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The few bites of porridge I managed to choke down threatened to make their way back up, the irony of what was one of my last meals not lost on me. I placed a spoonful in my mouth, holding it there, savoring the warmth, the texture bringing me back to our pitiful kitchen. The oats may have been of a finer quality now, but it was still porridge.
I opened my mouth to say something but then closed it as the absence of words made itself apparent. “You are afraid,” Castemont said evenly, calmly. His voice was warm, even under the layer of uncertainty that covered the room. It hadn’t been a question, but I answered anyway.
“I am.” My tone matched his, my stare equally as steady. I hadn’t looked directly at him all morning, afraid that if I did, the anger I felt at him for withholding everything that Wrena told me would burst forward like a tidal wave. I didn’t want to sour one of my last mornings with my mother.
A sob broke from her lips suddenly, and she quickly covered her mouth with her napkin, taking a deep breath. “You face a considerable challenge tomorrow, Petra,” he stated. Each word plucked at my anger, the strings buzzing as the pitch got higher and higher. He folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “One that you had no knowledge of until very recently.”
Something snapped inside of me. A tiny, inconsequential twig on a forest floor. Something so small that almost I didn’t even notice it until heat bloomed in my chest. A flash of anger ricocheted through my body just then. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He cleared his throat. “It is forbidden to speak of the secrets of Initiation.”
“I’ve been here less than four months.” My tone began to sharpen, escaping my mouth in such a way that I almost didn’t recognize it as my own. I had never spoken to him in this way, even when I disapproved of the relationship he had with my mother. I placed my fist on the table, knuckles white. “Why didn’t you tell me that mybloodwas to besacrificedto a bunch of fucking Saints that haven’t done shit for me?”
His face went pale. “How do you know that?”
“Whydidn’t you tell me?” My voice echoed through the room. I heard the sound of Tyrak’s boots stirring in the hallway.
“Evarius?” my mother asked, confusion on her face. “What is she talking about?”
So she didn’t know. The kind man who had taken my mother in, takenmein, sat dumbfounded across from me; his mouth slightly agape as I saw his eyes widen, working over the words I had spoken.
“I am under oath. The sacred rites of the Initiation are a secret only shared by those who have entered into the Royal Court,” he said carefully.
“Evarius?” my mother repeated.
“Tell her. Tell her what is going to happen to me tomorrow,” My teeth were gritted so hard that my head began to pound.
“The sacred rites of the Initiation are a secret–”
I threw myself from my seat, my chair clattering to the floor as I leaned over the table.
“Fucking TELL HER!” I screamed. The rage that was becoming familiar boiled in my chest. I welcomed it,relishedit. It was new and shiny and churning in a way that demanded to be released. “I wasn’t raised preparing for this day! I have processed all of this in the last four months! Now turn to your Saints damned wife andtellher what is going to happen to her daughter, heronly remaining daughter,tomorrow.” The voice was mine but I didn’t feel like I was speaking. The words flew from my mouth sharper than daggers, gilded in Royal gold but forged in the depths of Inkwell.
My mother was sobbing at this point, her body convulsing. I saw her try to form aplease,but a sob stole it from her lips. Castemont said nothing, his silence deafening as his jaw clenched and unclenched.
“You lying piece ofshit.You absolute fucking piece of–”
His chair flew back like mine had as he shot to his feet. “I am your Lord and you will respect me as such, girl!” His voice boomed through the hall, the tone so foreign it almost made me recoil. His face was etched with a rage I hadn’t even seen a hint of before, his features turning animalistic.
“Fuckyour oath, Castemont,” I sneered. “You’ve watched medrownas I navigated this blindly. You couldn’t have thrown me a line? Anything to better prepare me? Youliedover and over.” I jabbed my finger at him from across the table. “Why did you tell me Initiation is held in every city on Astran when it’s only here? Why is it only Eserenian girls?” Tears threatened my eyes but they turned to steam as the heat rose up the back of my throat. “You’ve known me for almost four years, Castemont.Four years.You claim you love me yet you send me to the slaughterhouse, bound and gagged!”
“Petra!” my mother screamed.
“I trusted you! My mother trusted you!”
“The Initiation is held for a reason, Petra! Like it or not, only the strong enter the court. This is the way and has been since–”
“Since the Board of Blood showed up at the city gates? Since the Night of the Holy Stone of Blood Saints signaled to Umfray that these fuckersmustbe divine? Sent by the Saints? And King Belin is happy to continue the tradition?” I was almost hysterical now as my skin burned.
“Who told you?” he gritted out. A controlled heat bloomed in his eyes, thinly hiding a feral animal of rage behind it.
“Not you, that’s for damn sure!”
He circled the table, the sound of his boots on the marble echoing deafeningly as he approached me. “Who. Told. You?” I began to back away, but my eyes never left his.
We stopped moving as I hit the wall, refusing to cower even as he stood half a foot over me, looking down his nose at me.
“Not.You.” I repeated the words through gritted teeth. His palm connected with my cheek, the breath knocked from my lungs at the sheer shock of the blow, saliva flying from my mouth. My mother screamed his name, sprinting from her seat between us, pushing him back from me. I met his gaze again even as tears welled in my eyes, the sting of his palm like a hot iron on my face. I knew that the redness would fade, but I was forever branded by his hand. “This is your fault,” I said in a low tone, refusing to let him see me break. “You will live the rest of your life knowing thatyoukilled me.” He said nothing as he stared down at me, nostrils flaring.
