We left Agnes in the bedroom, her husband’s limp hand pressed to her chest as she carefully brushed his hair back from his face.
It was an image I wouldn’t forget for a very long time.
But I couldn’t dwell on it then. I’d learned from Vikter that there was a daughter, but luckily, she was staying with friends, having been told that her father was ill. Vikter saw no reason to not believe Agnes. I was relieved to know that my worst fear hadn’t come true. That the child hadn’t also been cursed. Once someone had been cursed, a bite from them would pass on the curse, and even though Marlowe hadn’t fully turned, he would’ve been prone to uncontrollable rages and thirst from the moment he’d been bitten.
But now I stood outside another tiny home, in the shadows of the narrow, dirt-packed alley, listening to another tragedy. The moment I’d shared with Vikter what Marlowe had told me, we’d gone straight for the father’s house since it was closer than the dorms. I was beyond glad I couldn’t see the man because I could hear the heartbreak in his voice as he told Vikter what had happened, and the ache in my head was now throbbing. If I saw the poor father, I would’ve wanted to somehow ease his pain. The old man knew precisely why Vikter was there when he asked if he’d seen his son.
Ridley hadn’t been able to take care of himself. However, his father had.
He’d shown Vikter where he’d buried Ridley in the backyard, under a pear tree. He’d ended his son’s life the day before.
I was still thinking about that as Vikter and I left the Lower Ward, using the heavily wooded area outside the Citadel to avoid any City Guards. Many years ago, animals such as deer and wild boar had been plentiful in Wisher’s Grove, but only the smallest critters and large, predatory birds remained after years of hunting. The Grove now served more or less as a border between the haves and have-nots, the thick tree line all but erasing
the cramped living arrangements for the vast majority of Masadonia from those who lived in homes triple the size of the one Agnes now mourned in. A part of the Grove, closer to the center of the city, had been cleared, creating a park where fairs and celebrations were held, people often rode their horses, sold goods, and picnicked on warmer days. The Grove ran right into the inner walls of Castle Teerman. Literally.
Very few traveled the Grove, believing it to be haunted by any who’d died there. Or were they haunted by the spirits of guards? Or was it the spirits of hunted animals that roamed between the trees? I wasn’t sure. There were so many different versions. Either way, it worked for us because we could easily slip out of the Queen’s Gardens and into the Grove without being seen as long as we kept an eye on the patrolling guards. From the Grove, one could go anywhere.
“We need to discuss what happened in that house,” Vikter announced as we navigated the forest floor with only a sliver of moonlight to guide us. “People have been talking about you.”
I knew this was coming.
“And you using your gift back there didn’t help matters,” he added, keeping his voice low even though it was unlikely we’d be overheard by anything other than a raccoon or an opossum. “You all but confirmed who you were.”
“If people are talking, they haven’t said anything,” I replied. “And I had to do something. That woman’s pain was…it was unbearable for her. She needed a break.”
“And it became unbearable for you, too?” he surmised. When I didn’t say anything, he added, “Your head hurts now?”
“It’s nothing,” I dismissed.
“Nothing,” he growled. “I understand why you want to help. I respect that. But it’s a risk, Poppy. No one has said anything yet. Maybe they feel indebted to you, but that could change, and you need to be more careful.”
“I am careful,” I said. Even though I couldn’t see his expression as he too had lifted his hood to cover his face, I knew he sent me a look of disbelief. I grinned, but it quickly faded. “I know what the risks are—”
“And you’re prepared to face the consequences if the Duke ever discovers what you’re doing?” he challenged.
My stomach dipped as I toyed with a loose thread from my cloak. “I
am.”
Vikter cursed under his breath. In any other situation, I would’ve giggled. “You’re as brave as any guard on the Rise.”
Taking that as a huge compliment, I smiled. “Well, thank you.” “And just as foolish as any new recruit.”
My smile turned upside down. “I take my thank you back.”
“I never should’ve allowed you to begin doing this.” He caught a low- hanging branch, moving it aside. “You going out among the people poses too much of a risk of discovery.”
Dipping under the branch, I looked back at him. “You didn’t allow me,” I reminded him. “You just couldn’t stop me.”
