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Chapter 7
Now
It felt like a funeral. We stood in the entrance hall of the Low Royal Castle, the other Initiates standing as rigidly as I did in our simple gowns, a far cry from the frothy monstrosities we would be wearing in three days' time. My turquoise satin gown pooled on the floor beneath me, the color of Pellucid Harbor, the color of a past life.
It was the first time I had seen any of the other Initiates, and to say I was the obvious outlier was an understatement. Though my thick caramel hair was curled and coiffed in the same fashion as the others, I still looked noticeably different. My face was simply more womanly, more angled, my body more well-defined. I was taller than the others, too, and I was certainly the only one who did not still hold her virginity.
I met Cora when I arrived for the greeting ceremony, the two of us exchanging an awkward nod as our parents introduced us. She wasyoung,maybe seventeen at most, the roundness of youth still visible in her cheeks. Her hair and brows were a rich dark brown, close to black, and her skin was just as rich. Her father was Baron Evenmark, a plump fellow with the same hair and brows as his daughter. Her mother was slight and aloof, seemingly removed from the entire gathering.
Estelle was the daughter of Lord and Lady Ascelin, the former of whom had been taken by a fever just a year ago. Estelle’s older brother stood in his place, chin raised proudly but clearly shaken by the responsibility that lay before him. Estelle’s gown was a pale yellow, the color offset by her sandy brown skin and jet black hair.
Next came Alira and Willow, twin daughters of Baron and Baroness Dumond, the softness of their blue eyes indicative of eighteen years or thereabouts. Both girls were dressed in shades of purple, Alira in lilac and Willow in aubergine, the silk pooling identically at their feet. Even their blonde curls were identical, pinned tastefully at the napes of their necks.
Iridia lowered herself into an almost awkward curtsy as she was introduced to Lord Castemont by her father, Lord Pouissard. She tucked a tightly coiled curl behind her ear as she stood up again, her dark eyes searching for her mother. Lady Pouissard had been flitting about the room for a few minutes, making conversation as if she weren’t sending her daughter off to what could be her death. Clearly it wasn’t a concern for her.
Rounding out the Initiates was Augusta, a girl of no more than eighteen with wild red hair that was barely contained by the ribbon tied around it, a youthful flush to her cheeks that matched that of her mother, Lady Seavale. Lord Seavale stood a few inches taller than his wife, his handsome face still as a stone.
I wasancientamong this crowd of mere children.At twenty-four years old, I should have been married for at least six years by now and a mother three or four times over. Though the other girls were polite and cordial, I could feel the antipathy and dejection radiating from where they stood. I was another.
In a room full of people, I was utterly and completely alone.
We stood in a half-moon across the entrance hall, the wide, curved staircase looming over us, each Initiate pushed forward with her parents behind her. Each nobleman’s head guard stood in the back, hand on the hilt of the sword at their side. “Do I look okay?” I whispered to my mother. There had been no rule against speaking, but the occupants of the hall had fallen into an unarticulated, agreed upon silence. I didn’t want to be the one to break it.
Her hand rested on my upper arm. “You look beautiful, dear,” she whispered back, her tone hopeful on the surface but tainted with a distant emotion I could not place. Lord Castemont leaned in, placing his hand on my other arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Just do as you practiced,” he breathed. I nodded.
The beasts of the Onyx Pass prowl the mountains with your blood on their jowls.
No. I wouldn’t think about the soothsayer.
I could do this. I would do this. Ihadtodo this.
The two guards standing on either side of the towering set of doors straightened as the noise of hooves stirred outside, skidding to a halt. The room went eerily still. The left guard opened his mouth, the sound of the intake of breath piercing the quiet. “Presenting the esteemed seven, the designated sons of the Benevolent Saints, the honorable members of the Board of Blood, Eserene’s authority of Royal Initiation.” My stomach dropped. The guards stepped toward the door, pulling open each side in perfect unison, the clank of the heavy wood echoing deafeningly throughout the hall. My mind quickly flashed to an explosion, the sound, the shock–
Sunlight poured in, a stark contrast to the somber, padded darkness of the entrance hall. Only six silhouettes stood in the doorway.
“Sir Anton,” the guard called, and the figure on the right stepped through the doorway into the gloom of the hall. Away from the too-strong sunlight, his face came into focus as he bowed slightly and surveyed each Initiate with burning amber eyes. He was deathly pale, skin milky white, almost translucent. His shoulder length hair was black, pinned back at the sides to reveal angular cheekbones. Something about his face, the way his chin met his lips under a sharp nose made me even more uneasy than I had been before. I felt like I was going to vomit.
