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Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Locusts at the Gate Chapter 2: A New Name Chapter 3: The Capital Prepares Chapter 4: The Princess is Dead, Long Live the Princess Chapter 5: Outside the Gates Chapter 6: Inside the Black Tent Chapter 7: Surrender at the Temple Chapter 8: The Cult of the Locust Chapter 9: The Locust's Tenets of Faith Chapter 10: Mourners on the Cliff Chapter 11: The Eye of Betrayal Chapter 12: The Dead King's Bedchamber Chapter 13: The Arms of the Goddess Chapter 14: Zayaan of the Narim Chapter 15: The Eyes of the Priestess Chapter 16: A More Permanent Disguise Chapter 17: Tribute Chapter 18: Sacrifice of the New Moon Chapter 19: The Lost Bird Chapter 20: Manah and the Priestess Chapter 21: Desert Creatures Chapter 22: Become the Swarm Chapter 23 The Price of Betrayal Chapter 24: Life Under the Locust Chapter 25: Wild Rose Chapter 26: The Lady Wren Chapter 27: Thought and Desire Chapter 28: The Lady's Captivity Chapter 29: The Wine Maiden Chapter 30: End of Childhood Chapter 31: The Children of Aisha Chapter 32: The Forest Runner Chapter 33: Three Sisters Chapter 34: The Hunt Chapter 35: Bones in the Forest Chapter 36: Lullaby Chapter 37: The Hunter's Horn Chapter 38: Ways Between Ways Chapter 39: Morning Star Chapter 40: A Prophecy for Baraz Chapter 41: Equinox Fires Chapter 42: The Lord Prince Takri Chapter 43: Evening Star Sets Chapter 44: Chaos in the Courtyard Chapter 45: Dasha Chapter 46: Memories Chapter 47: The Body Slave Chapter 48: Caged Beasts Chapter 49: Message from the Capital Chapter 50: Heresiarch Chapter 51: The Color of Blood Chapter 52: Winter Winds Chapter 53: The Bookmaker's Closet Chapter 54: Wrapped in Dignity and Beauty Chapter 55: Vessel of the Goddess Chapter 56: Cracks in the Walls Chapter 57: Two Brothers Chapter 58: The Court of Women Chapter 59: Favored of the King Chapter 60: The Sweetest Fruit Chapter 61: Daughter of the Temple Chapter 62: A Nation of Bastards Chapter 63: The Lute Player Chapter 64: Aisha's Prayer Chapter 65: Promises Chapter 66: Lives Lost Chapter 67: The Tea Maker Chapter 68: Object of Desire Chapter 69: Empty Shelves Chapter 70: Darkness and Light Chapter 71: The Love of Men Chapter 72: The Cursed Ones Chapter 73: Hiding Places Chapter 74: Old Men's Tales Chapter 75: False Prophecies Chapter 76: The Lord Prince Radu Chapter 77: Love Becomes Life Chapter 78: Mistress and Mother Chapter 79: A Test of Strength Chapter 80: The Strigoi-Viu Cometh Chapter 81: Scraps from the Table Chapter 82: A Fool's Errand Chapter 83: The Little Ghost Chapter 84: Stolen Honeycakes Chapter 85: Breathe Chapter 86: Beneath the Palace Chapter 87: Red Pebbles Chapter 88: Common Men Chapter 89: Love and Duty Chapter 90: Nightmares Chapter 91: Earth and Sun Chapter 92: Love and Creation Chapter 93: Until My Last Breath

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Chapter 54: Wrapped in Dignity and Beauty

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Nasreen took her place with the other temple prostitutes inside the brothel as she had almost every day since the fall of Adyll.  The room was overly warm, heated by the central fireplace against the cold winds blowing in from the north.  A bead of sweat dripped between her naked shoulder blades, causing her back to itch uncomfortably.  Her hair was now long enough to hang just below her shoulders, but the dry air inside the Room of Choosing caused it to simultaneously cling to her face and float weightlessly around her in a halo of electricity. The heat was better than standing naked in the cold, but not by much. 