He stopped, catching my arm and turning me so I faced him. “I understand why you want to help. You couldn’t when your mother and father lay dying.”
I flinched. “It has nothing to do with them.”
“That’s not true, and you know it. You’re trying to make up for what you were unable to do as a child.” His voice dropped so low, I could barely hear him over the breeze stirring the leaves above us. “But it’s more than that.”
“And what is that?”
“I think you want to be caught.”
“What? You really think that?” I took a step back, pulling free of his hold. “You know what the Duke would do if he ever found out.”
“Trust me, I know. It’s not likely I’ll forget any of those times I had to help you walk back to your room.” His voice hardened, and heat blasted my cheeks.
I hated that.
Hated the way I felt for something someone had done to me.
Absolutely hated the heavy shame that threatened to choke me.
“You take too many risks, Poppy, even knowing it’s not just the Duke or even the Queen you’d have to answer to,” he continued. “Sometimes, I wonder if you want to be found unworthy.”
Irritation flared to life, and there was a part of me that recognized it was because Vikter was scraping at old wounds and getting too close to a hidden truth I didn’t want to delve into and uncover. “Whether I’m caught or not, wouldn’t the gods already know what I do? There would be no reason for me to take additional risks when nothing is hidden from them.”
“There is no reason for you to take any risks at all.”
“Then why have you spent the last five or so years training me?” I demanded.
“Because I know why you need to feel like you can defend yourself,” he shot back. “After what you suffered, what you have to live with, I can understand the need to take your protection into your own hands. But if I had known that it would lead to you putting yourself in situations where you risked exposure, I never would’ve trained you.”
“Well, it’s too late for that change of heart.”
“That it is.” He sighed. “And way to avoid what I just said.” “Avoid what?” I asked, pretending ignorance.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Shaking my head, I turned and started walking. “I don’t help those people because I want the gods to find me unworthy. I didn’t help Agnes because I hoped she would tell someone, and it would get out. I help them because it’s already a tragedy that doesn’t need to be compounded upon by being forced to watch their loved ones be burned to death.” I stepped over a fallen tree limb, my headache worsening. However, it had nothing to do with my gift and everything to do with the conversation. “Sorry to ruin your theory, but I’m not a sadist.”
“No,” he said from behind me. “You’re not. You’re just afraid.” Whipping around, I gaped at him. “Afraid?”
“Of your Ascension. Yes. You’re afraid. There’s no shame in admitting that.” He came forward, stopping in front of me. “At least, not to me.”
But to others, like my guardians or the Priests, it wouldn’t be something I could ever admit. They would see that fear as being sacrilegious, as if the only reason I’d have to be afraid would be due to something horrible and not the fact I had no idea what would happen to me upon my Ascension.
If I were to live. Or die.
I closed my eyes.
“I understand,” Vikter repeated. “You have no idea what will happen. I get it. I do, but Poppy, whether you take these unnecessary risks on purpose or not, regardless of if you’re afraid or not, the end result will not change. All you will do is incur the Duke’s wrath. That is all.”
I opened my eyes and saw nothing but darkness.
“Because no matter what you do, you’re not going to be found unworthy,” Vikter said. “You will Ascend.”
 |
Vikter’s words kept me up for most of the night, and I ended up skipping our normal morning training session held in one of the old rooms in the all- but-abandoned part of the castle. Unsurprisingly, Vikter hadn’t knocked on the old servants’ door.
If that wasn’t evidence enough of how well he knew me, I didn’t know what would be.
I wasn’t mad at him. Honestly, I could be annoyed and irritated with him every other day, but I was never mad at him. I didn’t think he felt that I was. He just…he’d hit a raw nerve last night, and he was aware of that.
I was afraid of my Ascension. I knew that. Vikter knew that. Who wouldn’t be? Although Tawny believed that I would return as an Ascended, no one could be sure. Ian wasn’t like me. There’d been no rules imposed on him when we’d been in the capital or while we grew up here. He’d Ascended because he was the brother of the Maiden, the Chosen, and because the Queen had petitioned for the exception.
So, yes, I was afraid.
But was I purposely pushing the envelope and happy-dancing over the line in hopes of being found unworthy and stripped of my status?
That was…that would be incredibly irrational. I could be quite irrational.
