The next morning arrived with an unexpected but welcome invitation to visit the Sun God Temple, extended personally from Arvid's Aunt. I was genuinely happy to be included as part of her companion for the day, so I readily and enthusiastically agreed without hesitation. I was specifically asked to wear red or orange—the sacred colors that traditionally represent and honor the Sun God in southern religious practice.
So Katherine, ever efficient, chose an appropriate dress for me from my wardrobe. She selected a modest one that nevertheless commanded attention—a beautiful red dress adorned extensively with intricate golden patterns done painstakingly with thread, the metallic embroidery catching light. I didn't even remember owning or packing such an elaborate dress, though it must have been included in my trousseau. Katherine was unusually silent and contemplative that particular morning, more withdrawn than her typical demeanor. She helped me dress with careful and remarkably skillful hands, her movements practiced and precise, which made me genuinely wonder how she possessed such expertise despite being raised as a spoiled Lord's daughter with servants at her constant beck and call.
"How are you so skillful at this?" I asked with genuine curiosity, unable to contain the question. "Weren't you essentially a pampered princess growing up?"
Katherine looked at me directly for a brief second, something unreadable flickering in her eyes, then deliberately looked away.
"I was deeply interested in dress making when I was young," she explained quietly. "So I learned to sew and dress up people at a young age—after all, my mother was actually a professional dress maker before she married my father. I had her influence constantly and inherited her natural talent. That's why I'm admittedly good at this particular skill." Her voice carried a hint of nostalgia.
"But you know how to cook proficiently too," I pressed, still puzzled by her diverse skill set. "That seems unusual for nobility."
"For that particular skill, you have to thank my parents' persistent paranoia," she said with a slight, bitter smile. "They desperately wanted me to be prepared and ready to face any possible situation that might come our way in life. They feared I might lose the land through war or politics, that I might be exiled or fall from grace—but even then, I could still survive independently. That's what they were determined for me to learn. And to live contentedly in simplicity if necessary. I genuinely hated my parents for making me go through all that rigorous training when my peers were learning embroidery and music," she admitted. "But see how it comes in handy now?" She asked rhetorically, her tone complex.
For the first time since taking Katherine from her family, I felt sharp, genuine guilt pierce through me. I had essentially caused her parents' absolute worst nightmare to come true, had put their beloved daughter through the trial they'd desperately prepared her for. They had somewhat deserved punishment for their betrayal, but that wasn't really the point anymore. Now that I no longer saw her merely as a maid or servant, but as a genuine friend—this guilty feeling felt awful and deeply uncomfortable, sitting heavy in my chest.
"I'm sorry," I finally managed to say sincerely, the words inadequate. "I've put you through the worst manifestation of your fears. If you truly wish to, you can return home to Ferne—" I offered genuinely, though the thought of losing her companionship pained me.
Katherine paused in her work for a long second, her hands stilling. Her eyes looked at me with startling intensity for a solid moment before she carefully resumed her task, taking my hand gently to place the jewelry. She helped me wear my rings and multiple golden bracelets with practiced care.
"If you had asked me this exact question before, even just a single day before we arrived here in Gorei, I would have said yes immediately without hesitation," she admitted honestly. Then she took my other hand to adorn it similarly with complementary jewelry.
"But now, it's far too late for that," she continued quietly. "I'll follow you and stay next to you always, serving silently and faithfully."
There was something profound and deep in her voice, something I couldn't quite fathom or understand fully. I dismissed the troubling thought as quickly as it came—it was probably nothing significant. I was likely just getting unnecessarily jittery because of the oppressive cold weather affecting my mood. I tried deliberately to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling.
"Thank you for that commitment, Katherine," I simply answered, trying to maintain civility. I was genuinely grateful for her loyalty—that much was absolutely certain and true.
She just produced a small smile in response—a distinctly sad one that didn't reach her eyes. I had a strong, instinctive feeling that I should not pursue or chase after the reason behind that melancholy expression.
---
When we finally reached the Sun God Temple after a short walk through the castle grounds, Arvid's Aunt Varsha welcomed us with open, embracing arms, smiling so brightly and warmly she seemed to embody the sun itself. The beautiful traditional Southern clothing she had wrapped herself in—bold shades of red and orange layered artfully—enhanced that radiant effect greatly.
