But I knew I would have to come back, and sooner rather than later.
Every time I had sat at this table, I had felt so exposed—deeply connected to my Sisters and ashamed of what that connection might unwillingly reveal. I loved my Sisters, or at least I thought I did. Now, I pitied that version of myself, for whom love meant hiding so many different aspects of herself.
Yet maybe some of that girl still lived in me, because I broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of sitting at this table again, irrationally afraid of what the others might see in me.
Atrius, of course, had sensed my anxiety last night, as I tossed and turned in bed. He’d pulled me against him, curling his body around mine, and grumbled into my hair, “They’ll listen to you. If they don’t, we’ll just kill them all.”
I’d been grateful for something to laugh at, even though I wasn’t actually sure that he was joking.
I felt the pressure of this meeting. That much was indisputable. But now that I was standing here in this room, the pressure was just the same pressure I felt before any of the many diplomatic meetings I’d had in the last few weeks. I had expected that this room would feel magical in some way. Blessed. Like it saw too much of me.
But I had already witnessed that—when I stared into the face of Acaeja herself.
I witnessed it every time I was in the presence of Atrius.
This? This was just a room.
Still, there was some power in ritual. I set out the chairs myself, placing them evenly around the circular table. I spread the salt. No, none of it was magic. None of it was godly. But it helped us all feel a little less alone in this world—and that counted for something.
When I sensed the Sisters approaching, escorted by Erekkus and his men, I tied my blindfold on once again in a show of respect to them and to our shared history. I was seated at the center of the table, in the chair the Sightmother once occupied, my fingertips pressed to the salt. The Sisters were ushered in and sat down in their seats. They all were healthy and clean. Still, I sensed their fear, wary and palpable.
Some held their hands to the salt immediately, grateful for something familiar. Others hesitated for a few uneasy moments before acquiescing.
Asha was the last one to act. Her presence was the coldest.
“You don’t have to,” I said, “if you don’t want to. I just wanted you all to see my truth as I see yours.”
Asha didn’t acknowledge me and kept her hands on her lap. That was fine.
I turned my head, feeling all the familiar souls around me. I smiled. “It’s good to see you all together again. I’ve missed you.”
The truth. I didn’t intend to speak anything but the truth, tonight.
“I hope you’ve all been comfortable… even though I know the circumstances haven’t been ideal these last few weeks. And I’m sorry for that. A lot has been changing.”
“You killed the Sightmother,” Asha spat.
A ripple of fear, grief, anger spread around the table. Erekkus took half a step closer, as if preparing to restrain Asha, but I held up a hand.
“I didn’t,” I said, “but I’ll take responsibility for her death.”
Her lip twitched with a sneer. “You were always so lost in your worldly wants. None of us are surprised that you murdered the Sightmother and fucked a vampire to make yourself a queen. And you expect us to follow you?”
Once, her words would have hurt.
Now, I felt nothing for her but pity. This was fear. That’s all.
“No,” I said. “I don’t expect anything from you. I’m just trying to give you something. You can take it if you want, or not.”
“And what is that?” she sneered.
“Something that was kept from all of us. The truth.”
I pressed my hands against the grains of salt. I exhaled my nervousness.
I had never before been honest at this table.
“All I ask of you,” I said, softly, “is for you to listen.”
But tonight, I opened my soul, exposed the threads I had always been so desperate to hide, and I gave them all of it.
I gave them the truth.
I was braced for their response. What I had revealed to them was an affront to everything they had known about the Arachessen. We had all been raised to have complete, unquestioning faith in our Sightmother and our goddess. What I was telling them now… it was such a gutting betrayal that it would be easier for them to deny it.
Some of them grew angry as I talked, interjecting with vitriolic accusations. Others were withdrawn and silent. I answered all their questions. I gave them all the scant proof I could. I offered to take them to see the body of the Pythora King, in its clearly manipulated state.