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Calvin thought fighting at the Borderlands would supply enough coin to pay what we owed to the bank and send for a healer from the Golden City. The center of Saol, and the one place with the top alchemists, healers, and priestesses. Someone there would know what was happening.
I begged Calvin not to go.
That was almost a year ago.
Ms. Begalia clapped again, releasing me from my thoughts. Her tight bun seemed to pull extra hard on her already sharp features. “You will each take a seat and draft a letter explaining your qualities and why you should be chosen.”
“She can’t be serious,” I said to Janetta as we sat at one of the tables.
Quill and ink had been left out, along with parchment. I glanced at the other girls, wondering if I was the only one who thought this charade was ridiculous. Three brunettes congregated at a table down from us. They all had the same slender nose and pale blue eyes.
“Those are the Haalow sisters,” Janetta whispered while dipping her quill into the ink. “Claudia, Corella, and Chloe.”
“Why are they all here?”
Janetta squinted at the girls. “They’re in the room next to mine, and loud. I think they all have different abilities and expect Lord Demious will choose one. If he picks one, all three are saved. I think they’re going for a package deal.”
I could understand banding together. They couldn’t be more than a few years apart with the youngest around sixteen—she was the youngest here, besides Alicia who I guessed couldn’t be more than seventeen.
None of them were an old hag like me . . . twenty-two years old with no husband in sight. Some even thought I was too old to marry. It never bothered me, though. Sure, what woman didn’t want a handsome man to roll around in the dirt with? Except, I didn’t havetimeto roll around in the dirt unless I was chasing the chickens.
“I think it’s nice they’re protecting each other,” I said with a sigh. “Better they work together.”
Ms. Begalia slammed a wand on our table.
Janetta and I both jumped.
“There is no talking while you are writing.” The head mistress frowned at us. “Proper ladies listen.”
“Sorry,” Janetta mumbled.
I couldn’t say a word because the mole on Ms. Begalia’s upper lip had a hair in it. A really long one. How could she leave it hanging like that? Did she not feel it when she washed her face? Did she like having a long black hair floating on the afternoon breeze?
“Is there a problem, Miss Hawk?” If Ms. Begalia frowned anymore her face would fall off.
Janetta bumped my thigh with her leg under the table, eyeing me to answer.
“No, ma’am.” Quickly, I began scribbling on the parchment.
This is ridiculous.
Somehow, I managed to write about my hardiness, my tenacity, my fire magic—though, I left out the bigger details of that—and how grateful I would be to be chosen. Blah, blah, blah.
Mole maid came for our parchments and rolled them up. “Your next test will be outside. Follow me.”
The ever-quiet Alicia, Janetta, and I followed the rest of the girls out through the doors and to a grassy field on the opposite side of the mansion where a line of circular targets had been set up.
Baine stood off to the side, arms crossed. Our gazes met and while my cheeks flooded with heat from his penetrating stare, his brooding expression glowered.
Was I that intolerable that he couldn’t even say hello?
Ms. Begalia picked up a long bow from the tables in front of us. “As the lady of Farrow’s Gate, you must be able to defend yourself and others.”
She grabbed an arrow from a wicker basket and slung it on the bow. “Each of you will aim at the target like this, and release.”
The arrow whizzed through the air, stabbing the red circle on the wood. A perfect bull’s-eye.
“Ms. Begalia.” One of the Haalow sisters raised her hand, maybe the middle one.