Like when I saw a spider, I behaved as if it were the size of a horse with the cold calculation of an assassin. That was irrational. But being found unworthy meant exile, and that was also a death sentence. If I were afraid of dying upon Ascension, then getting myself exiled didn’t exactly improve the situation.
And I was afraid of dying, but my wariness of the Ascension was more than that.
It wasn’t my choice.
I had been born into this, in the same way that all the second sons and daughters were. Even though none of them seemed to dread their future, it
wasn’t their choice either.
I hadn’t been lying or trying to cover up a hidden agenda when I helped Agnes or exposed myself to Marlowe. I did that because I could— because it was my choice. I trained to use a sword and bow because it was my choice. But was there another motive behind sneaking off to watch fights or swimming naked? Visiting gambling dens or lurking in parts of the castle forbidden to me and listening in on conversations that I wasn’t supposed to hear? Or when I left my chambers without Vikter or Rylan just so I could spy on the balls held in the Great Hall and people-watch in Wisher’s Grove? What about the Red Pearl? Letting Hawke kiss me? Touch me? All of those things that I’d done, I did because they were my choice, but…
But could it also be what Vikter had suggested?
What if, deep down, I wasn’t just trying to live and experience everything I could before my Ascension? What if I was, on some kind of unconscious level, trying to ensure that the Ascension never happened?
These thoughts troubled me throughout the day, and for once, I wasn’t all that restless in my confinement. At least not until the sun began to set. Having dismissed Tawny hours before supper since there was no reason for her to sit around while I did nothing but morosely stare out the windows, I finally got annoyed with myself and yanked open the door.
Only to find Rylan lounging across the hall. I drew up short.
“Going somewhere, Pen?” he asked.
Pen.
Rylan was the only one who called me that. I liked it. I let go of the door, and it slowly inched back, bumping my shoulder. “I don’t know.”
He grinned at me as he ran a hand over his light brown hair. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
Glancing behind me to the windows, I saw that it was dusk. Surprise flickered through me. I’d wasted an entire day in self-reflection.
Priestess Analia would be thrilled to hear that, but not the reasons.
Either way, I wanted to punch myself in the face.
But it was time. I nodded and started to step out—
“I think you’re forgetting something,” he said, tapping a finger on his bearded cheek.
My veil.
Good gods, I’d almost walked out into the hall without it or a hood. Other than my guardians—the Duke and Duchess—and Tawny, only Vikter and Rylan were allowed to see me without my veil. Well, the Queen and King could, and Ian was permitted, but obviously, they weren’t here. If anyone else had been in the hall, they would’ve possibly fallen over in a dead faint.
“I’ll be right back!”
His grin increased as I whipped around and hurried back into the room, slipping the veil over my head. It took a little more than a couple of minutes to clasp all the little chains so it was secured in place. Tawny was so much faster at it than I was.
I started back out—
“Shoes, Pen. You should put some shoes on.”
Looking down at myself, I let out a very unladylike groan. “Gods! One moment.”
Rylan chuckled.
Totally scatterbrained, I toed on my well-worn shoes, which were nothing more than satin and a thin leather sole, and then reopened the door.
“Having a bad day?” Rylan mused as he joined me in my room. “Having a weird day,” I countered, heading for the old servants’
access. “A forgetful one.”
“It must be for you to not realize the time.”
Rylan was right. Unless something was going on, both he and Vikter were always ready for me just before dusk.
Our pace was quick as we hurried down the narrow, dusty staircase. It emptied out into an area beside the kitchen, and while we took the old access to avoid being seen as much as possible, it wasn’t completely avoidable. Kitchen servants stopped mid-step as Rylan and I passed them, their brown garb and white caps making them nearly indistinguishable from one another. I heard a basket of potatoes hit the floor and the harsh, biting reprimand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw blurred faces bow their heads as if they were praying.
I swallowed a groan while Rylan did what he always did and pretended that there was nothing off about their behavior.
You’re the child of the gods.
Agnes’s words came back to me. The only reason they thought that was because of the veil and the paintings and various artworks representing
the Maiden.
That and how often it was that they didn’t see me.
