A drop of blood appeared on her lips, but it was not the usual scarlet color, just the warmth of it. Rhianon tried to brush it away, but only smeared it on her lower lip.
«Thats good,» the spirit whispered approvingly. «At least your lips look a little pink.»
«Yes, now, shut up,» she demanded.
«For how long is it?» His voice was mocking as usual.
«Till tonight.»
He snorted disapprovingly, but obeyed the order. She wondered how long his patience would last.
Rhianon unfurled the puffy ruffles around her shoulders. Made of lace, they still looked like a cloud of eiderdown, a setting worthy of a queen. Gold lace ran along the embroidered sleeves, the tight corset was embroidered with a floral pattern, and the long belt was embellished with filigree. There was no hint that she was pregnant. The very thought of it seemed strange to her. She didnt feel anything foreign brewing inside her. On the contrary, the fire inside was only a part of her being. Perhaps it wasnt a child, but just a sheaf of her own flame. She would breathe it out burning the castle and there would be nothing left inside either. They were futile dreams. Rhianon knew that the seed of the fallen angel would not simply be disposed of. It was already forming into a living and omnipotent being, but her waist was still thin. Otherwise Ferdinand would hardly have decided to marry her. Who would want a pregnant bride? And Madael? Would he fly here to claim her and the child if he knew the child was his? Oh, by the way, did he know that? Rhianon had no one to ask. Well, when you look at it from all angles, how could he not know? Hes omniscient. Could such a small but significant detail have escaped his perception? And if he knew, why didnt he insist on his rights until now? Surely he wants this child, doesnt he? Does he want it? Or hadnt he even considered the possibility of having one?
He complained that he was lonely. Rhianon remembered. He had said that he had always been lonely, even there in paradise, when he had been considered a favorite of God. Was his loneliness here on earth even more palpable? He also said that he had missed love long ago before the beginning of time. How strange and cruel, everyone knew him as the favorite of the Almighty, and he felt no one needed him. When there is no love, you are alone even in the noisiest society. Now Rhianon felt it for herself. Enthusiastic crowds had gathered around her, and the nobles were also preparing to rejoice. Everyone was greeting her, throwing the same unfailing flowers at her feet, surrounding her with attention, and she felt so lonely. She was miserable.
That would soon pass when she got Loretta back into her possession. How much she had sacrificed for it, though if she looked closely, there was not much to sacrifice.
Now she even missed the annoying spirit. She wished he would have distracted her with some sharp remark.
«You look like youre going to the scaffold,» he whispered. Rhianon saw the bales of discarded flowers on the carpeted path, though no one had stepped on them. Her invisible companion was there. And he promised to keep quiet until tonight.
«But you wanted to hear me,» he excused himself. «You were the one who called me.»
His voice was much nicer than the hymns and chants in the cathedral. Rhianon wrinkled painfully when she heard them. Her ears felt as if they were about to bleed. The only thing that saved her was Ferdinands arm, which she could lean on. He was handsome in his white brocade embroidered with pearls. And yet he was no angel. Not Madael. Rhianon hastily looked away from his chiseled profile. She wasnt even sure how old he was. He looked eighteen at most. The wreath of myrtle in his short, curly curls accentuated his fresh youth. Only there, in the cathedral, would he wear the formal crown. For Rhianons sake he had briefly abandoned the observance of tradition. It turns out he is also flighty. It was hard to believe he already had two children she had yet to meet. Rhianon preferred not to think about it yet.
She also tried not to think about the fact that there was only a man walking down the aisle beside her. This wedding was in every way a breach of tradition. Ferdinand was leading her forward by himself. There were no best men or bridesmaids, only the uniformly dressed blue brocade maidens carrying her train. Bouquets of white lilies adorned the entrance. Why lilies? Their persistent scent and memories made Rhianon so dizzy she almost fainted. Perhaps she thought she saw Asmodeus black claws and mocking eyes behind the lush flowers in the shadow of the nave. He is the harbinger of misfortune. Rhianon shuddered. Maybe she just imagined he was here.
«Hes not the only one,» the spirit whispered behind her shoulder. «The cathedral is always full of them.»
«But how» «Thats not what religion teaches. It wasnt that at all.
«And how can people know anything,» the companion said instantly.
He did. Rhianon was hurt by the sight of the lilies.
