“Maybe so, but how am I supposed to know that? It’s not like I’ve ever seen a real live princess before.” It’s not like I’ve seen much of anything before. But that’s not Merrick’s fault.
It’s no one’s fault, really. It just is.
The princess glides to the top of the ramp, and I push up on my tiptoes to get a better look at her. She’s tall, really tall, and though I tell myself that it doesn’t matter, I can’t help being a little jealous.
Not of her tiara or her amazing dress but of her long, willowy height.
I know high priestesses aren’t supposed to care about their looks, and most of the time I don’t. But every once in a while, being the shortest person in any room I’m in really stinks.
Today it stinks more than usual. Partly because I’m lost in the crowd and partly because in every glimpse I manage to get of her, the princess looks perfect. Regal. Serene. Confident.
I’d really like some of that serenity—and that confidence. Both are hallmarks of every high priestess the Sisterhood has ever had. Until me.
The princess floats toward the dais, her feet barely touching the ground. As people lean forward, eager to get a glimpse of her, I realize Merrick and I will soon be face-to-face with her. “Merrick?”
“Yes, High Priestess?”
“What do I call her again?”
He sighs, and in it I hear all the disappointment he doesn’t voice. But he doesn’t have to. I get that I’m a trial and a tribulation to him most days, but I also suspect that deep down, he cares about me. “If she addresses you directly—and let’s all send up a special prayer that doesn’t happen—then you must call her Your Highness.”
His words momentarily quash my excitement at being here. In the same room as the princess, yes, but also here on the space station, so far from the only place I’ve ever lived. Home.
But then the energy of this place—of these people—has my blood fizzing in my veins. “Got it. And, Merrick—?”
Another sigh. “We went through all of this on the flight. You should have been paying attention.”
“I know. But I was in space, Merrick. In actual space.” And I wanted to know how everything worked. I think I annoyed the poor pilot with my incessant questions.
But what does Merrick expect? I’ve spent my entire nineteen years of existence in the monastery on Serati. And except for this one trip, it’s likely where I’ll spend the rest of my life—as all the high priestesses do. So I intend to make the most of it.
“Don’t curtsy,” he tells me, and I glance over at him as he smooths a large hand down the front of his white robes. “It’s not required of an ambassador, and for the love of the Dying Sun, do not touch her. That’s punishable by death. Just remember you’re representing not only the Sisterhood but the planet of Serati.”
How could I possibly forget? My own importance has been drilled into me every day of my life.
Though I’m honestly still scrambling to believe that I’m here. I shouldn’t be. But at dinner four nights ago, the ambassador who was supposed to go— I cut off the thought before the picture of her choking and foaming at the mouth forms in my brain yet again.
She was poisoned, Merrick says. By someone who hates the Sisterhood, obviously. And someone who wanted her to suffer.
Even after what happened to that poor woman, I didn’t think I’d be selected for this trip. As high priestess and the second-ranking person in the Sisterhood’s hierarchy, I know I’m important—to the Sisterhood and my planet. But I don’t normally play an active role in anything. I just…wait. And have faith. And when the time is right, I’ll… Well, no one actually knows that bit. Or if they do, they haven’t shared it with me yet.
Still, all will eventually be revealed.
Or not.
Like each of the high priestesses before me, I’ll likely die not knowing, then be reborn to live this life again.
Except, for the first time, that might not be true.
Merrick says we’re in unprecedented times. My spiritual advisors tell me everything is different now.
Because the time of the Dying Sun is upon us. It began nearly twenty years ago. At first there were only a few signs of instability, mainly solar flares, but as the years passed, our sun began changing color—first orange, now tinged with red. Plus, it’s expanding, causing system warming that is—at the moment, anyway—mainly affecting the inner planets. Serati was always hot, but now it’s seriously hot.
Despite the downsides, it’s been an exciting time for the Sisterhood, with a record number of new members. Unfortunately for me, that excitement hasn’t managed to extend to the monastery.
But thoughts of rebirth remind me of something. “Did you know we’re both from Askkandia?” I ask Merrick.
It’s unusual for a high priestess to come from anywhere but Serati. I’m apparently an anomaly, but the portents were all in place. When the old high priestess dies, another is reborn. And there are all sorts of signs and precursors that guide the Sisterhood to the new priestess. In this case, those signs guided the Sisterhood to me.
“Me and the princess,” I clarify.
“Yes,” Merrick replies shortly. But then, Merrick knows everything.
“And we’re both nineteen?”
“I’m aware of that as well.” He jerks his chin toward the princess. “Now pay attention.”
Merrick’s watching everyone carefully. He’s a warrior priest and has been my bodyguard for the last four years. Though honestly, it’s a pretty cushy job. He’s trained to fight, but it’s not like there are a lot of threats in a monastery. Except poison, but that’s a very new development. A four-day-old development, to be exact.
Ever since that night, he’s been eating a bite of my food and drinking a sip of my drink before I ever get to touch it. Bodyguard and poison tester now.
No wonder he’s in a bad mood.
Plus, this gathering is a whole different situation, and he’s been distracted since we got the news. I can’t decide if it’s because he’s worried about protecting me or if he’s just wondering why I, of all people, was chosen to be the ambassador from Serati.
Of all the people on our planet, how could the Sisterhood really think I should be the one to replace Ambassador Frellen when she died? Surely there was someone more suitable for the job. Someone who was actually trained in the protocols of the Ruling Families.
I don’t even look Seratian.
The people from Serati, where Merrick was born, are unique—they’ve adapted over the generations to cope with the planet’s less-than-ideal conditions of high heat and low gravity, not to mention off-the-charts levels of radiation. While I’m short, with pasty white skin, Merrick is tall and quite thin. His skin is tanner than mine because he’s outside more, but it also has faint silver lines in a beautiful swirling pattern that is common to all people of Serati, as it helps keep them cool in the brutal temperatures. He has narrow, slightly tilted eyes with dark black irises to cope with the radiation, and his hair is platinum blond.