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Her tongue has been removed.
“The King?” I whisper.
She nods.
“What about the other maids? Were their tongues removed as well?”
Another curt nod, and she holds up seven fingers.
Eight women, mutilated so they cannot speak.
“You and those other seven maids—you were all his father’s concubines?”
Again she nods.
“But how can that be? How can the King commit such atrocities and yet no one knows about it?”
Her eyes narrow and her mouth twists. The message is clear: People know. They just don’t care, or they don’t dare challenge the King.
“No one from my village knows… at least, I don’t think they do.” They couldn’t know, could they? I can’t believe the people I care about, the ones I grew up with, would stay quiet and subservient if they understood what was happening here in the House of Bounty. They would protest, they’d stand up to the Crown…
And be executed or maimed themselves.
No one spoke out for me when I was taken. Not one of the people I’ve known all my life said a single word. Even if they thought I’d deceived them with hidden magic, I would have expected someone to protest, or to say goodbye at the very least.
But they did nothing, said nothing. Was it because they feared the King and his soldiers?
“So this is our King,” I say slowly. “Why does he treat people like this? