understand it’s preferable to produce heirs through human birth.” Probably so they wouldn’t be saprophytic monsters. “Calling for surrogates and creating a new heir via ritual and Calanthe’s intervention is an extreme process. Besides which, I’m human enough that I was an infant, then a child, an adolescent, and so forth. Any podling would have to do the same. I didn’t leap full-grown from a flower with a crown on My head.”
Con muttered something about not being so sure about that, but I ignored him. While they pondered, I quickened the pace of our horses. Mother Ascendant had emerged from the temple, along with my other four ladies. My heart leapt with gladness to see them again.
“My question, Your Highness,” Ambrose said mildly, “is why You told me that you knew a ritual was involved, but not the specifics You described just now.”
I frowned, realizing the wizard was correct. “That wasn’t a lie. I didn’t know then. Why do I now?”
“Because You’re coming into the fullness of Your knowledge, Your Highness,” Mother Ascendant said, taking point to greet me. She wore her thick silver hair in a long braid, woven with orchids. “Your communion with the orchid ring has grown tremendously. It’s there to give You access to the answers You need. Welcome home, Euthalia.”
“Thank you. It’s good to be home.” I began to dismount and somehow Con was already magically there, lifting me down with his big hands around my waist.
“Allow me,” he said, well after the fact, then released me.
“Mother Ascendant, may I present Conrí.” I did not call him my husband, and he caught the careful omission, giving me a sardonic side eye. But then he went down on one knee, lifted the hem of Mother Ascendant’s robe, and kissed it.
“All bright blessings to you, Mother Ascendant,” he murmured.
She looked amused but placed her hands on his bowed head. “Blessings to You, Conrí,” she intoned. “But please rise. I am no priestess of Ejarat. And call me Mother. Everyone does.”
Con flowed to his feet, his grace always surprising given his bulk and raw appearance. “Forgive me, Mother.” He gave her a crooked grin, glanced at me, and back to her. “I’m not clear on where Calanthe stands in the pantheon of gods and goddesses.”
She smiled warmly, the laugh lines crowding her dark eyes. “I believe it is a fallacy to expect deities to follow a hierarchy. That’s a construct of human hubris. A trait You are familiar with, yes, Conrí?”
I braced myself for his bristling anger, but Con shook his head in chagrin. “A humbling lesson, and a harsh one,” he agreed.
The world must certainly be coming to an end if Con had developed self-awareness and humility, though I stopped myself from acidly saying as much. He didn’t deserve my scathing anger—I didn’t even understand why I wanted to rail at him. At the same time, I wanted to weep and cling to him.
I needed to get this over with and move on.
“Lady Calla,” I called, holding out my good hand and keeping the twig hand firmly in my pocket. “Lady Orvyki, Lady Nahua, and Lady Zariah. It’s so good to see you.”
Given permission, they ran to me with glad cries and happy tears. They all sank to the ground around me in billows of colorful skirts. Being at the temple, they had forgone wigs and wore their natural hair loose, decorated only with flowers. They took turns kissing my hand, voices overlapping as they exclaimed over their fear for me and rejoicing that their prayers had been answered.
“Praise to Calanthe, who protected Your Highness and brought You home to us,” Calla intoned.
I barely restrained myself from looking at Con, wanting to point out that the escaped slave and rebel she’d disdained had more to do with my survival. Along with a wizard and a brusque warrior woman.
“May I, Your Highness?” Calla asked, looking to the orchid on my wrist, a puzzled frown for my hand in my pocket.
Of course, I would have always offered them the hand that wore the orchid ring. With some reluctance—ridiculous, as these ladies knew me nearly as intimately as Con did, and for far longer—I withdrew the twig hand and proffered the orchid to them. I caught Ibolya edging into the periphery of my vision, concern in every line of her body as the other four ladies stared at my monstrous hand, aghast.
They all began speaking at once and, suddenly exhausted, I waved them to silence. “Lady Ibolya, would you please