I grinned. “Tights then.”
“Perfect.” She hopped onto the stool once more.
As she slid the tape beneath my arms to measure my chest, I once again thought of what Rhahar and Bele had shared. If word of Ash choosing a mortal as his Consort had spread to the other Courts, wouldn’t the people of Lethe have heard?
And what did they think?
I told myself I didn’t care because it wouldn’t matter. I would be no true Consort. My responsibilities lay with Lasania. I was their Queen, even if I never wore the crown. But I asked anyway because I…well, I couldn’t help myself.
“They have heard of you.” Erlina left the stool to write the numbers down. “Of course, many are curious. I do not think anyone expected His Highness to take a mortal as his Consort.”
“Understandable.”
“But they are excited. Thrilled may be a better word. And honored,” Erlina quickly added, a faint hint of pink staining her sandy, golden-brown cheeks. She held the book to her chest. “There are a lot of mortals in Lethe,” she explained, surprising me yet again. “For His Highness to take a mortal feels like…an acknowledgment to many of us. Like even though he is a Primal, he sees us as his equals, and there…well, there are not many like him. Many cannot wait to officially meet you.”
I felt a strange flip in my chest and nodded. I didn’t want to think about Ash viewing mortals as his equals. Not because it seemed ridiculous but because I thought that it was true.
I cleared my throat. “And they’re thrilled that he is marrying?”
“Of course.” A wider smile raced across her features. “We want to see him living—see him happy.”
My stomach plummeted fast as I stood there. “The people of the Shadowlands…they respect him?”
There was a pinch to the slash of her brows and then a flash of understanding. “It must be hard believing that we have grown quite fond of the Primal of Death. Before I came to the Shadowlands, I would’ve laughed at the idea of such a thing, but…” A shadow crossed her features as she ducked her chin, coming to stand beside me. “But there were a lot of things I didn’t know then. Anyway, His Highness is loyal to us.” Her deep brown eyes met mine. “And we are loyal to him.”
Many questions rose in response to what she shared, as did the bubbling sense of unease that settled in the center of my chest. “Where…where I am from, not many respected the Crown. They didn’t have reason to.”
She drew the tape around my waist. “Where are you from?” I asked.
She shifted the tape to my hips. “Terra.”
I didn’t know much about Terra except that it consisted mostly of farmlands with not nearly as many cities as Lasania. “Have you lived here long?”
“I suppose it depends on what one considers long,” she answered, moving away to capture the measurements. “I left the mortal realm when I was eighteen, but I did not come to the Shadowlands until I was closer to nineteen. I’ve been here ever since, so that would be...thirteen years.”
“Where were you before you came here?”
She knelt, stretching the tape the length of my leg. “The Court of Dalos.”
My eyes widened. “You were at the City of the Gods? With the Primal of Life? I didn’t know there were mortals there—I mean, besides the Chosen.”
“There aren’t,” she stated, stilling for a moment. “At least, not when I was there.”
Confusion swirled through me as the cool tape pressed against the inside of my thigh. “Then how did you…?” I trailed off.
“I was Chosen.”
I stared down at her, struck silent for a moment. “Was?”
Erlina nodded.
“And you’re not anymore? You didn’t Ascend?”
A twist of a tight smile appeared. “I did not Ascend, thank the gods.”
My lips parted, and immediately, I thought of Ash’s reaction when I mentioned the Chosen’s Ascension. He hadn’t shared something then, that much was clear. “I have so many questions.”
She halted, looking up at me, her eyes wide. For a brief second, I thought I saw fear in her gaze. Terror. A long moment passed, and then she moved on to my other leg, measuring the inseam. She said nothing more as she finished up and only spoke again to ask what colors I preferred. Erlina left shortly after, hurrying from the chamber as if it were filled with spirits.
I slid my arms through the robe, absolutely bewildered by what she’d shared—what she obviously wouldn’t elaborate on. I’d just finished tying the sash when a knock sounded on the bedchamber door. “Yes?” I called out.
The door opened to reveal Ash. That odd whooshing sensation swept through my chest again at the sight of him. He wore the dark clothing with the silver trim as he’d done while holding court. His reddish-brown hair was pulled back to the nape of his neck, giving the harsh beauty of his features a blade-sharp edge.
I hadn’t seen him since I’d fallen asleep. Beside him. Was that why I felt a flush invading my skin?
Ash had halted just inside the door, his silver gaze fixed on me—on where my fingers were still twisted around the sash. I saw a quick swirl of eather in his eyes, and then he moved, closing the door behind him. “I saw that Erlina just left. I thought I’d check on you, see how things went.”
Check on me?
Why would he do that? Or was that just something normal people did? I had no idea, and I also didn’t know why him doing that made my chest feel funny. I snapped out of my stupor. “Everything went fine.”
“Good.”
I nodded.
Ash stood there, and so did I, neither of us speaking. In the back of my mind, I knew that this was the perfect opportunity to strengthen his attraction to me. I wore nothing but scraps of lace under the robe. I could loosen the tie, let it fall open. Asking about what Erlina had shared would do very little to further my cause.
But I wanted to understand how a Chosen had ended up in the Shadowlands. “Erlina was a Chosen.”
The change in his features was swift and striking. His jaw hardened, and his lips thinned.
“She didn’t tell me much beyond that,” I said quickly, not wanting her to possibly get into trouble. “Why didn’t she Ascend?”
Tension bracketed his mouth. “Is that what mortals believe still happens to the Chosen?”
I stiffened. “Yes. That’s what we’ve been taught. That’s what the Chosen spend their lives preparing for—their Rite and Ascension. They serve the gods for all time.”
“They don’t,” Ash stated flatly. “What you know of the Rite and the Chosen is nothing but a lie.” A muscle ticked along Ash’s jaw. “The Rite you celebrate—the one you hold feasts and parties in honor of? You’re celebrating what will ultimately be the death of most of them. It wasn’t always that way. At one time, the Chosen were Ascended. They did serve the gods. But that is not what it is now, and it hasn’t been for a very long time.”
A coldness seeped into my skin. “I don’t understand.”
“No Chosen has been Ascended in several hundred years.” Ash’s eyes were the color of the Shadowlands sky. “From the moment a Chosen arrives in Iliseeum, they are treated as objects to be used and given away, toyed with and eventually broken.”
Horror swept through me as I stared at him. A huge part of me simply dove into denial. I couldn’t believe it.
I couldn’t…gods, I couldn’t comprehend that. Couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that these men and women who’d spent their lives in the mortal realm, veiled and groomed to serve the gods in one form or another, were taken from the mortal realm only to be killed. The smile of the young male Chosen formed in my mind. It had been so wide. Real and eager.