiffly when he catches her eye. Her lungs forget how to inhale. The room begins to move again. She rises as he comes toward her.
“Priscilla Naveen,” he says in a silky tone. “We meet once again.”
“Hello Kreston,” Priscilla says, trying to sound calm. She peers behind him. “Is your wife with you?”
“No, no. Celia is home with the children.”
Two other members greet him. Priscilla pulls herself away, hesitates, then takes her seat again.
Asher leans in. “That’s Kreston?”
“That’s him.”
Asher nods slowly, fingertips dancing on his knee. “What is he doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“I thought he was married.”
“He still is.”
Gabriel rises to begin the service. The chattering dies down as everyone takes their seats.
“Welcome, dear friends, both new and old,” Gabriel says, looking at Kreston. “It is a beautiful day to meet in Herus’ house. Let us lift our voices to worship him.”
Priscilla cannot concentrate on the singing. While the room fills with voices praising Herus, Priscilla’s mind is on Kreston, somewhere behind her. She can pick out his voice in the group. The same smooth, low sound she loved so dearly once. Why is he here? Why did he come back? Why didn’t he bring his wife?
While a musician plays a soft melody on her harp, baskets are passed around for an offering to Herus. The offerings have been higher since Alesia’s baptism and the increase of members. The bills here have been paid from that, and, very slowly, the charge is being chipped away.
Gabriel’s sermon is about forgiveness, of all things. He speaks of Fillium Herus, who forgave the repentant criminal suffering on the cross next to his. He draws in those who do not believe with the message that Herus will forgive all who come to him. He also connects it with forgiving one’s fellow man. Priscilla knots her fingers in her lap. Did Gabriel know Kreston was coming today?
At the end of the sermon, Gabriel tells the musician to play again, softly. He prays for all in the congregation to be drawn to Herus, and for there to be peace and unity among the flock. Priscilla has heard sermons on forgiveness before, and she’s even prayed about Kreston. But it’s never felt as real as it does today, with Kreston in the same room.
But… he put me through so much. He broke my heart and didn’t blink an eye. Why do I have to let go of my anger? My anger keeps me strong. I have to fend for myself. If I give it up, I am being weak.
The Spirit wars against hers. Tears fill her eyes. Anger is not a strength; it is her most critical weakness. It has been poisoning her since Kreston left. It is so hard to let go, but she knows she must. It’s finally time.
At that moment, she prays for the man sitting somewhere behind her, who has done nothing to earn her mercy. After all, Herus forgave her when she did nothing to deserve it.
Father, I have held onto the past for too long. I’ve let bitterness take root in my heart, and today, I release it. Forgive me for my hateful spirit. Be with Kreston. Lead him in the way you desire, and help him draw close to you. I cannot forgive him of my own strength, but you are strong. Help me daily to forgive and let go.
When she lifts her head, tears streak her face. She catches Asher looking at her and quickly wipes her face.
After the service is finished, Priscilla looks for an opportunity to speak with Kreston, but he is talking to Gabriel. She watches them. Despite the service and all that has transpired in her heart, she hopes he is not returning to Tarreth.
Someone touches Priscilla’s arm. She turns to Anna behind her.
“Can we talk over here?” Anna asks, gesturing to a more secluded side of the room.
Priscilla nods and follows her there. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry,” Anna says. “I’m sorry for treating you like a leper these past weeks. With everything cleared away now, I see that you were only acting like Filium Herus would have.”
“Anna, I—”
Anna raises a hand. “No, I mean it. It takes true courage and selflessness to act the way you did. Did you ever meet Atticus, the guard from Maven’s cell?”
Priscilla thinks back. “I’m not sure. Perhaps.”
“There he is.”
Priscilla follows where Anna is pointing. A young man smiles as he talks with one of the ministers, a lovely woman at his side, small daughter pressed against her hip. She does recognize his face from the prison. He looks so much kinder without that low helmet.
“He’s here,” Priscilla says.
“And his wife and child. They came because of Maven’s testimony. Your testimony.”
Priscilla smiles. She can’t find words.
Anna touches her arm. “I was wrong before. I shouldn’t have turned what you did into something awful.”
Priscilla turns back to her. “I cost the Sanctuary hundreds of gold.”
“What are gold and silver coins to a God who only counts in souls?” Anna asks.
Across the room, Gabriel suddenly laughs aloud, clapping Kreston on the back. He makes his way back to the front of the group.
“Excuse me, everyone,” Gabriel says. “As you know, we’ve had some charges laid on us totalling about seven-hundred gold. Many of you remember Kreston Ahtar. He was with us a few years ago. He has graciously donated the remainder of funds owed, and this Sanctuary can once again open its doors to the needy of Tarreth.”
The room erupts in cheers as the blood leaves Priscilla’s face. She looks at once to Asher, who appears as if he’s been hit by an arrow. Among those applauding, he stands still, his eyes on her in a moment. He gives a small, pained smile, raises his hands, and claps along with the rest.
As the crowd clears, Kreston walks up to Priscilla. “I thought I’d make my return a memorable one.”
