"I still don't know why you made that promise, Ellie," Lauriana chided. "You knew how busy we were going to be today.”

"I knew," Ellie agreed. "But I suspected I'd need a break after dealing with the queen's craftsmasters. And I was right”

Four unpleasant bells in the company of haughty dressmakers, cobblers, and clothiers had left Ellie aching to leap into the nearest hermit hole. Who knew wealthy people spent so much time in pursuit of the perfect outfit, or that there were so many decisions to be made for so simple a task? Until today, Ellie had never realized that the number of buttons on a lady's boot held some particular social significance. Gods! What utter madness! Not to mention the fact that each and every one of the merchants had sniffed at her common appearance and made it clear they served her only because the queen had commanded them. The worst was Maestra Binchi, the queen's dressmaker, who had sized her up in one cold, calculating glance, sneered, and muttered something about silk purses and sowlet ears.

Lauriana shook her head. "You shouldn't have let them bother you, Ellie. They may be masters of their own crafts, and serving by appointment of the king or queen, but so is your father now. They're no better than you or I, even if they do have a bit more gold in their pockets. In fact—though I still think your father made a dreadful mistake—you're the betrothed of a king now. They should be thanking the gods for the opportunity to serve you”

Ellie didn't answer. Mama was very good at ignoring the opinions of others when it suited her. Ellie wasn't so lucky. She'd felt the dislike of those merchants crawling over her skin until she'd wanted to cry out that she had no more choice about being there than they did. Ahead, the road curved to the right, and Celieria's Grand Cathedral of Light came into view. Built entirely of gleaming, hand-carved white marble and gold leaf, the Grand Cathedral stood testament to both the glory of the Bright Lord and the mastery of ancient Celierian, Fey, and Elvian artisans. Situated on the small Isle of Grace in the middle of the Velpin River, it rose up from the clear blue depths of the river like a palace of white clouds and sunbeams. Four gilded, sun-bright bridges radiated from the four corners of the island, connecting the holy site to the more mundane streets of the city.

Thirteen spires adorned the cathedral's golden roof, one for each of the major gods. The largest of the spires rose up on six marble columns from the top of the central dome. An enormous statue of Adelis, Lord of Light, stood in the center of those columns, arms upraised, holding aloft a golden crystal globe that blazed an eternal beacon.

Every time Ellie saw the cathedral, it both awed and frightened her. Even now, as she crossed the golden northeast bridge and climbed the thirteen steps leading up to the cathedral's Grand Entrance, her stomach roiled and her palms went clammy. She loved the Bright Lord, but his priests would forever be tied in her memory with the terror of her childhood exorcism.

Father Celinor, the priest from her family's West End church, was waiting in the covered portico just outside the cathedral doors. A young man with bright blue eyes and sandy hair that always seemed mussed, Father Celinor was the first cleric who'd ever managed to get past Ellie's terror of priests after her childhood exorcism.

"Madam Baristani." He held out his hands and exchanged the kiss of peace with Ellie's mother, then turned to her, smiling with genuine affection and welcome. "And Ellysetta." His fingers squeezed hers. "I never dreamed the Most High had such plans in store for you. This is your opportunity to share the Word of Light with those who have not heard its call." Ellie gave a small laugh. "Let me find peace in my new life first, Father. But you may take comfort that the Fey already do follow the Bright Path.”

"Of course" He patted her hand and smiled. "Come meet the Archbishop." He glanced at the Fey warriors. "I'm afraid canon law forbids you from entering the cathedral bearing arms. You must leave your blades at the door. There is a room there to the left where you may check them with Brother Vericel before entering.”

"Fey protecting a shei'tani do not shed their steel," Bel replied.

"Then you must remain here, outside the sanctuary. Not even the King himself may carry weapons across this threshold. The Cathedral is a holy place, a haven of peace.”

Bel exchanged a glance with the rest of Ellie's quintet. Without another word, all five removed their Fey'cha belts, the curved meicha at their waists, and the twin seyani swords strapped across their backs. They handed the weapons to their Fey brethren. Bel gestured, and all but Ellysetta's quintet and five other Fey fanned out to surround the cathedral.

"We will observe your custom," he conceded, "but no one will be permitted to enter or leave this building or island so long as the Feyreisa remains within.”

Father Celinor's jaw went lax. He hurried to the top of the steps and gaped at the sight of Fey weaving magical barriers at the bridges. "You can't block access to the Isle of Grace! This is the Grand Cathedral of Light, a haven to all.”

"So long as Celierian custom dictates that Fey steel must remain outside the cathedral while the Feyreisa stands within, Fey custom dictates that all haven-seekers will have to wait until she departs." Bel held the priest's shocked gaze without wavering. "As we honor your customs, you shall honor ours.”

"I'm sorry, Father," Lauriana apologized in an aggrieved tone. "There is no reasoning with them when it comes to Ellie and what they perceive as ensuring her safety. I've concluded it's best to just humor their requests and ignore them as much as possible." She glowered at Bel.