Page 45 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

Hyacinth wore an even more ridiculous robe than normal. Could you make thread from gold? Because I’m pretty sure that’s what had happened with that monstrosity. I had pulled on the sash I’d donned the first day at Temi’s insistence, and our clothing shimmered under the sun, which beat down like it knew my destiny, like it intended to punish me too.

Guards swept around us like a wall. Crowds pressed against them, peeking over shoulders, clapping hands, smiles sparkling in the daylight. We stepped up to the temple, and I stumbled, thrusting my hands out to catch myself. Hyacinth’s brow furrowed, but he continued forward.

Inside, the noise died down aside from the humming of priests chanting somewhere in the distance. Large columns stretched into the shadowed ceiling. The air came cooler. Incense burned and tangled with the coppery scent of blood that bit into the breeze. My nose wrinkled, but I kept moving.

Hyacinth swept his hand out to the statue of a god with long hair and noble eyes. The scepter in his grip had lightning bolts carved along it. It looked nothing like Father, far too honorable. But I nodded as Hyacinth spoke. “As you can see, we pay the highest honors to your father.”

I fought a scowl at the show of it all, at Hyacinth, the ring leader. “Yes. That’s very fine.”

He frowned, and we stepped farther into the temple, towards the blood. My stomach churned. Some animal screamed. So, they sacrificed more than one creature. The silvery outline glowing against my skin blurred, and my head pounded. I stumbled another step and caught myself on Hyacinth’s arm. He braced me by the elbows, his face crumpling. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

He sucked in a breath. The guard beside him shifted, and Hyacinth dropped my arms. “Are you drunk?”

I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Does it matter? Yes, it matters—the people of the city have prepared for you to see the temple today. They’ve sacrificed and—”

“Of course they’ve fucking sacrificed,” I growled. “That’s what the people have to do to appease the damn gods, isn’t it?”

Hyacinth blinked, raising his hands and then dropping them. “I shouldn’t be shocked that you’re drunk. But… the people… you’ve…”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m more coherent smashed than you are sober.”

His nose flared, his eyes flashing. “And I’m more responsible drunk than you are on any day sober.”

“I won’t argue with you on that point.”

He hissed. “You don’t even care, do you? You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”

The guards' gazes shifted to us, and the spicy, thick smell of the air deepened. My head swam. “You’re one to talk.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I clicked my tongue, taking another uneasy step. “It means exactly what I said. You sit in your fancy damn palace, wearing your outrageous clothing, and not understanding what the average people in your kingdom experience.”

“Who are you to speak of the people in my kingdom?” Hyacinth’s voice rose. The priests turned towards us, and he dropped his volume to a hiss. “You don’t even care enough about them to bother showing up sober for this temple presentation. You’ll allow your father to destroy them, so don’t talk to me about my people.”

I bared my teeth. “Don’t worry yourself, Prince.” I spat the word. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll walk around and watch the damn atrocities that happen in these temples—the people sacrificing what they don’t have, so the fucking gods can live in luxury and waste their immortality exploiting humans that gain nothing from them. So, yes, please carry on with your tour. And I shall write my father a detailed letter explaining just how devoted you all are.”

Hyacinth’s lips parted like he might speak, but I interrupted him with a growl. “But, if you want my personal take on the matter. I would delight if this fucking temple burned to the ground.”

I smacked my shoulder into his and walked past the guards and back out into the sunshine and crowds, leaving him with his mouth gaping as he watched me exit.

“Get up.” Temi yanked the blankets off of me. Light blared into the room from the windows, lighting it up like it lay in the sun's heart.

I groaned, grabbing a pillow to shove over my head, but Temi snagged it away. “Temi, please.”

“Sit up. Right now.” I cringed and touched my hand to my temple, and she slapped it aside. “Don’t even think about drawing your hangover out. I want you to feel it.”

I sat and dropped my face into my hands, blocking the light. “Okay. So, you’re mad at me.”

“Are you kidding me, Apollo? You shamed him today. Publicly. How could you? You said you’d do this. You said you’d try.”

I blew out a breath, and the room spun in a blur of ivories. “You know I hate dedication day.”

“Oh, shut up.” Her voice shook, and I lifted my face. Tears streaked across her cheeks. “You want to spend this year numbing yourself and not even trying? Fine. You do that. But I’m not going to stay here to see you self-destruct in slow motion.”