“Your return?” Priscilla repeats. “Kreston, where did you get all that money?”
“My father-in-law was killed when Prynveil was overcome by the bandits,” he says, his smile gone. “He left all his fortune to me and Celia.”
“And your wife is happy to see it go to the Sanctuary you left? Doesn’t the Prynveil Sanctuary need repairs after the battle?”
“We didn’t attend any Sanctuary in Prynveil. We preferred to worship Herus in our own home. Sanctuary rules are a little strict for our taste.”
“So then, why would you spend so much on this Sanctuary?”
“I just want to do something nice. Are you doing anything now?”
“Why?”
“I’d like to take a walk with you.” He leans closer, just like he did in Lembross when his wife wasn’t looking.
Priscilla steps back. She’s learned too much since then. “All right. I’ll meet you outside.”
He smiles. “Good.”
Priscilla touches Alesia’s arm, pulling her out of her interactions with David, Anna’s young son.
“I’m going on a walk. I’ll be back soon,” she says.
“All right.”
Priscilla then finds Asher, who looks away as soon as she catches his eye, blatantly pretending to be engrossed in conversation with Doran. Rose greets her as she approaches.
“I hope you’re well,” Priscilla says to her.
“I am,” says Rose. “Doran’s been getting good work for the past few weeks, and we’re saving up for a house on the waterfront.”
Priscilla lowers her brows. “That’s on the other side of Tarreth.”
“We’ll still make it to the services. But that’s all we can afford right now.”
“Why not stay here for a little whi
le?” Priscilla suggests. “With the charge paid, our doors are open, as Gabriel said. Maybe then you could buy a home close by.”
“Oh, well I’d have to talk it over with Doran, but that sounds lovely.” Rose leans in. “I didn’t really want to live on the waterfront, anyway.”
“I also need to speak with Gabriel about it, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem.” Priscilla tilts her head down at the blanket in Rose’s arms. “And how’s Missy?”
Rose opens the blanket. “Sleeping away, as she does. She’s such a good baby. Growing like a bud.”
“I’m so glad.”
“How’s your work going?”
Priscilla shrugs. “Rather well, though I suppose I won’t have to work there anymore. With the charge paid off, I’ll be able to minister the way I love.”
Priscilla glances at Asher, who is still occupied with conversation. She talks more with Rose about Missy’s growth until they bid their goodbyes. Asher immediately turns away from her. She grazes his elbow.
“Can we talk for a moment?” she asks.
“About what?”
She swallows hard. “Kreston would like to take me on a walk.”
Asher’s jaw twitches. “Then go. You don’t need my permission.”
“I’d like you to accompany us.”
His eyebrows lift. “Oh. Why?”
“Because he is married, and it is inappropriate for him to take me alone.”
“All right. I’ll tell Alesia.”
“I’ve already told her. He’s waiting outside.”
Kreston gives Priscilla an odd look when she meets him with Asher next to her.
“Shall we?” Priscilla asks. “I hope you don’t mind. I will feel more comfortable with Asher here.”
Kreston furrows his brows. “All right.”
They walk in stifled silence until Asher pipes up. “That was quite the donation,” he says.
Kresten thrusts his hands into his trouser pockets. “Yes, well, I wanted to make my return to Tarreth a memorable one.” His words clip like he’s spitting them out.
“So, you’re staying without Celia?” Priscilla asks him.
“No. With all the turmoil, we thought we’d move here. I was supposed to come and assess. But Tarreth seems fine. That’s what I wanted to tell you about.”
“Tarreth is going to war,” says Asher. “Haven’t you heard the rumours? I think Prynveil will be much safer than Tarreth for now.”
“Bandits are around all the time. And Esterden soldiers. It’s chaos in Prynveil,” Kreston says, raising his voice. “That service was the first time in weeks that I could relax. But you say Tarreth is going to war?”
“The rumours haven’t reached there, yet?” Priscilla asks.
“I suppose I’ll have to talk it over with Celia again.”
“Countess Ilvara of Lockmire was taken to Esterden and married to Lord Krassis,” says Asher. “Tarreth will have to do something about it.”
“I heard that. But if she’s married there now, why must Tarreth act?”
“Think of the leadership Lockmire will have if Esterden is linked with bandits,” Priscilla says. “Those poor people…” She catches Asher’s small smile.
“Exactly,” Asher agrees. “And their garrison will be made up of bandits and criminals. There will be no order or stability. They’ll waste resources. The people will suffer.”
“But there will be no safe place in Ardellon to live,” says Kreston. “Our children need a good home.”
“That’s what war does,” Priscilla says.
“Sometimes it is necessary,” Asher adds. “In this case, Lockmire needs a stable ruler, and Countess Ilvara needs to be freed, if possible.”
“Will you go to battle?” Kreston asks him.
“Absolutely.”
Priscilla scratches her arm. The thought of Asher going to battle terrifies her. There is no question about his ability, but there is always risk. He even admitted that he isn’t buying a house of his own until the war is over.
Conversation dies down. Eventually, they circle back toward the Sanctuary.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Kreston. I’ve heard much about you,” Asher says, shaking Kreston’s hand.
