Hanging beside it was the only color in my wardrobe, a splash of red among a sea of white. It was a ceremonial gown tailored for the upcoming Rite. The dress had arrived the morning before, and I hadn’t tried it on yet. It would be the first time I was allowed to attend—allowed to wear anything other than white and be seen without the veil. Of course, I would be masked, like everyone else.

The only reason I was allowed to attend this Rite when all the others had been forbidden, was because it would be the last Rite before my Ascension.

Whatever excitement I felt about the Rite was tempered by the fact that it would be the last.

Tawny rose and drifted to one of the windows. “The mist hasn’t come in a while.”

Tawny had a habit of jumping from topic to topic, but this switch was jarring. “What made you think of that?”

“I don’t know.” She tucked back a loose curl. “Actually, I do. I overheard Dafina and Loren talking last night,” she said. “They claimed they heard from one of the Huntsmen that the mist has been gathering beyond the Blood Forest.”

“I hadn’t heard that.” My stomach knotted as I remembered Finley, and I wished I hadn’t eaten so many slices of bacon.

“I probably shouldn’t have brought it up.” She turned from the window. “It’s just that…it has been decades since the mist even neared the capital. It’s not something we’d have to worry about there.”

No matter where we were, the mist was something to worry about. Just because it hadn’t gotten close in decades didn’t mean it wouldn’t, but I didn’t say that.

She pushed away from the window, coming back to the table to kneel next to where I sat. “Can I be honest with you for a moment?”

My brows rose. “Aren’t you always?”

“Well, yes, but this…is different.”

More than curious to know what she was thinking about, I nodded for her to go on.

Tawny drew in a deep breath. “I know our lives are different, as were our pasts, and as our futures will be, but you treat the Ascension as if it may very well be your death when it’s the exact opposite. It’s life. It’s a new beginning. It is a Blessing—”

“You’re starting to sound like the Duchess,” I teased.

“But it’s the truth.” She reached over and clasped my hand. “In a few months, you won’t be dead, Poppy. You’ll be alive and no longer bound by these rules. You’ll be in the capital.”

“I’ll have been given to the gods,” I corrected her.

“And how amazing is that? You will experience something very few people do. I know… I know you fear that you won’t return from them, but you’re the Queen’s favorite Maiden.”

“I’m her only Maiden.”

Her eyes rolled. “You know that’s not why.”

I did.

The Queen had done more for me than what was ever required of her, but that didn’t change that my Ascension would be nothing like hers.

“And when you come back, Ascended, I will be right by your side. Just think of the mischief we can make.” Tawny squeezed my hand, and I saw that she truly believed that would happen.

It could.

But it wasn’t a certainty. I had no idea what it truly meant to be given to the gods. Although every small detail seemed to be documented about the history of the kingdom, there were a few things that weren’t written about. I’d never been able to find anything about previous Maidens, and I’d asked Priestess Analia over a hundred times what it meant to be given to the gods, and the answer was always the same.

A Maiden doesn’t question the gods’ plans. She has faith in them without knowledge of them.

Maybe I truly wasn’t worthy of being a Maiden, because I found it hard to have faith in anything without knowledge of it.

But Tawny did. As did Vikter and Rylan, and literally everyone else I knew. Even Ian.

None of them had been given to the gods, though.

I searched Tawny’s eyes, looking for just the slightest hint of fear. “You’re not afraid at all, are you?”

“Of the Ascension?” She rose, locking her fingers together in front of her. “Nervous? Yes. Afraid? No. I’m excited to begin a new chapter.”

To begin a life that was her own, where she could wake up and eat whenever she pleased, spend her days however she wanted, and with whomever she desired instead of being my perpetual shadow.

Of course, she wasn’t afraid. And while I didn’t feel the same, I had not once taken into consideration what it meant for her.

For the most part, Tawny was always more than willing to take part in whatever adventure I conjured up, and often suggested some herself. But if the gods were watching, especially this close to the Ascension, they could find her unworthy for taking part. That wasn’t something I’d just now thought about, but it hadn’t struck me with such clarity before that my attitude towards the Ascension could ruin her eagerness.

Guilt surfaced, the taste of it sour in the back of my throat. “I’m so selfish.”

Tawny blinked, bewildered. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve most likely tarnished your excitement with all my doom and gloom,” I told her. “I haven’t really thought about how excited you must be.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” she said and then laughed, the sound soft and warm. “Honestly, Poppy, you haven’t. How you feel about the Ascension hasn’t affected how I feel.”

“I’m relieved to hear that, but still, I should be more excited for you. That’s what…”—I took a thin breath—“that’s what friends do.”

“Have you been excited for me? Happy?” she asked. “Even though you’re worried for yourself?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Then you have done what a friend does.”

Maybe that was true, but I promised myself I would be better, starting with no longer risking her Ascension by involving her in my escapades. I could live with the dire consequences of being found unworthy because it would be my life and my own actions that led to it, but I wouldn’t do that to Tawny.

I couldn’t live with that.

After I took supper in my room later that day, Vikter knocked on my door. When I looked up at his face, golden and weathered by life on the Rise and years in the sun, I didn’t think about knowing where he was the night before and the subsequent awkwardness. I saw his expression and knew something had occurred.