Hated by her lineage, Iliya Dalaminai dwells in self isolation, awaiting the day her cousin marries so she might escape the Throne.
Feared by the Gods, Sorein Chakrine's crown is mainly a relic put on display at royal ceremonies to ward off evil.
Wh...
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For hours, Iliya waited for Rhydian to leave her room, her mind bleeding in and out of sleep, imagining footsteps as he slipped away.
Finally, a soft voice notified him that the trial was about to begin, and he left her, assuming she was asleep.
She hadn't been able to recover after the mention of a Ritual. The longer she mulled it over, the more Iliya realized Chiori Faire had never performed one.
She was more sure than ever of her plan. She would sneak into the Grand Archive as soon as the trial began.
If the entire High Court had eyes on Sorein, none of them would suspect he was behind the failing wards.
Her rings had burned irreparably, leaving the runes on her arm exposed for anyone to see. She couldn't bear explaining them to anyone else, not when she didn't understand them herself.
Iliya snuck out of bed and tiptoed over to the medicine cabinet. Halavesta had taught her the combination of runes to enter when she was tending to the Solstice victims.
Iliya reached in and snatched a vial from the top left. Deep blue liquid wobbled inside, protected by a cap and a cork.
Her body tingled with nerves as she twisted the cap off first, then popped out the cork. Inside was a concoction of herbs, distilled adrenaline, and healing mana which would make her fit enough to escape the Estate.
Rhydian once told her that soldiers referred to the potion as a fate tonic. He'd said the medicine might appear to grant luck to the drinker, but oftentimes it only allowed one to jeopardize themselves.
Fitting, she mused.
Iliya pressed the glass to her lips and took two big swallows before wincing at the acidic taste. The soupy elixir clogged her throat.
Her aches and pains soon began to fade.
After checking the room, Iliya only found the shredded pieces of fabric she'd worn to Azuris. The thought of putting them back on was less than ideal, so she started for her room.
Passing the Laundry Suite, Iliya took a few steps back and smirked.
More ideal and much closer. Iliya ducked inside, dodging past an overwhelmed Priestess who didn't seem to notice her.
A fresh stack of women's garments sat folded on a table, along with two pairs of men's trousers.
Quickly changing into the black cargo pants and a loose fitting green blouse, Iliya knew she looked every bit the commoner that she always prayed to be. She combed her fingers through her hair and tied it into a loose bun that hung against the back of her neck.
Ducking her head into a closet, she found a black overcoat waiting to be steamed. She pulled it from the hanger and over her arms.
A pair of training boots had been placed on a lower shelf. Caked in dirt and slightly big, Iliya crammed her feet into them anyway.
