lips and the incredible sensation of warmth and power flooding her body afterward. It was even more pleasurable than love. A drop of his blood… Rhianon tried not to think about the way she touched the ground and turned into rubies. Madael is invulnerable, after all. He could not be killed or hurt. And he is immortal.
«Perhaps I will die, and he will still kill his enemies on the battlefield… and if only his own enemies, not the enemies of the Almighty…»
«Don’t go into mourning. Not yet. We have a wedding to celebrate before then,» the spirit reminded her. «Then it will be the coronation.»
She nodded again, indifferently. There was a knock at the door. She must go now.
«Couldn’t you…» she turned to the spirit, and then stopped short. No, she wouldn’t do that. No, she wouldn’t send anyone to him now, notify him of her intentions. Otherwise he would come here and ruin everything. She won’t have Loretta or Vinor or hope for the future. She didn’t want that.
«If it weren’t for God,» she’d thought of it so often. «He could avenge for her, return her Loretta and never lost her himself.»
«If there was a god, there would be a devil,» the spirit finished for her. «And if there were no devil, the world would be just. You’re dreaming for nothing, child, the world was already created that way.»
«You see everything in black,» she teased him.
«I can see deeper than mortals like you can,» he said nonchalantly.
He had a point, and yet Rhianon protested:
«I’m not like other mortals anymore.»
«You’re better off if no one else knows about it but me. People don’t like those who are too different from them. Remember, one false step and your recent success in the throne room could backfire on you. If the queen ends up causing displeasure, she too may be burned as a witch. The occasion is already there. Everyone remembers how death worshipped you. Do you think she fell in love with you?»
– He, not she,» corrected Rhianon sharply.
«It is he, not she,» corrected Rhianon sharply.
«What difference does it make? It has not made any difference to you.»
«And you have been watching me the whole time, how could you have known?»
«You look like an angel, my dear, and angels are sexless.» He easily found excuses and turned everything into sophistry. «That’s why it’s easier for angels to choose their lovers. Nothing matters to them but a beauty like yours.»
Someone touched her cheek lightly. Rhianon felt the touch, though she did not see the speaker. It was exciting and unsettling at the same time. He seemed to be leaning over her right now. And there was already a knock at the door.
«Come, they’re waiting for you,» he announced, as if she didn’t know it yet.
Rhianon took one last look in the mirror. She was too pale. The white gown embroidered with pearls and the white myrtle in her hair accentuated the deadly whiteness of her skin. And her golden eyebrows and eyelashes look like painted ones against her. Is this what an angel should look like? More like a marble statue. Rhianon reached for the jars of blush, but someone seemed to have intercepted her spirit. She had barely touched it, and the blush had scattered all over the lace tablecloths in a sea of glitter.
«And yet you’re perfect,» the same spirit whispered in her ear. «The world has never seen a prettier queen. I mean both your world and ours. Don’t take a harpy with you to the ceremony, she’ll ruin it.»
«I’ll do as I please,» she was suddenly angry.
«Of course, darling,» he answered in a venomous tone, and yet the touch on her fingers was immediately insensible. So he let go of her hand. Rhianon fixed the curls in her forehead. Combined with the white flowers, they looked like pure gold. Indeed, she was beautiful. The whole town would notice it tonight.
She just didn’t want the pesky spirit to distract her from the ceremony. She already felt awkward enough before the wedding and coronation. She would be entering the Temple. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach. She felt as if she was betraying someone by entering a consecrated place. Here we go, she was already afraid to even call him by his name. What if he flew in? And then what would happen? He will crush Vinor faster than the epidemic, or just throw accusations in the face of the newfound queen. She is a traitor. And she knows it herself. He can show up here and call her that in front of everyone. Without his cloak he is but an angel with wings, no one can see the devil’s grief in his eyes. And who would be right, he or she?
Rhianon bit her lips nervously. How easily he could have ruined her. Even without sorcery, he could ruin her plans with his mere appearance. If he was jealous of her, he would do so. And if he loved her, he wouldn’t. She had little faith in love. Far more important is desire, especially for the devil. Once satisfied, he can forget forever. Besides, if there is no beautiful body, there is no love. She herself could not fall in love with one of the burnt monsters in his army. So what if they used to be the most beautiful angels, but now they are disgusting. Neither would Ferdinand have offered her to be his queen had he not found her the most beautiful girl in the world. Now of course she could have tinted her face with talcum powder and rouge and lined her lips with carmine, but she decided to leave it as it was. The angelic pallor suited her better.
She had already had an elegant wreath made of gold, adorned with large pearls and sapphires. The cooler shades suited her very well. In the past she would have been glad of ice-colored stones and white brocade woven with flowers, but now she longed for something scarlet. What a pity her new crown lacked rubies.
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.
«That’s 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 didn’t feel anything foreign brewing inside her. On the contrary, the fire inside was only a part of her being. Perhaps it wasn’t 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? He’s omniscient. Could such a small but significant detail have escaped his perception? And if he knew,
