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Lady Evangeline Ravenshade, first-born daughter of Duke Edric, was close to my age.
Not that anyone had bothered to keep track, but whenever I looked at her, then myself…weappearedto be about the same in years. Which meant sometime soon—perhaps already—I would turn eighteen.
Coming of Age for a Descendant was a once in a lifetime celebration.
Tonight, at half past nine, exactly eighteen years after she drew her very first breath, Evangeline would come into her magic.
In a ceremony as old as time, she would claim the ancestral magic bestowed on these powerful beings who ruled our realm and become a full-fledged member of Descendant high royalty.
No one knew how her magic would manifest.
Perhaps as pure white flame, perhaps a flickering blue shadow, but every member of the Varitus High Court would attend tonight’s ball to watch her claim her gods-given power.
Those same Descendants would toast Evangeline tonight and the pile of gifts would be extraordinary. Treasures from all across Varitus, some from even beyond the Shoaling Sea.
Not that turning eight and ten meant anything for a slave.
There’d be no balls or gifts or magic for me.
Only more days spent dodging the Mistress’s fists and trying not to starve. Only more of…this.
A life that was not really a life. An existence with nothing to mark my time in this realm except for misery, misery, and more misery.
I headed to the nearest sink, where filthy dishes were piled to the ceiling, pulling over a chair to reach the top.
I washed pots until my hands were blistered. Around me, everyone gossiped about the party now raging upstairs, the cost of the food, the years-worth expense of magic, the flowers brought in from Briarwood.
The handsome lord Evangeline was betrothed to.
How long before she produced an heir.
I was almost done scrubbing when the conversation turned darker, to the endless war raging in the east and whether the senseless bloodshed would ever reach Varitus.
“Let the heathens fight on their lands.” Cook muttered, dropping another towering stack of pots in the sink in front of me. “If they ever brought their warmongering here, the Descendants would make quick work of them.”
“Right.” Someone else added. “They’d best not try anything in Varitus, or we’ll send them right back where they came from.In boxes.” Ember rolled her eyes and I hid my smile.
Right now, I hardly cared about a distant war that only existed in the arguments of old men.
My shoulders ached, sweat dripped off my chin. Those were minor bothers, but my bladder was bursting, I’d never hold it until morning. I raised my hand, kept my head bowed. “Go. Come straight back.” Cook snapped. Ember’s face scrunched in worry, but I slipped through the door, giving her a thumbs up.
I emerged into the perfumed coolness of the manicured garden, a constellation of faelights hanging over the fruit-laden trees, illuminating everything an eerie blue-green.
I could pee right there in the bushes, but…a couple strolled by, the woman’s nose wrinkling when she caught sight of me. If word got back to the Mistress…I shuddered. No, if I got caught urinating on the duchess’s roses, the witch would strip the flesh from my bones in front of everyone in the castle.
The servant’s quarters—and our privies—were on the far side of the formal gardens, which were filled with tuxedoed butlers and arrogant, glittering guests trying to impress one another, the sound of cruel laughter floating above the moonflowers that spiced the cold night air.
I kept to the outer edge of the high hedgerow; the dark green foliage sprinkled generously with red, poisonous berries. To my right loomed Bloodwood Forest, its gloaming darkness dense and endless—as if awaiting its next meal.
The wall that divided Varitus from Caladrius—the Kingdom of the Fae—lay somewhere within those ancient woods. I didn’t know what madness made the duke build his castle so close to the border. But he had, and the dark forest seemed to creep closer every year.
But this garden was safe, so long as I stayed close to the clipped yews and away from the gnarled trees in the wood.
My feet flew over the damp gravel path as I raced toward the privies, not sure I would make it in time.
“Well.” A tall shadow blocked my path and I slid to a stop.
“Whatever is a slave doing out here all alone?”
