Page 24 of Hellbound

She was confident that Varka’s training would be unforgiving, as the Sevrant trials were due to begin a week from today.

She took the path along the grand staircase toward the opposite wing. She was curious whether it did indeed have a hall of mirrors.

The heels of her boots clicked softly against the wooden floorboards as she passed portrait after portrait, halting when the end was in view. Not a mirror, but a grand cathedral window that faced an imposing snow-swept mountain. It had been a nightmare after all. She must’ve committed the scene to memory earlier when she had been led upstairs by the servant woman.

She pivoted on her heel, chastising herself for entertaining the hallucination any further. She would have to deal with Vornaya’s demands, but how?

A kill each week. Ksenia’s stomach turned at the thought.

The enticing smells of the dining room on the first floor hastened her steps down the wide staircase. Within the expansive dining room, an equally large spread of breakfast items was laid out on the warm wooden surface.

Varka had also dressed in a simple tunic and sharply tailored trousers. In her hand was a glass goblet, into which a servant poured freshly squeezed orange juice.

Ksenia spotted a honey-covered bun on a nearby tray and reached for it.

“Halt! Hold it right there—” Varka brandished her fork at her. “From this moment on, you’re only allowed to eat it if you can steal it.”

“I thought you wanted me to be conditioned and physically ready for the trials.” Ksenia arched a brow.

“I do. And part of the trials is an emphasis on stealth and pickpocketing, of course. This house is ancient. The floorboards are creaky, it’s strewn with delicate heirlooms and breakable objects, and…” Varka’s smile was lopsided. “It’s full of hidden surprises.”

Ksenia stared at her for a beat. Then swiped a bun with one hand, dashing back out to the foyer, narrowly avoiding the butter knife that buried itself into the wood grain of the door as it slammed shut behind her.

A short while later, Varka swung out of the dining hall licking each finger. Ksenia averted her gaze, focusing it back on the portraits on the walls. During the daytime, Beranek Manor had a different mood—full of light and air. The curtains were pulled open, letting in the misty gray morning light from all sides.

“I hope you enjoyed that pastry, because every single person in this household is in on our training and is sworn to make it hell.”

The staff looked at her warily as Ksenia shifted her weight back and forth. It seemed all eyes were on her now, thanks to Varka’s new game. She would have to “hunt” for her meals at less conspicuous times.

Ksenia’s stomach grumbled, and a nearby maid stared at her.

“Each of our days will be as follows: drills on survival, escape, followed by dueling.”

Ksenia ticked off each one in her head. “What about infiltration?”

Varka smiled wryly. “Hunger is as good a motivation as any, but I will teach you.” She stepped back from Ksenia, arms spread. “There is a gold piece in the right pocket of my trousers. Steal it.”

“What?” Ksenia glared. “You’ll be watching my every move—how could I fool you?”

Exasperated, Varka closed the distance between them, grasping Ksenia’s shoulders to quickly spin her to look at a nearby mirror.

“Don’t see it as taking. See it as distracting, then disappearing.” In the mirror’s reflection, Varka rolled a gold coin over her knuckles before tucking it into Ksenia’s pants pocket. There was a satisfying weight to it.

She flipped Ksenia back around and prompted her again. “Steal the coin.”

Ksenia glowered and jammed her fingers deep into the pocket, but came up empty. She schooled the surprise on her face, unwilling to let Varka’s ego blow up larger than it already was.

Varka’s grin spread ear to ear, the gold coin ensnared between her thumb and index finger. “Distract. Disappear.”

It was another couple of hours before the pair even left the entry hall for their next destination, while Ksenia repeatedly tried to take the coin from Varka by using distraction tactics and laying a hand on low-sensitivity areas of Varka’s body, such as her back and shoulder, while moving with a featherlight touch to free the heavy coin. Again and again, she failed.

“It’s because you know my intent and what I’m trying to do!” Ksenia threw her hands up in frustration.

“False. You know I’m trying to get the coin from your pocket, and yet I succeed. You, on the other hand, are jabbing at my hip like you’re digging with a shovel.” Varka snorted before breaking into a brisk walk, heading out the front door.

“Keep at it, have faith.”

They strolled behind the manor toward the gardens, which stretched out in layered terraces down the hillside. The winding path was made of loose black river rock, worn smooth from years of waves turning them back and forth. They passed a collection of roses, the dew still dripping from their petals. On their right, Varka pointed out a greenhouse filled with herbs and deadly plants, including ghostspine thistles, ashcap mushrooms, and, in the corner, night jasmine, which Ksenia gleefully noted.