His Hidden Desire (18+)

Chapter 7

Danaë dismounted her horse as the taller guard held the reins. Stepping down onto the worn stones outside of the temple's gate, she felt her legs shake beneath her.

Horsemanship had been a component of her training, but she'd never gotten used to the sensation of having a large beast carrying her.

Rearranging her skirts, Danaë marshalled her composure and turned to her escorts.

"I don't believe there's any need for you to follow me inside. If you wish, you can wait here. I'll find you once I'm done."

The shorter guard nodded, tethering their horses to one of the hitching posts.

Turning away, Danaë clutched her cloak around her – another loan from the former queen's wardrobe.

The soft, fur lining tickled her skin, and she knew she would miss it when she had the guards return it.

Taking a deep breath, Danaë began the climb up the stairs.

At the top, a small, stone alcove held a basin of water, and she dipped her hands in to perform the ritual ablution.

With downcast eyes, Danaë walked past the gallery of stone statues and a pair of doors leading off from the central pathway.

Ahead, the light grew brighter as the stone walls opened up to a courtyard. A ceremonial bonfire occupied the center, with carefully tended bushes and ornamental trees lining the space.

As Danaë followed the stone path around the fire and toward the nave, she watched the careful work of the priestesses, pruning the bushes, sweeping the stones, tending the fire.

If all went well, she would be joining their ranks before the day's end.

Fear built in her chest, and Danaë pushed it down, crossing the threshold into the holiest part of the temple. Candles lined the walls, making shadows dance across the floor. Ahead, a priest stood in the pulpit, reading scripture in a singsong cadence peculiar to the clergy.

Danaë stopped roughly midway through the hall, amidst a scattered handful of worshippers. Finding a space reasonably distant from the others, she sank to her knees on the woven prayer mat and lowered her head.

Closing her eyes, Danaë breathed in the familiar, comforting scents of incense and candle wax. The sweet, smoky fragrance had been a source of reassurance to her from her earliest memories.

Feeling the weight in her chest lessen, Danaë relaxed her muscles and let the words of the priest soothe her.

So, this will be my life now...

The thought crossed her mind, and she opened her eyes, staring at the faded threads beneath her.

It would be a quiet life, circumscribed by ritual and work. She would keep her true identity a secret and serve the Almighty under the veil of anonymity.

Lifting her eyes to gaze about her, Danaë examined the centuries-old architecture, craftsmanship that had withstood the ravages of time.

These walls would be her home, her world.

Breathing out, Danaë felt an ease she'd been sorely lacking.

Her decision was made.

All that remained now was to take the vows.

Standing quietly, Danaë walked out of the nave and into the courtyard.

Unsure of her next step, she sighted a sweeping priestess, clad in coarse brown robes over a simple woolen dress.