The Temple of Existence
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“Well, that was a complete waste of time,” Zoe commented.
Philothea just nodded. There wasn’t a single emotion she wasn’t feeling at the moment.
“Pouli, if that isn’t Katina’s friend, who is?”
“Katina’s friend has gone away,
Because he wasn’t there today.
The man in place is very bad,
He would not share the grapes he had.”
“UGH!!” Philothea squeaked. “Pouli, why don’t you just tell me where he is?”
“Because Pouli doesn’t know,” Pouli answered.
“Is that an actual straight answer?” Zoe asked.
The bird only whistled in response.
Philothea sighed. She continued on toward the temple with her shoulders slouched, feeling frustrated and hopeless. Upon reaching the colossal structure, she looked up at the words that spanned the front: The Temple of Existence
Philothea’s heart jumped a little. “Oh! I’ve heard Keeper Ruth talk about this place!” she explained. “They use the name ‘Holder’ here.”
The girls entered reverently. Philothea wasn’t worried about her giggling disturbing anyone. The temple was mostly empty, and she only giggled during worship when there were people around because she was stressed about disturbing them.
She looked around at the towering white ceiling, the sculptures, the windows, drinking everything in. This temple was somehow even more magnificent than the Temple of Creation. But in both places, she could feel the presence of her Creator enveloping her like a warm blanket.
She knelt in silence and poured everything out to Him. Her pain at being rejected by her grandfather, her frustration at wasting a day with James’ very strange family…
It occurred to Philothea that if she had told Keeper Eva about the incident with James, she probably would have said something like, “Maybe the Creator wanted to touch James’ family through you.” Keeper Eva loved cheerfully reminding the girls that there was a reason for everything. Whenever Keeper Eva did this, Keeper Ruth (less the optimist) would usually add, “Sometimes that reason is our sinfulness.”
Philothea giggled as she thought of them and prayed that they were alright. Tears began to pour down her cheeks as she laid her heart in the presence of the Holy Creator. Zoe calmly handed Philothea a handkerchief.
The former may have also been having a profound spiritual experience, but Philothea had no way of knowing. Apparently, Zoe spoke to her Creator with the same facial expression she used for everyone else.
Philothea suddenly heard soft footsteps and noticed a Temple Keeper entering by the far door. He wore a long gray robe that was similar to the ones the female Keepers wore at the Temple of Creation. Unlike the female keepers, males did not wear a veil and their robes had a slightly more square, masculine cut.
His hair, what was left of it, was a blondish gray, and he had a bushy beard of the same color. When Pouli saw him, his neck stretched out, and his head puffed up, and he cried. “Katina’s friend!”
“Hush, Pouli!” Philothea whispered instinctively. “You must not shout in here.”
Zoe was staring at the man with an eyebrow raised.
“‘His hair is the color of grapes?’” she quoted back to Pouli.
“Yellow grapes!” Pouli whistled happily.
“Yellow…do grapes even come in yellow?” Zoe questioned.
“Of course they do,” Philothea whispered. “Some of James’ grapes were yellow.”
Zoe gave her an incredulous look, but Philothea was too busy wondering how she could introduce herself to the keeper to press the matter. It turned out, she didn’t have to introduce herself, because he came to them.
“I’m Keeper Nathan,” he introduced with a warm smile. “You must be visiting. I haven’t seen you before.”
“Yes!” Philothea interjected. “We are from the Temple of Creation!”
Zoe scowled at Philothea.
Philothea ignored her. This, by Pouli’s own declaration, really was her mother’s friend, and he was a keeper also! If she couldn’t trust him, who could she trust?
“Are you?” he grinned. “Is Ruth still the head Keeper there? How is she?”
Before Philothea could make any reply, Zoe jumped in with, “Good, thanks.”
“You are a good boy,” Pouli added from his perch on Zoe’s shoulder.
Keeper Nathan looked at him curiously. “I should probably tell you we don’t normally allow pets in here,” he grinned. “But since you’re new, I’ll forgive you this time.”
“Keeper,” Philothea started. “This might sound strange, but um… do you know a man named Pouli?”
Realization lighted in the man’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped for a moment, regarding Philothea with a furrowed brow.
“Maybe,” he answered. “I… met someone by that name, but it was a long time ago…”
“He would have been a little black-haired man with dark eyes and white and silver patches on his robe, and he would have had a baby with him,” Philothea explained.
“A baby girl with light brown skin and bright blue eyes,” Nathan answered. He was studying Philothea. “She would be about fourteen now.”
Philothea bit her lip to suppress a giggle. Zoe glanced at her, a hint of warning in her eyes.
“Pouli tried to leave her with us,” Nathan explained. “He was a very odd little fellow, didn’t seem to understand why an order of men couldn’t take a little girl. I finally convinced him to go to the Keepers at the Temple of Creation.”
“You will take the baby,” Pouli sang from Zoe’s shoulder. “Keepers take the baby, you are a Keeper. Keepers are friends of Katina!”
Nathan snapped his attention to Pouli. “He said that…exactly.”
Philothea chomped down on her lower lip as Keeper Nathan regarded each member of the little party curiously.
“Come with me,” Nathan whispered. “Quickly.”
Coming May 21st!
Seven missing fiancées.
One overprotective handmaiden.
Countless red flags.
Scoundrel or Scallywag is a Bluebeard novella set in the world of the Fairy Tale Royals. It has the heart of a romance, the soul of a comedy, and a heroine who rations her eye-rolls like a queen rations gold. Perfect for fans of The Princess Bride, Howl’s Moving Castle, and anyone who’s ever fallen for exactly the wrong person — or watched a friend do it and screamed into the void.
When the Allysian princess falls head over heels for a brooding, socially catastrophic sea captain with a mysterious blue beard and seven broken engagements — her handmaiden Lia does what any loyal servant would do: she grabs a hairpin, storms into the roughest sailor tavern in the kingdom, and launches a one-woman investigation.
Meanwhile, the noble and hopelessly awkward Lord Tyrell can’t string two words together around the princess, whom he’s worshiped from afar since childhood. But when he’s recruited into Lia’s chaotic crusade to save the princess from a man who may or may not dispose of his fiancées, he discovers that the sharp-tongued, eye-rolling, knife-wielding handmaiden might be the real adventure he’s been looking for.
What follows is a madcap romp through royal balls and stormy lighthouses that will keep you laughing while also melting your heart.
The Fables of Para Sympan 