My searching eyes immediately looked for Arvid, whom I couldn't locate anywhere. His observant Aunt clearly recognized my searching, slightly desperate gaze, and she smiled warmly with understanding.
"Arvid went early this morning to train extensively with the soldiers at the back courtyard," she explained, still holding my hand lovingly and beginning to lead me toward the temple entrance. "He's currently arranging and organizing a hunting party for tomorrow, before the approaching blizzard truly imprisons all of us in the castle for months."
"Adorable young lovers," she added softly, almost to herself. I blushed deeply red at her perceptive words, heat flooding my cheeks.
There were several worn stone steps we had to climb before entering the actual temple structure. Arvid's Aunt carefully removed her shoes before crossing the threshold, a gesture of respect I immediately followed with Katherine's helpful assistance. The floor inside was surprisingly cold against my feet, but it didn't bother me as much as I had initially thought it might. Katherine, however, was clearly reluctant to enter barefoot in the cold, and she promised firmly to wait outside until I returned from my worship.
A few more steps led us to an open patio area with dozens of bells hanging suspended overhead from carved wooden beams. Arvid's Aunt reached up and rang several of them deliberately with her hand, the clear sounds announcing her arrival formally to the God. She gestured for me to do the same, which I followed dutifully, the bells creating a pleasant harmony. Then we entered through the open ornate door into the temple proper.
As I had observed even from outside, it was actually a relatively small, intimate room. But every surface—the walls and even the curved ceiling—was covered completely in vivid paintings executed in the distinctive Southern art style. The images were circular and animated in composition rather than attempting photographic realism, depicting various scenes from religious mythology. At the far end of the room stood an impressive statue of the Sun God himself. It had been crafted masterfully in metal, with beautiful deliberate curves in the metalwork giving birth to an extraordinary divine being. He appeared to be wearing the sun itself as a crown upon his head, rays emanating outward. His carved eyes seemed to look directly at us despite being inanimate. One of his multiple arms held a drum, while others grasped what appeared to be sacred bangles.
The deity was depicted with only a ceremonial thread draped across his shoulders covering his muscular upper body, but below the waist the statue had been carved to show fabric garments covering him modestly. For some inexplicable reason, I was immediately reminded of Rulha's imposing statue back in the Mount Serana Temple in Draga.
Though of course, the Sun God wasn't Rulha, our ancestral God and protector. This deity wasn't looking down at worshippers with obvious pride and arrogance like Rulha's statue did. His expression conveyed more apathy—a distant, cosmic indifference rather than personal interest.
Throughout the small space burned countless oil lamps made of ornate metal racks, their combined flames illuminating the entire room with warm, dancing light. The lamp stands themselves looked like genuine works of art, crafted carefully from metal. They had been designed to resemble natural vines with extraordinary artistry, and each individual lamp was shaped to look like a delicate flower in full bloom.
Arvid's Aunt Varsha—as I had finally learned her name properly this morning—began the ritual by lighting a fresh lamp specifically for the Sun God with practiced movements. I helped her silently, following her lead. Then she began offering the flowers she had brought carefully with her attendant maid—yellow and orange blooms that seemed to have literally a thousand individual petals each, creating spherical shapes. An exquisite, sweet fragrance wafted powerfully from them, filling the enclosed space. I didn't recognize this particular flower variety—it certainly wasn't any northern flower I'd encountered. It must be a southern species that thrived in heat.
Then Varsha started offering incense sticks, lighting them from the lamps. The rich smells of sandalwood and jasmine rose immediately, along with some other complex fragrances I couldn't identify. It created an absolutely heavenly aromatic mixture that was almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scented smoke filled the air completely, creating a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere.
Then, to my surprise, Varsha began chanting melodiously in a language I had never heard before—an ancient Southern liturgical language, sacred and archaic. She sang the prayers with obvious deep devotion, her eyes sparkling with genuine faith and tears. The sound was hauntingly beautiful, resonating in the small space.
"Make a wish," she instructed me softly when she finally concluded the long prayer. "The God is pleased right now by our offerings, so everything you wish for he may grant generously."
She closed her eyes to make her own private wish, her lips moving silently.
I did the same, closing my eyes and pressing my palms together.
"May the Gods protect Arvid always and keep him safe," I wished fervently. "And please let us be happy together for all our days."