For the last week, Nasreen had refused the drugged wine offered by the procuress in hopes the young Narim prince would visit the brothel again.  She wanted her head clear when she saw him, so that she would not be fooled by his false words of love and kindness.  The image of him standing over the old oracle while the Locust King praised his valor still burned in Nasreen's mind like the fire that burned the Zora to ash.  Now, she craved the stupor and disassociation the drink brought with it.  The numbness would be preferable to sweating and itching in bored silence for hours. 

Why do I keep thinking of him? Takri wouldn’t bother coming to the brothel.  He is now Lord Prince Takri.  A member of the royal house.  He has access to the royal harem.  What use would he have for a temple prostitute whose hair is still shorn from her vows?  

Nasreen shook herself from her reverie. 

Since the riots of the Day of Between, most of the Swarm were pulled away from the carnal delights of the temple brothel to perform extra patrols around the city.  The last few days the only customers were priests rather than men of military rank. 

Takri was military rank.   

Why does he haunt my thoughts?  I want nothing but to forget him, or to spit in his face and claw his eyes.  I thought I felt the Lady move within me that day with him in our small room.  Everything was safe.  And now, nothing is safe. 

A blast of cold air blew through the room from the brothel door, followed by the sound of soldiers’ voices conversing with the procuress.  Nasreen and the other women straightened their posture for inspection by reflex. 

It isn't him.  It isn't him.  Stop thinking about him.  He isn't coming. 

She kept her eyes downcast, looking only at the officer’s boots through the red haze of her veil as he approached with the procuress. 

"This is the one.  She is called Nasreen," said the procuress.  "She is not yet ready for duties at the palace, as you can see.  Nasreen, remove your veil and show them your hair." 

Nasreen complied, keeping her eyes downcast as the procuress turned her around to display the length of her hair.  

The procuress sounded nervous as she continued. "It is unfortunate that her hair curls.  It has not yet grown to the appropriate length as described in the requirements laid down by our God and King for harem attendants.  We would be very honored to send her at a later date," said the procuress.  "Nasreen is too young and is still in training in the arts of pleasure." 

"He has asked for this one, specifically.  She is the one who served the Lord Prince Takri when he came to the brothel, is she not?  She is as described.  You can be assured of the Locust King's gratitude," said the highest-ranking member of the group.  "Dress her appropriately.  The King will not want her cold and shivering when she arrives for her audience.  You should be honored, Procuress.  She has made quite an impression on the newest member of the royal household." 

"We live only to serve," said the procuress, bowing deeply.  She hurried Nasreen out of the Room of Choosing, and down a hall to a dressing room full of garments like those worn by the holy prostitutes in the days before the Locusts came. 

Nasreen could feel her heart thumping in her chest.  As soon as she heard the door close behind them, she dropped to her knees on the floor, unable to catch her breath. 

"I told you to take the wine, little sister.  We all live in fear that one day we will stare into the eyes of death.  I am so sorry."  The procuress joined her on the floor and held her tightly as they both wept.  "You are too young for this burden." 

"Will he kill me?" asked Nasreen. 

"I do not know," said the procuress.  "Perhaps the young Lord Prince is simply taken with your beauty and his master wishes to provide him with a gift.  I do not pretend to know what is in the mind of the strigoi-viu.  But I do know the minds of young men when they first taste the pleasures of a woman's garden.  You have done nothing wrong, little one.  You simply exist, and that is enough for a man of the Swarm to wish power over you." 

"What should I do?" asked Nasreen.  "How can I go to the palace, even if it is to serve the Lord Prince?  I cannot give myself to him after the death of the Zora.  He was so gentle before.  But now...  I would rather the strigoi-viu killed me." 

"You shall do as the Goddess did when she was taken into captivity," said the procuress, helping Nasreen to stand.  "You shall wrap yourself in dignity and beauty and hold your heart separate from your body, preserving it only for yourself.  And you will either return safely to us, or death will release you once you have served your purpose.  You may choose your own garments, sister.  Choose that which would befit the Lady in all Her glory.  Silks to adorn your body.  Jewels to adorn your neck and wrists.  Perfumes to smell as sweet as Spring.  Even if the cursed one takes your life you will make yourself so beautiful you will live in his memory for eternity." 

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