We started toward the banquet hall. From there, we could enter the foyer and be able to access the Queen’s Garden. There’d be more servants, but there really wasn’t any other way to access it from within the castle that didn’t require scaling a wall. We made it halfway past the long table when one of the many doors on either side opened behind us.
“Maiden.”
A wave of goosebumps spread over my skin in revulsion. I recognized that voice, and I wanted to keep walking—to pretend I’d suddenly lost my hearing.
But Rylan had stopped.
If I kept walking, it wouldn’t end well for me.
Inhaling deeply, I turned to face Lord Brandole Mazeen. I didn’t see what I was sure most saw, a dark-haired man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, handsome and tall. I saw a bully.
I saw a cruel man who had long ago forgotten what it was like to be mortal.
Unlike with the Duke, who seemed to despise me without cause, I knew precisely why Lord Mazeen found such glee in harassing me.
Ian.
And it all stemmed from the vainest, most inconsequential thing possible. A year before my brother Ascended, he’d bested Lord Mazeen at a game of cards, to which the Lord had ungraciously accused Ian of cheating. I, who probably shouldn’t have even been present for the game, had laughed. Mainly because the Lord was utterly terrible at poker. From that moment on, the Lord had sought to irritate both Ian and me whenever he got the chance. It only got worse once Ian Ascended, and the Lord began to…assist the Duke with his lessons.
Clasping my hands together, I said nothing as he strode toward me, his long legs encased in black breeches. He wore a black dress shirt, and the darkness of his clothing created a striking contrast against his pale skin and lips the color of ripe berries. His eyes…
I didn’t like to look into them. They seemed fathomless and empty.
Like all Ascended, they were such a dark black that the pupils weren’t visible. I wondered what his eye color had been before he Ascended or if he even remembered. The Lord may only appear to be in his second decade of
life, but I knew he’d Ascended after the War of Two Kings, along with the Duke and Duchess. He was hundreds of years old.
Lord Mazeen gave a tight, close-lipped smile when I didn’t respond. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“She’s taking her evening walk,” Rylan replied, tone flat. “As she is allowed.”
Eyes like shards of obsidian narrowed on the guard. “I didn’t ask the question of you.”
“I’m taking my walk,” I stepped in, answering before Rylan said another word.
That unnerving, fathomless gaze shifted to me. “You’re going to the garden?” One side of his lips quirked when surprise flickered through me. “Isn’t that where you always go at this time of day?”
I did.
And it was more than a little disconcerting that the Lord was aware of
that.
I nodded.
“She must be on her way now,” Rylan interjected. “As you know, the
Maiden must not linger.”
In other words, I wasn’t allowed to interact, not even with the Ascended. The Lord knew that.
But he disregarded it. “The Maiden also must be respectful. I wish to speak with her, and I’m sure the Duke would be most disappointed to learn that she was unwilling to do so.”
My spine straightened as a wave of anger swept through me so swiftly, I almost reached for the dagger strapped to my thigh. The reaction shocked me in a way. What would I have done with it if I hadn’t stopped? Stabbed him? I almost laughed.
But none of this was funny.
His thinly veiled threat of speaking to the Duke had been effective. The Lord had backed both Rylan and me into a corner because even though I was not supposed to interact, the Duke didn’t hold Lord Mazeen to the same rules as others. If I walked away, I would be punished. So would Rylan. And while my punishment wasn’t something to take lightly, it would be nothing compared to what Rylan would face.
He could be removed from the Royal Guard, and the Duke would ensure that it was known that he had fallen out of the Duke’s favor. Rylan
would soon be unemployed and therefore dishonored. It wouldn’t be the same as being exiled, but his life would become measurably more difficult.
I squared my shoulders. “I would love nothing more than to speak with you.”
A look of smugness settled on his handsome features, and I wanted nothing more than to kick him in the face. “Come.” He reached out, curling his arm over my shoulders. “I wish to speak in private.”
Rylan stepped forward—
“It’s okay,” I told him, although it really wasn’t. Looking over at him, I willed him to listen. “Truly, it is fine.”
Rylan’s jaw hardened as he stared at the Lord, and I could tell he wasn’t remotely happy about this, but he nodded curtly. “I’ll be right here.”
“Yes, you will,” the Lord replied.
