23. Anastasia's Finest Hour

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I stared at Anastasia as she glided through the parting crowd to the crone's carpet. The saree wrapped her figure like a sail pregnant with wind. For a moment I thought maybe she was pregnant, something that would increase her status in the eyes of the assembly, but no. The swell of her breasts and stomach didn't change. It was just self-importance that inflated her.

My friend, bah! She was never my friend, and that was precisely it! Kozima was so brazen yesterday, because he found a genius approach. I would have thought the poor man had nothing to bargain with, yet he dangled an irresistible bait before her. She'd do anything, go to any lengths to prevent me from returning to the Temple. Well played, Kozima!

I caught his adoring glance. He looked so pure, so devoted, that I sucked my teeth in worry.

Merciful Gala, I hoped he didn't confess to spur her into action. A fallen man might be attractive to her sensitivities right now, but she might make him pay later. What did you do, Kozima? What did you do?

Anastasia brought with her a tall, burly woman. The uniform introduced her as a valiant member of our Watch.

"I questioned every Watchwoman who stood guard on the gates yesterday and this morning," Anastasia started in a ringing voice. "I brought Gala's lantern with me."

Unlike Ashanti, the incense Gala's temple used didn't steal people's minds or give them visions. However, it had an undeniable effect on the senses. It sharpened them for a short while. The worshippers were overtaken by elation from inhaling it while they prayed. They became less restricted when confessing their sins and more charitable afterwards. If they woke up next morning with a bit of a headache and parched, so what? Healing a hurting soul was worth it.

The guard didn't require much convincing. I imagined that when Anastasia's comforting bosom sailed in, the incense might have been an overkill. The guard was warmed up to unburden the sin weighing heavily on her soul. She--the guard, not Anastasia--didn't lift her gaze from the carpet she was made to stand on, and surreptitiously rubbed her sandals against the back of her loose cotton pants. She was a picture of repentance.

"Tell Her Eminence and Her Maxima and these wise women what happened at dawn," Anastasia prompted gently.

The guard's shoulders slumped like she was the one on trial, not I. "A noblewoman from the Far South and her escort came to the gatepost I'm in charge of. She looked gravely ill.

"And, it's hazy in my mind, please forgive me my failings! My two fellows... I don't know what came over them. I can't describe it properly. They stood in one spot as if they lost consciousness. But they didn't collapse. Just stand there, glassy-eyed and mute."

The guard shifted from foot to foot. It was obvious she was afraid to look up and see if they believed her, but wanted to.

"Go on," Anastasia asked.

"I refused to let the noblewoman out, of course." She signed so heavily, I thought her exhale would ripple the banners in the hands of the Deadhead's Company's standard bearer. "I was about to sound an alarm and place those two suspicious strangers under arrest."

She finally swept the gathering with a wide, wild gaze. "I swear! Then the noblewoman's escort leaned to me and whispered into my ear..."

The tears of repentance rolling down her cheeks. "He... he was... I'm not to blame! He had some sorcery in the way he spoke and moved. So beautiful... the most beautiful man in the world!"

The words pierced my heart. Parneres, she could only have meant Parneres. Instead of taking his freedom and running, he delivered his cousin, after I all but killed her! He must have spirited her away from the courtyard, brought her back from the brink of death by some forbidden magic or potent medicine scorpia used. Then he used his charm on the guard to flee the city... with his cruel mistress.

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