“Have you?” Kreston glances at Priscilla.
“Good seeing you again,” says Priscilla.
Kreston eyes Asher. “Do you mind if we have just a moment alone? I have something private to discuss with Priscilla.”
Asher looks between them. “She requested I accompany you.”
“We can discuss whatever you’d like here, in the street,” Priscilla says. “Asher—”
“Asher Xerxes?” a man calls from the street.
He glances away. “Yes?”
A man with a large leather satchel hands him a roll of parchment. “Letter for you.”
Asher scrunches his brows. “From where?”
“Esterden Castle.”
Asher hands him a few coppers and unrolls the parchment. His lips move indistinguishably as he reads. “It’s from Caius,” he says to Priscilla. “He wanted to ensure Francine and I got home safely. He’s wondering how Alesia is… He and Evelyn are working for Ilvara and Lord Krassis.”
“As soldiers or servants?”
“It’s not very informative, but I think servants. That’s what we talked about at first.” He glances up at the courier. “Stay on this street. I’ll have a response within the hour.”
The courier nods and strolls away. “I’ll return shortly.”
Asher sighs. “I should reply to this. May I use the parchment in the Sanctuary?”
“Of course. I have parchment and ink in my room,” Priscilla says. “I’ll be right in.”
As he leaves, Kreston smiles. “I don’t like him.”
“Oh?” Priscilla chuckles. “Why not?”
“He has a very forward manner. He isn’t trying to be subtle in the slightest.”
Priscilla looks back at the Sanctuary door. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Kreston begins walking toward the alley between the Sanctuary and the Shrine. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“You know where.”
Priscilla blinks at him. There was a spot they would always go, back then. Tucked between the Shrine and the Sanctuary were stacks of crates high enough to reach the lowest ledge of the Sanctuary roof. They’d climb up onto the tiles—with the second half of the building covering them from the streets—and watch sunsets, stars, snowfalls even, until the tile grew slick and their fingers froze. They’d hide away there to share their stories and secrets, to get away from the bustle of their lives, to be alone and learn what love was. The last time she saw Kreston was on that roof.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Priscilla says, her heart flopping over in her chest.
“Come on. We’ve both moved on. Just for a bit of privacy.”
Priscilla recalls it all so vividly. The quiet whispers. The melting warmth of his touch. She aches for it again. She aches to feel loved like that again. Weakness overtakes her, and she steps into the alley with him.
Kreston closes in on her, backing her into the wall. His presence is electric, as if the air around him is charged with static from a lightning bolt. He radiates with a dizzying energy. He smiles down at her.
“Look how I still affect you,” he whispers.
“What… did you want to say?” she asks him, struggling to keep some semblance of control.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” His hand is hot against her cheek. “I’m sorry for leaving you the way I did. I’m sorry for giving up what we had.”
“What we had…”
He’s so close she can smell his breath. Sweet, from the watered wine in the Sanctuary. She remembers what his lips taste like. Her mouth waters.
“I know it was a mistake now. Celia and I aren’t happy. Her children aren’t happy. I thought we would be. I thought I was doing a good thing. But I was wrong. You were my good t
hing. The only good thing I’ve ever had.”
“Had?”
Her mind comes swimming back to reality. The letter. The months and months of heartache. After he left, there were days she couldn’t even get out of bed. She almost ended up in the beggar’s alley herself.
She wriggles out from beneath him. “She’s still your wife, Kreston.”
“So you don’t feel anything for me anymore?”
“I…” Priscilla stands at the door of the alley. “It doesn’t matter. You’re married. You left me.”
“But I’m back. I’m here.”
She really meets his eyes then. Holds them in her grip and doesn’t let go.
“You are here,” she says. “But you need to go. Go back to your family.”
“You are my family,” he says. “I gave it all up for you, remember?”
“And then you gave me up for her,” Priscilla cries. Someone on the street turns to look. She shivers, the tightness in her chest threatening to burst. “You have to go.”
“’Cilly,” he says, voice hoarse. “Please.”
Priscilla thinks at first he said his wife’s name, but no. ‘Cilly was his name for her years ago. Without another word, she runs back into the Sanctuary.
✽ ✽ ✽
Caius,
Francine and I arrived Solisdie, the 27th of Viridis.
Alesia is doing well. Her mother was executed a week before I arrived, but Alesia has been very strong. She loves living here with Priscilla. She has become a minister of Herus and has been making many friends.
I hope that you, Evelyn, and Ilvara are doing well. I have been helping Priscilla in the Sanctuary, but I may not be doing that for long.
Asher Xerxes, Municipality of Tarreth
Asher rereads his response to Caius. He gazes around as he waits for the ink to dry. Priscilla’s room always smells good. She likes things clean and organized, so it never stinks of dust or grime. And the breeze from the window brings in the scents of summer, along with, unfortunately, the stale smell of the sewer brooks.
There’s a knock at the door. Alesia appears.
“Oh, Asher. I thought Priscilla was in here.”
“I left her outside,” Asher says. “Do you need something?”
“Alice wants me to join her family for a meal.”
Of Embers Page 28