The priest shook his head. “You understand that a mortal body cannot survive the power of a star.”
“I have been faithful all my life.” I clenched and unclenched my hands in the folds of my skirt, where the others might not see them. “I know what I give, and what will be taken. How much longer will the Sun wait for us to decide?”
Others whispered to one another, and I realized I was not the only one afraid. Our people had kept the Sun, the greatest god of the sky, waiting three days already.
“Ceris,” my father murmured, but he said no more. He felt the heat of the cathedral’s fire through the heavy walls of the tent. He knew the god watched us. He knew what greatness I would bring to him, even if it meant losing me. And I hoped the strain in his voice meant that losing me mattered.
Softening, I moved to him and took his hand. “You will see my legend in the night sky, Papa.”
The point of his throat bobbed. “But must it be you?”
“The first volunteer has claim.” The priest turned to Gretcha, Anya, and their mothers. “You may return home unburdened.”
All four women’s eyes shone like Sunlit brooks. Gretcha’s mother fled, daughter in tow, as though I would change my mind if she was not swift. Anya’s mother bowed to me, and Anya mouthed, Thank you, before departing.
I hoped she would visit Caen first and foremost.
“You must go to the cathedral.” The priest spoke reverently, and I couldn’t help but feel he would have used the same tone at my wedding as he bound Caen’s hands to mine, my body draped in a dress I now would never wear. Fear and pain stabbed my midsection, and I bit my tongue to keep them trapped there.
I would have to leave immediately, or I would never fulfill my promise. After the way Anya had looked at me . . . breaking my promise was something I could not do.
“You must enter through the front doors, despite the heat,” he continued. “You must bear it and walk, unshod, to the altar in the eye.”
For years I’d dreamed of being Caen’s wife. Of keeping a house for him, of lying with him, of bearing his children. I’d dreamed of waking up to his face every morning and falling asleep to his hands every night.
As the priest spoke, those images became more and more brittle, until they began to crumble to dust at my feet. If I woke up to Caen’s face, there would be no smile on his lips. If I lay with him, there would be no lust in his hands. For him, there had only ever been Anya.
Why should three hearts break, when it was needed of only one?
“You must kneel at it and offer a prayer to the Sun. Offer yourself. If you are accepted, He will take you up.”
I held my tears until I left the tent. Now that I’d set my fate in motion, I felt a strong pull toward the cathedral. But my sisters and my mother stood in my path, leaning against one another, holding hands, connected in a way that was both foreign and heartwarming to me. Already I was bringing us together, and I hadn’t even reached the cathedral.
Walking toward them, I embraced Pasha first, then my mother, leaving a kiss on her cheek. When I reached Idlysi, she threw her arms around me so fiercely she squeezed the air from my lungs. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I love you, Ceris. I will never forget you.”
I couldn’t remember the last time someone had told me they loved me. “I love you, too,” I croaked before moving away. The pull toward the cathedral intensified, overwhelming the sweet feeling that had begun to build in my breast. I felt His eyes on me now. I felt His impatience and His readiness as a heavy wool coat.
The others watched me as well. Streaming from homes, the council tent . . .
But I kept my focus on the cathedral and its wings of fire, burning as brightly as the Sun.
The air sweltered as I moved closer, unbearably hot as I approached the doors. Sweat puddled in my hair and the small of my back. I licked my lips and tasted salt. My hands shook as I lifted fingers to the door.
The handle burned me.
I bit down on a shriek and jerked my hand away, cradling it to my breast. Had the Sun rejected me, then?
Don’t look back, I warned myself. Let them be happy.
I grabbed the handle with both hands and wrenched the door open, the searing breath of a god enveloping me.
I don’t remember stepping forward, only the thud of the door closing behind me. The scorching onslaught of air made me stagger and fall, my hands and knees burning against the stone floor. The ends of my hair curled, and I breathed hard through my mouth as heat stole the moisture from my tongue, nose, and eyes. I felt I could not stand, but the stone blistered, and I had to.