Temperance Read Free Page A

mind, she got an unexpected response.  
    No, Maeve, ‘tis not quite normal. Your brother… He holds great power. He just does not know it. You’d do best to remember that.
    She wanted to look at the man—or being—who was in her head and ask him what he meant. But she knew the protocol. ‘You mustn’t raise your eyes until you are instructed to do so.’  
    As the sound of his feet moved him down to her final sibling, Rhiannon, she sensed the air warm. It felt calming, and she heard his voice—commanding as ever but with an air of deep affection to it.
    “Rhiannon, third daughter of Iona, the last Empress of Arcania. Do you assent to bearing witness for your eldest sister, Maeve?”
    Maeve could hear the smile in her youngest sister’s voice as she replied, “I do.”  
    Once the ritual was complete, Maeve was aware of him coming back toward her. As he brushed by her and his coat touched her gown, the power that hummed off him coursed through her and made her feel…intoxicated.
    As he turned and stood in front of her, she found herself fixated on his white pants and wondered when he would allow her to look upon him.  
    Then he spoke.
    “Maeve, look upon me, child.”
    She raised her eyes and saw him reach forward with a golden crown.  
    It was engraved with branches that entwined to represent the trees of their land, and a brilliant stone was set at each of the three pointed peaks, representing their Guardians. A burning amber rock for the sun, a blue moonstone for the moon, and a sparkling diamond for the star.  
    Maeve had never owned anything so exquisite in her life.  
    When he lowered his arms, Maeve closed her eyes and bowed her head, knowing that this was it.  
    As soon as the crown had settled upon her head, she felt her joints lock up, paralyzing her in place, and her entire being heated from the inside out. A warm flush of pleasure spread throughout her body. It radiated from her chest down to her fingertips and toes, and as the heat flared and burned brighter, it seemed to lick back up her veins until she heard, Lach’Lan , whispered throughout her mind.
    When the name registered, it was as if her heart had caught fire from the incredible burn inside her chest. Then it was stated aloud for her siblings, the witnesses, to acknowledge.  
    “Lach’Lan.” The Hierophant’s voice reverberated around the walls of the palace.  
    The tone, the command, and the power of the word radiated off the man before her but did nothing to ease the incendiary sensation inside her body.
    Maeve felt as though she were about to pass out from the pain when, from below the balcony, she heard, “Present am I.”
    As soon as the three words were spoken, she wanted to find the man who’d delivered them, but she could not. For even though her temperature was subsiding, her momentary paralysis remained.
    “Come, boy. ’Tis time to take your place up here beside your Empress.”
    As the final word was spoken, Maeve’s body was once again her own. The burn had simmered to that of a mild fever, and as she turned her head to the stairs behind her, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man climbing them, she spotted Sera.
    Her sister’s face had drained of all color, and her mouth was pulled tight in a thin, angry line. Maeve wanted to go to her, ask what was wrong, but suddenly, all of her attention and all of her being felt as though it were being pulled toward the man who had stepped onto the balcony and was making his way toward her.
    Her body thrummed with approval as he strode her way. As he stopped beside her and looked down to where she was kneeling, Maeve took a moment to study this man she was now linked to for the rest of her existence. He was tall, at least several inches above her brother, and had dark-brown hair that was longer than most tucked behind his ears. He was wearing the Imperial Guards regalia, and it fit him as if he were born to it, outlining his broad shoulders and strong arms.  
    That was when