Gods.
Not all Ascended were like the Lord, who wielded his power and station like a poison-tipped sword, but Lord Mazeen wasn’t even the worst example.
He steered me to the left, nearly causing a servant to drop the basket she carried. He seemed completely unaware of her as he strode forward. Whatever hope I had that he planned to speak to me a few steps away ended quickly as he took us into one of the shadowy alcoves between the doors.
I should’ve known.
He swept aside thick, white curtains and all but pulled me into the narrow space where the only source of light was a small sconce above a thickly cushioned chaise. I had no idea what the purpose of these half- hidden rooms was, but on more than one occasion, I’d found myself trapped in them.
I stepped back, a little surprised that the Lord allowed it. He watched me, the smirk returning as I positioned myself so I was close to one of the curtains. He sat on the chaise, stretching out his legs as he folded his arms across his chest.
Heart thumping, I chose my words carefully. “I really cannot linger. If someone were to see me, I would be in trouble with Priestess Analia.”
“And what would happen if the good Priestess of the Temples were to hear you were lingering?” he asked, his body appearing loose and relaxed, but I knew better.
Appearances could be deceiving. The Ascended were fast when they wanted to be. I’d seen them move in a manner that made them nothing more than a blur.
“Would she report such misbehavior to the Duke?” he continued. “I do so enjoy his lessons.”
Disgust was a weed taking root inside me. Of course, he enjoyed the Duke’s lessons. “I’m not sure what she would do.”
“It might be worth discovering,” he mused idly. “At least, for me.”
My fingers curled inward. “I don’t wish to displease the Duke or the Priestess.”
His lashes lowered. “I’m sure you would not.”
A sharp, stinging pain radiated out from where my nails dug into my palms. “What is it that you wish to speak to me about?”
“You didn’t ask your question appropriately.”
Searching for restraint and calm, I was grateful for the veil. If he could see my face in its entirety, he’d know exactly what I was feeling.
Which was red-hot, burning hatred.
I didn’t know why the Lord found such great entertainment in harassing me. Why he found such enjoyment in making me uncomfortable, but he’d been this way the last several years. He was worse toward the servants, though. I’d heard the whispered warnings to new staff. Avoid gaining his attention or his displeasure. No matter what, there was a limit to how far he could go with me. With the servants, I didn’t believe he felt there was even a line to cross.
I lifted my chin. “What would you like to discuss with me, Lord
Mazeen?”
A hint of a cold smile appeared. “I realized it had been a while since I last saw you.”
It had been sixteen days since he’d last cornered me. So, not long enough.
“I’ve missed you,” he added. Doubtful.
“My Lord, I must be on my way—” I sucked in a sharp breath as he rose. One second, he was stretched out on the chaise. The next, he was directly in front of me.
“I’m insulted,” he said. “I told you I missed you, and your only response was to say you must leave? You wound me.”
The fact that he’d said nearly the same words Hawke had uttered no more than two nights ago didn’t go unnoticed. Neither did the vastly different reactions I had to them. While Hawke had come across teasing, Lord Mazeen spoke the words as a warning. I wasn’t charmed. I was revolted.
“It wasn’t my intention,” I forced out.
“You sure?” he asked, and I felt his finger against my jaw before I even saw him move his hand. “I have the distinct impression that was exactly your intent.”
“It wasn’t.” I leaned back—
He curled his fingers around my chin, holding my head in place. When I took my next breath, I thought his fingers smelled like…a flower, musky and sweet. “You should try to be more convincing if you wish me to believe that.”
“I’m sorry if I’m not as convincing as I should be.” It took great effort to keep my voice steady. “You shouldn’t be touching me.”
He smirked as he trailed his cool thumb along my lower lip. The sensation of thousands of tiny insects skittering over my skin followed. “And why is that?”
The Lord knew exactly why.
“I’m the Maiden,” I said, nonetheless.
“That you are.” He trailed his fingers down my chin over the scratchy lace that covered my throat. His hand continued, brushing over my collarbone.
