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I smirked. “Touché.”
“Do you follow the New Religion?” Arkyn asked, honey-brown eyes meeting mine. He crossed his arms over his chest, the crimson jacket he wore crinkled, stiff, signaling it was probably new.
I didn’t answer right away, as I needed time to consider my options. I knew the Crown’s stance on the New Religion—that they were willing to do anything to ensure it succeeded, even slaughter people by the thousands. I didn’t doubt Arkyn possessed a similar belief—he was the advisor of the king, after all. He also had an uncanny ability to detect my lies.
I decided to proceed with the truth. “I know the basics about it, what is taught to us in the books. I believe in the New Gods, I just don’t know my stance on the New Religion itself. To be honest, sometimes it seems like it was written by a man—utilized as a means of controlling women and what they do with their bodies. These statues are a fine example of that. It appears that the goddess is offering women two choices. The first is the woman holding the babe. She is a good wife, producing heirs for her husband. And the second is empty-armed, which means she did not do her ‘wifely duties.’” I couldn’t help but pour a little cyanide in with the last two words.
“You are not far off, but there is quite a bit more to the story than that,” he said, pausing momentarily. “Despite being the Goddess of Life, Lady Light could not produce children for her husband.” His gaze lifted to the goddess before he asked inquisitively, “What do you think the collar implies?”
A trip to the pyre.
I ignored the impulse to blurt that thought out and shrugged, studying the way it gripped her neck, a dreadful feeling building in my gut. I ignored that too. Quickly, I replied, “That she was a slave to her own desires and wants, and that kept her from being a good, little wife?” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I didn’t know much about the goddess’s fertility woes, nor did I really care to find out more.
He turned to me, his voice rough. “Tell me, Sage, when you are faced with the same decision, will you be agood little wife?”
The question felt out of place, his intense gaze even more so—like he was boring into me, testing me. I took a step away, needing some distance between the two of us. Me? A good little wife who swept the floors, pregnant and bare foot, cleaning up after a man who sat on his ass, barking at me to bring him a tankard of ale?
Shaking my head, I said firmly, “I have no plans to get married.”
Especially after working at the bathhouse.No thanks.
He stepped closer to me, his fingers capturing a ribbon of my white hair. “And yet—” His fingers drifted down the length, gently tossing it to the side when he got to the end. “I have a feeling you will.”
I rolled my eyes.
The sound of trickling water sifted towards me, the smell of something sweet tinging the air. I followed the sound. Behind the gilded statue, a wall-like structure towered. From the top, glistening waters fell, coating the wall made of white rock. But there was something off about the water, like it was heavy and thick and had a will of its own—harder for gravity to bend to its will.
People gathered around the expansive fountain, joy spreading over their faces as they cupped their hands under the water, filling them and drinking.
Arkyn led me through the crowd. “The fountain was discovered thousands of years ago. It is why the temple was built here in the first place. It is rumored to bring blessings upon those who drink from it in good faith.”
Now close enough, he reached out and allowed it to flow into his large hands. He brought it to his mouth and slowly drank it down. For a second, I thought his eyes almost seemed to glow. He gestured to the water. “Go on, have a taste.”
I cupped my hands together and watched as the heavy liquid filled them. I was surprised by the weight of it—like molasses, not water. Bringing it before my lips, I breathed in its vibrant, sweet scent before I drank the divine nectar down. Like a beating drum, the fibers of my being started to thrum, pulsing with life, like something sleeping had been awoken in me. The taste of rich honey coated my tongue. My Water Curse thrummed with veracity. I felt powerful. Divine.
“What do you taste?” Arkyn asked as he wiped his hands against a white cloth—where he got it from, I didn’t see. He offered it to me.
I took it, drying my hands on the soft cotton. “It tastes sweet—like the richest, purest honey,” I exclaimed, my hands slowing, the question striking me odd. “Why? Does it taste different to you?”
“No.” He shook his head and smiled brightly. “I taste the exact same thing.”
Arkyn left me under the shade of a swaying tree—apparently,he had to go speak with someone briefly, but he wouldn’t be long. Or so he’d said. That was a good twenty minutes ago.
I occupied myself by studying the trees, racking my brain, trying to figure out what kind of trees they were. They possessed the same color as a birch tree, but their bark was like ash, covered in prominent furrows. I turned to one and ran my finger over a furrow, tracing the diamond pattern.
“You’re still here,” said a young voice, coming from my left.
I turned. The girl who came to pray for her brother gave me a kind smile, her eyes puffy and red. She no longer wore her long brown hair loose—her head now covered with a bandana.
“Yes, still here,” I replied warmly. “I’m just waiting for someone.”
“Oh, I see.” Swishing her lips to the side, she paused in thought. Her eyes lifted to mine. “I made the offering for your brother and mine.” She pointed to her head.
I eyed the bandana suspiciously. “I don’t understand.”
She untied the knot, slipped off the cloth, and revealed her hair was no longer there. Pieces of her scalp looked dry, irritated, like the hair had been plucked out by a dull, overused blade.
“The goddess does not care for false egos or material beauty. By removing our hair, we are paying tribute to her. I hope that she will grant her blessing upon me—that she will bring my brother home.” She returned the bandana to its new home and tied it tightly at the back of her head.
