Page 8 of Split or Swallow

“What if I’m inadequate?”

“All girls are inadequate when they go into the caves.”

“Not all girls,” Tem muttered, thinking of Vera with Jonathan.

“Trust me, my dear. You will do just fine.”

Tem sighed. It was no use—her mother simply didn’t understand. Tem had absolutely everything to fear. Inadequacy was but a single feather on the wing of her insecurities. Tem couldn’t imagine a scarier scenario than the one she was about to experience.

And yet, the dream ran through her mind.

If what awaited her in the caves was anything like what had happened in the dream, she knew she had no reason to fear.

“It’s nearly nightfall. Why don’t you go get ready?”

Tem nodded. Anything was better than chopping potatoes.

She retreated to the bathroom, drawing a bath and washing quickly, trying not to think about every inch of her naked body. When she returned to the kitchen, her mother gestured to the bench.

“Sit.”

Tem sat. Her mother tapped her on the knees.

“Pull up your skirt, my dear.”

“Why?”

Her mother held up two amber glass vials.

“We must apply oils to your thighs.”

Tem frowned. She didn’t want to go into the caves with oily thighs.

“What for?”

“Ylang ylang is for bravery. Sandalwood for heat. They will give you courage, and capture the eye of the basilisk.”

“Hopefully not literally,” Tem muttered as she pulled up her skirt.

“Of course not, my dear. You know what I mean.”

Tem sighed, watching as her mother took the stoppers from the vials and spread the oils on her thighs. She rubbed them in with warm fingers, leaving the skin shiny and bright. The rich, woodland softness of the sandalwood was an appropriate mate for the floral depth of the ylang ylang. Tem could imagine how the scents would entice a man.

But was it truly a man she was to entice?

“Mother,” Tem said tentatively as her mother resealed the vials. “What will it be like?”

She’d never asked her mother about her own time in the caves. But her moth⁠er had been just like Tem: born in the same year as a prince, and had participated in the same training. The prince hadn’t chosen her as his wife, but Tem often wondered what her life would be like if he had.

Her mother sighed deeply, and for the first time that evening, her brow softened. She looked like she was remembering something significant.

“It will be…transformative. You will take the first step to becoming a wom⁠an.”

“I thought I was one already.”

“Not nearly, my dear. You have barely begun to live. You cannot possibly fathom the journey you are about to embark on,” her mother tugged Tem’s dress down, stepping back to look at her fully. “Now remember, this is but the first of many nights. Do not offend him, or else he may not allow you to come back.”

“How would I offend him?”