«Youd better look up on the North Ridge,» the spirit advised her.
She turned swiftly, and saw nothing but a seemingly motionless statue. There was nothing else. It was only the glint of the sun on the metal. Her fear of heights suddenly receded, but with it came another.
«Its empty,» she whispered disappointedly.
«What do you mean, my dear?» Ferdinand responded in place of the spirit. She had been as oblivious as ever and had spoken the words to the spirit aloud.
«It is nothing,» she hastened to assure him. Rhianon hoped that Ferdinand would not be aware of her disappointment. He might not understand her, or he might have drawn his own conclusions. He knew about her affair with the demon, after all. And she felt as if she knew nothing. And really, what did she expect to see there, the glint of golden curls and the dazzling ray of angel wings? Did she think that he was sitting there on the roof of one of the cathedrals, immortal, invulnerable and angry? That he would rush down, pick her up, and drag her down with him, like he had done long ago the very first time.
«Thats exactly what he was going to do,» the spirit said.
«Now, really be quiet,» she called to him mentally. «Let me concentrate. Youre asking me to invite the devil to the wedding. Look, were already breaking all the rules. Neither Ferdinand nor I have family or friends here. Only strangers are invited. Hes already broken all the rules.»
«And hes marrying someone elses wife,» the spirit eagerly reminded her.
Rhianon wanted to turn around and remind him that she had made no vows to Madael, but she was afraid. What if she saw him behind her, or discerned a winged silhouette on one of the rooftops? It was better to look only forward. Like the flowers beneath her feet. She wondered why people are used to present flowers as a sign of love? They quickly wither? Is it as quickly as fame, youth or love? Love! Its as if shes been slashed with a sharp blade. Love is far away. It is in the fringes of heaven, in the cold underworld, or in hell, where exactly now the fallen angel was, she did not know. Perhaps he wandered the mortal world, looking for her, or going to wring her neck. Love and desire for power should not be confused. One day he would understand that.
For the hundredth time, Rhianon wondered why she did what she did. She wondered why she could not have won at a lesser cost. She could have used her ingenuity and sorcery instead of yielding. So why did she do it?
«Yes, because you like a handsome young king, even if he was already married, and youre also attracted to the idea of becoming queen of Vinor,» the disembodied voice was mocking, but as always it hit the mark.
«Yes, because you like a handsome young king, even if he was already married, and youre also attracted to the idea of becoming queen of Vinor,» the disembodied voice was mocking, but as always it hit the mark.
Yes, she liked Ferdinand, and she wouldnt mind a kingdom like Vinor, either. In contrast to the flabby body, the empty purse, and the impoverished Duchy of Rothbert, the second offer was too tempting. And she accepted. And now, as in a morass, she walked down the aisle. She feared both revenge and indifference from her former lover. But the main goal of her life, Loretta, was far more important. Let her heart ache. It is supposed to. If it is to be believed that Dennitsa himself laid the foundation for the subsequent betrayals of all lovers on this earth, then they are following a path that has already been beaten. It was meant to be that way. What can you do against fate?
«And yet you could fight it»
She let the spirits words pass her lips. And they didnt sound any louder than an echo in the dark, airy cathedral. The massiveness of the building overwhelmed her. She felt like a speck of dust lost in outer space. In Madaels arms she had never felt this way. Though he owned the whole world, it was so warm and cozy with him. The grandiosity of his designs and possessions never pressed her. And the vaults of the cathedral, though stretching to unreachable heights, seemed to close over her head like a tomb. The colored stained-glass windows in the height were beautiful, but they made her eyes sting. Columns of dark marble were lined with white garlands. Rhianon feared that Asmodeus was still hiding behind one of them, but she strode boldly down the nave anyway.
Many people crowded the place, and still the space seemed overwhelmingly large. Mostly the nobility was present. The common people stayed behind the massive doors. Only the most powerful and wealthy people of the kingdom were crowded into the front rows. Rhianon glanced over to see who had caught her talking to the spirit. He was present. He was in even richer robes than before. It was hard to see him in such a crowd. He was squeezed on one side by a number of counselors, and on the other by dressed-up ladies. Still, it was the lily pinned to his buttonhole that caught her eye. He knows, she thought. The flower is a sign to show it to her. Who does he know? She sensed no connection to astrologers or witchcraft.
«Domian, the First Minister,» the same spirit whispered in her ear. «Dont see that his hair isnt even gray yet. Hes older than he looks.»
She looked at him briefly, but he caught her gaze and tilted his head in deference. Just like the first time. It was as if he was stalking her and looking for signs of her attention himself, calling out from the crowd, and then happily intercepting her gaze.
She didnt even have time to be wary. The marriage ceremony had already begun. The coronation would immediately follow. In some distant part of her hearing, she picked up the anxious cries of birds over the cathedral. It was as if they were warning her of something or trying to dissuade her. Such a commotion only came before a storm was coming. Even before an epidemic came to the city the flocks of birds did not seem so anxious.
«No! No! No!» she caught in the birds cries outside the windows and the rustle of their wings. There were even a few crows among the disturbed flocks. This seemed strange to her. She had long associated crows with Rothberts servants, but these evidently were not. Though who knew them?
She tilted her head so she couldnt hear them. Still, she thought she could hear more powerful and massive flapping in the fluttering of the tiny birds wings. Other wings were flapping over the cathedral, too. They were his wings. Or were they the wings of his servants. She tried not to think about it.
«Youre just an illusion yourself,» Rhianon thought, and turned away. But his dry rustling laughter echoed in her mind. How easily he could have merged with the ringing of bells, the dry rustling of leaves, or the surrounding silence. People at Mass are most often unaware that the silence around them hums not from angelic voices, but from other dark and fearful ones lurking in the darkness. She knew that Asmodeus whispers whatever he wants to clergymen of all ranks, and they obey him. Blinded by their pride, they could not see that they were being led by the devil, or rather, not the devil himself, but his servants. Madael himself would never have condescended to such petty meanness or to such vanity-torn humans. Nor would God himself ever condescend to those who are called his earthly servants. Madael is the former favorite of God, and he imitates him in everything. And likewise, he has his own servants for minor errands. His servants here were just full, right in the darkness of the nave and the stuffy height above the heads of the crowd, while he himself remained unreachable. Quite like a deity. The only thing that distinguished him from a god was the love he had once known. In any case, the capacity to love had once been awakened in him. It was late, but it came to light. And from God, Rhianon only felt something crushing. The cathedral pressed against her. She felt stuffy, and she was glad shed worn a dress with an open neckline instead of a lace jabot. Otherwise the collar would have begun to choke her. Someone was spreading the veil over her shoulders, but not a man. She felt the subtle touch of her invisible companion. He touched her gently, as if she were a shrine.
«You are the only sacred thing there is, and not for me alone for him too,» he might not have whispered it. Rhianon covered her eyes. Her golden lashes suddenly became stiff and stabbed her skin. The words of the Archbishop who crowned them were lost in the general hum. There was a murmur in her ears. The light crushing in the colored stained-glass windows stabbed her eyes. In a moment it would burst into flames and burn everything around it. Rhianon was afraid to look up and see one of Madaels servants sitting high on the balustrade around the dome or one of the rungs below the ceiling. What if he himself is here?
The persistent scent of flowers made her dizzy. There was a sea of them here today. Gardeners must have cut whole plantations of white roses and lilies to garland the apse, and the pulpit, and all the arches or columns. White bows matched the bouquets. Everything here was white against the gloomy background of the majestic structure. Just for one moment she thought the lilies in the bouquets were bleeding.
«Dont look ahead!» The spirit warned.
But why is it? She is about to be crowned. Rhianon could almost feel the thin golden hoop of pearls and golden prongs being placed upon her head. It was so reminiscent of a ceremonial wreath, only it was not made of flowers but of jewels. It would now replace the myrtle. She bent over as the clergymans wrinkled hands placed the wreath on her head. Only when she felt the pleasant cool weight on her forehead did Rhianon lift her eyes. What was so scary ahead that she should not look at? She hadnt seen anything like that. And none of the local servants, no matter what rank he wore, could see the seal of the devils kisses on her lips. They didnt even suspect. No one in Vinor except the astrologers and the First Minister could look inside her and see the devil in her heart, much less consider the supernatural fiery fruit in her womb. Even more, these people had no idea how dangerous she was. She could breathe fire on them at any moment, easily ignite everything here and burn herself. No, she would not. Rhianon believed that Madael would have pulled her out of the fire anyway. It was as if he were invisibly with her everywhere