The Half King

by Melissa Landers

If she summoned one now, she would be guilty of disobedience and thus barred from the supper hall.

“You may remain here with me at the temple,” the Reverend Mother said. “But I do not believe this is your place. Today I learned that my oldest and most trusted servant has died. I believe your purpose is to replace her as the temple emissary to His Majesty Kian Hannibal Mortara.”

“I have Seen more than the death of the king’s emissary. I have foreseen a possible end to the curses.”

The place where the Great Betrayal happened. The very same mountain peak on which the four noble dynasties had gathered together and conspired to slay the goddess. Conspired and failed, resulting in a thousand years of curses for the noble firstborns and the lands of Mortara.

“Well, there’s an old rumor,” Daerick went on, “that the Solon seducer was a woman and that Shiera impregnated her and sired a race of demigods. The Triad believes that Shiera’s descendants should be in control, not the priests or even the king. They have followers in all four lands, but the sect is especially popular here.”

For his body to follow the pull of his spirit was an oddly romantic element of his curse that she hadn’t anticipated.

“Neither,” she teased, smiling and blinking her eyes dry. “The goddess achieved perfection when she created women. We want for nothing.”

There’s no such thing as an unnatural tendency. If something occurs within nature, it is by default natural. What’s unnatural is to vilify it and criminalize it and force people into hiding for being born the way they are.”

“I should have told you,” he said. “Kings are stubborn creatures. But now that my secret is out, you might as well know that I like you, my lady of the temple. I like you very much.”

“Fire blood,” Nero corrected. He jutted his chin at her. “You’re a descendent of the goddess. Her life force runs in your veins.”

Will you be so afraid to dim your gift that you end up dimming your own light in the process?”

The slain beauty had not heard the girl’s prayer. But the goddess had. And in a rare twist of fate, her merciful and vengeful sides were both listening that day, the perfect balance of darkness and light to grant a prayer so double-edged as justice, for there could be no change without battle, no battle without pain.