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I swallowed and stepped forward. My palms dampened and I plunged them in the ruffles of my skirts. Seven sets of perverted gemstone eyes were on my body. Before I could stop myself, I was speaking.
“I once gave up my pillow for my Da so he could tuck it behind his back to help ease the impact of his tremors while he slept. It was my only pillow, but he suffered from quassus mors, and he wasn’t getting any sleep.” The words tumbled from me as I felt the thin mattress against my head, the scratchy blanket pulled up to my chin.
Silence. I could sense the baffled look on Alira’s face beside me. “Ah,” Ludovicus sighed, cocking his head. “A true sacrifice. You may step back.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.
“Sacrifice, ladies, is one of the crucial pillars of the Royal Court. You must be able to look sacrifice in the face and not shy away. It is a way to get the Saints’ attention — we must commit sin in order to be forgiven.” His words were low, thick.
Commit sin? Sacrifice? What the actualfuck?
“Each year on the Eve of Keeper Katia’s Day, a lowly commoner is selected. They are brought to the castle, flayed, and dismembered on the Altar of Katia.” His nonchalant tone did not match what he was saying. “Their screams alert the Benevolent Saints that one of their children is in danger. Each member of the Royal Court is required to take part in some way, whether they peel a bit of skin from the muscle, saw through bone, sever the heart from their chest. Each member commits a sin under the watch of the Benevolent Saints.” I once again fought to keep my face straight, but I could tell someone down the line was beginning to sway, dangerously close to fainting.
Each year… That meant Castemont took part in this. My mother would one day take part in this.No.
“The Benevolent Saints gift us with their forgiveness as they always do,” Balthazar murmured. “Benevolence always washes the Blood away.”
Willow collapsed. Alira immediately dropped to her side, propping her up.
“Ah!” Ludovicus shouted. “Up, Alira.” She immediately dropped her twin, returning to a standing position with a red face. “Collect her, Higgins,” Ludovicus called, and the large man rose and prowled toward the fallen girl.
“No, please,” Alira begged, her stance still rigid. “Please, Sirs, she probably fainted from nervousness, from being in awe of your presence. Please don’t take her away.” Oh my Saints, were we about to watch her die? “Please!” screamed Alira.
“You are not to speak out of turn!” Anton shouted. Her face contorted around her sobs as she fought the urge to run to Willow. “What do we think, brothers?” he asked, turning down the line of the vampiric men. “Onyx Pass? Or shall we kill her now?” Alira choked on her sobs.
“Death. Now,” Arturius stated. Alira screamed. “We call upon Cyen, Saint of Death, to join us in this throne room.”
“Oh, but she’s unconscious, brother,” Garit chided. “I’d rather watch her awaken to realize death will be meeting her soon.” Murmurs of agreement.
Higgins slung her over his shoulder and placed her in a far corner of the room, shackling her hands together then running the chain around a column depicting Tolar’s bounty. She was still slumped over. I prayed she would somehow be dead before she had the chance to wake up.
“I’m not sure we’ve ever had someone fall so early,” Garit laughed, his voice slick like oil.
Ludovicus rasped out a low laugh. “The fun hasn’t even started.”