My palm practically burned with the need to feel the hilt of the dagger against it, and my muscles tensed with the knowledge and skill to react—to make him stop. A tremor coursed through me as I fought the desire to fight back. It wouldn’t be worth what would happen. I kept telling myself that as his fingers slid down the center of my gown. It wasn’t just the fear of punishment. If I showed what I was capable of, the Duke would learn that I had been trained, and I doubted it would take any large leap of logic to determine that Vikter was responsible. Yet again, whatever I faced would be nothing compared to what Vikter would.
But I could only tolerate so much.
I took a step back, putting distance between us.
Lord Mazeen tilted his head and then chuckled softly. Instinct sparked, and I moved to step out from the curtain, but I hadn’t been fast enough. He
caught me by the hip and turned me. There wasn’t even a second to react as his arm clamped around my waist, and he hauled me back against him. His other hand remained where it was, between my breasts. The contact of his body against mine, the feel of it, sent a wave of revulsion through me.
“Do you remember your last lesson?” His breath was icy against my skin just below the veil. “I can’t imagine you’ve forgotten.”
I hadn’t forgotten a single one.
“You didn’t make a sound, and I know it had to hurt.” His grip tightened on my waist, and even in my all-too-limited knowledge of things, I knew what I felt against me. “Admittedly, you’ve impressed.”
“Thrilled to hear that,” I gritted out.
“Ah, there it is,” he murmured. “There’s that tone unbecoming of the Maiden. The very same one that has gotten you into trouble a time or two— or a dozen. I was wondering when it would make an appearance. I’m sure you also remember what happened the last time it came out.”
Of course, I remembered that, too.
My temper had gotten the best of me. I’d snapped back at the Duke, and he’d struck me hard enough that I’d lost consciousness. I came to, only to feel like I’d been run over by a horse and finding the Duke and the Lord sprawled out on the settee, both appearing to have drunk a bottle’s worth of whiskey while I lay on the floor. For days, I’d felt like I’d come down with the flu. I imagine I had a bit of a concussion.
Still, seeing the shock widen the Duke’s otherwise emotionless gaze had been worth it.
“Perhaps I will go to the Duke myself,” he mused. “Tell him how disrespectful you’ve been.”
Fury boiled my blood as I stared at the gray stones of the wall. “Let me go, Lord Mazeen.”
“You didn’t ask nicely enough.” His hips pressed against me, and my skin flushed with rage. “You didn’t say please.”
There would be no way I’d say please. Consequences be damned, I’d had enough. I was not his toy. I was the Maiden, and while he was incredibly faster and stronger, I knew I could hurt him. I had the element of surprise on my side, and my legs were free. I widened my stance as I felt something damp and wet against my jaw—
A scream tore through the alcove, startling the Lord enough that he loosened his hold. I tore free and spun to face him, my chest heaving as I
slipped my hand through the slit in my gown, to the hilt of the dagger.
The Lord muttered something under his breath as the screams came again, high-pitched, and full of terror.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I darted out from behind the curtain instead of unsheathing the dagger and slicing off what I was sure was the Lord’s most prized possession.
The Lord threw aside the curtains as he stormed out, but the screams were bringing others rushing into the banquet hall. Servants. Royal Guards. There was nothing more Lord Mazeen could do now. Through the veil, my gaze met his. I knew it. His nostrils flared. He knew it.
The screams came again, ringing out from one of the nearby rooms, drawing my attention. Two doors down, the door was open.
Rylan was at my side. “Pen—”
I skirted his reach and headed toward the sound. What happened in that alcove with the Lord fell to the wayside as my fingers curled around the handle of my dagger. Screams were never a good sign.
A woman rushed out—the servant who’d been carrying the basket. Her face leached of all color as her hand opened and closed against her throat. She backed away, shaking her head.
I reached the room at the same time Rylan did and looked inside. I saw her immediately.
She was lying on an ivory-colored settee, her pale blue gown wrinkled and bunched around her waist. One arm dangled limply off the side, her skin the shade of chalk. I didn’t have to open my senses to know she felt no pain.
That she’d never feel anything again.
I lifted my gaze. Her head rested against a pillow, neck twisted at an unnatural angle and—
“You shouldn’t see this.” Rylan grabbed me, and this time, I didn’t move out of his reach. I didn’t stop him as he turned me away, but I already saw.
I saw the deep puncture wounds.