“Sir Balthazar.” The second figure stepped forward, joining Anton in eyeing each Initiate. They looked similar, the severe cheekbones stretching taut pale skin. The biggest difference was his eyes, a faceted shine of crystalline blue. “Sir Higgins.” Higgins stepped forward, his eyes the same green as my mother’s engagement ring. But he was shorter than the others, more solid, his skin a few shades darker, but with the same jet black hair. “Sir Raolin.” His eyes were shockingly red, the most unnatural ruby tone I’d ever seen. His face was rounder, reminiscent of a man who may not have always been so wicked. “Sir Arturius.” Even still, the trend of unnerving eyes continued as jade irises struck against his dark hair, his imposing figure a few inches taller than his counterparts. “Sir Garit.” Amethyst eyes traveled the room like it was a feast to be devoured, his neck long and disconcertingly graceful. The shade of his eyes stirred something in me, something that I wasn’t yet ready to rouse.
Stillness fell again.
“Sir Ludovicus the Wicked.”The what?A seventh silhouette materialized in the doorway, breezing in at a more leisurely pace than those before him. His hands were behind his back, the only noise in the hall was the fall of his boots on the ground. He had similar features to the other members, yet somehow sharper, more harsh. And his eyes — his eyes were pitch black, swallowing all the light that other eyes would have reflected. He quickly glanced around the room before his gaze fixed on me. I tensed, fighting the urge to step back.
Ludovicus came to a stop in front of me. He towered almost a foot above me, causing me to look almost straight up to meet his stare.Always look them in the eye,Marita told me. The instructions played again and again in my head as his onyx eyes bored into mine. My throat felt like it was closing, like I couldn’t get enough air. “Well,” he hissed, raising a hand to my face and placing a long, pointed fingernail beneath my chin. “How delightful to meet you, love. Aren’t you exquisite?” His voice was a knife on glass, gritty and rough across the fibers of my soul.
I felt Castemont stir behind me. “It’s a pleasure to see you, Sir Ludovicus,” he declared, the waver in his voice almost imperceptible. He stepped forward, extending a hand to the man — no, the creature — in front of me. Ludovicus’ eyes remained on me for a moment before breaking to meet Lord Castemont’s gaze, extending a hand to meet his. “Are you doing well, old friend?” Lord Castemont asked.
“Ah, Lord Evarius Castemont,” Ludovicus answered, the abrasiveness of his voice prickling the back of my neck. “I am doing well. Our sincere apologies for missing your nuptials, Lady Castemont,” he hissed toward my mother. She stayed silent. “As you heard, we were…indisposed.” The brothers shifted uncomfortably behind him. He turned back to Castemont. “Well Evarius, you’ve got a pig to send to market after all. My brothers in blood and I were getting worried. Such a shame she isn’treallyyours.” I cringed. I felt Castemont’s energy shift at the jeer and could tell he was planning his next words delicately.
“Petra may not be my daughter by blood, but I have come to love her as my own. The Benevolent Saints smiled upon me the day I met her. I am proud to present her to the Board for Initiation.” The pride was audible in his voice. If this all went to shit, if I were to die in three days, at least I had that.
Ludovicus’ piercing eyes shot back to me. Once again, I did not back down from his stare. “Tell me, child, how old are you?”
I swallowed, considering the implications of my answer. “I am twenty-four years old, Sir.” I ground out the last word.
His eyebrows raised. His chin dipped. “Twenty-four? And you’re just now standing for Initiation?” Was he kidding? Was this a test? He knew this, he knew that I just came into this position.
“As you know, my wife Irabel and I only met a few years ago. They were…lowborn,” he said, and I could hear his wince at the formal word for what we were.
“Ah, yes. A charity case, I remember now. How heartwarming.”
“No, good Sir. I love Irabel with every beat of my heart, meaning I love Petra just the same. You’ll see that she will be a valuable addition to the Royal Court.”
The other six brothers stirred slightly in their boots. “Yes, I’m sure she will be,” Ludovicus hissed, finally tearing his gaze from me and rejoining the others in the middle of the hall. “I’m sure you will all be valuable additions to the Royal Court.” He resumed a slow walk around the room, assessing each Initiate with his bottomless gaze. “We are honored to be the authority that oversees all Initiations. Thank you for hosting us.” He smoothed the lapel of his jacket. I watched as the guards at the front doors followed him with their eyes, discomfort evident on their faces. He clicked his long, pointed fingernails together, the rhythmic tapping echoing throughout the silent hall.
He sighed loudly. “Shall we feast?”
