"And I would deny you." She turned away.
"I beg of your mercy." He hated saying the words, and he guessed by the sound of her laugh that she knew it.
The Scribe Virgin came back to him.
When she spoke, her tone was hard, hard as the black lines of her robe against all the white marble. "If you're going to beg, warrior, do it properly. Get on your knees."
Wrath forced his body down to the ground, hating her.
"I rather like you like this," she murmured, back to being relatively pleasant. "Now, what were you saying?"
He swallowed the hostile words in his throat, forcing himself to affect an even temper that was an absolute lie. "I love her. I want to honor her, not just have her to warm my bed."
"So treat her well. But there is no need to have a ceremony."
"I disagree." He tacked on, "Respectfully."
There was a long pause.
"You have sought no counsel from me over these centuries."
He lifted his head. "Is that what bothers you?"
"Do not question me!" she snapped. "Or I will have that half-breed taken from you faster than your next breath."
Wrath put his head down and ground his fists into the marble.
He waited.
Waited so long, he was tempted to look and see if she had gone.
"I will require a favor," she said.
"Name it."
"You will lead your people."
Wrath looked up, his throat squeezing shut. He couldn't save his parents, he could barely do right by Beth, and the Scribe Virgin wanted him to be responsible for his whole goddamned race?
"What say you, warrior?"
Yeah, like no was an option. "As you wish, Scribe Virgin."
"That is my command, warrior. It is not my wish and not the favor I will ask of you, either." She let out an exasperated noise. "Do get to your feet. Those knuckles of yours are bleeding on my marble."
He stood and leveled his eyes on her. He stayed silent, figuring she was probably going to lay some more conditions on him.
She addressed him sharply. "You have no wish to be king. That is obvious. But it is your birth obligation, and it is about time you lived up to your legacy."
Wrath dragged a hand through his hair, creeping anxiety tensing his muscles.
The Scribe Virgin's voice softened. A little. "Worry not, warrior. I will not leave you to find your way alone. You will come to me and I will help you. Being your counsel is part of my purpose."
Which was a good thing, because he was going to need the help. He had no clue how to rule. He could kill a hundred different ways, handle himself in any kind of battle, keep his head cool when the goddamned world was on fire. But ask him to address a thousand of his people in a crowd? His stomach rolled.
"Warrior?"
"Yeah, you'll be hearing from me."
"But that's still not the favor you owe."
"What is-" He brushed a hand through his hair. "I take that back."
She laughed softly. "You always did learn fast."
"I'd better." If he were going to be king.
The Scribe Virgin floated closer to him, and he smelled lilacs. "Put your hand out."
He did.
The black folds shifted as her arm came up. Something fell into his hand. A ring. A heavy gold ring set with a ruby the size of walnut. It was so hot he almost had to drop the thing.
The Saturnine Ruby.
"You will give her this from me. And I will attend the ceremony."
Wrath gripped the gift so hard, it bit into his palm. "You honor us."
"Yes, but I have another purpose in coming."
"The favor."
She laughed. "Good one. A question posed in the form of a statement. You will, of course, not be surprised when I do not indulge you. Go now, warrior. Go to your female. Let us hope she is a good choice for you."
The figure turned and moved away.
"Scribe Virgin?"
"We are through."
"Thank you."
She paused by the fountain.
Black folds shifted as she reached out to the tumbling water. When the silk fell back, a blinding light was revealed, as if her bones glowed and her skin were translucent. The moment she touched the water, a rainbow sprang from the contact, filling the white courtyard.
Wrath hissed in shock as his vision suddenly cleared. The courtyard, the columns, the colors, her, all of it came into sharp focus. He latched onto the rainbow. Yellow, orange, red, violet, blue, green. The jewellike colors were so brilliant, they sliced through the air, and yet their vivid beauty didn't hurt him. He drank in the sight, wrapped his mind around it, held on to it.
The Scribe Virgin faced him, dropping her hand. Instantly, the colors vanished and his vision faded again.
She'd given him a small gift, he realized. Just as she'd put the ring in his hand for Beth.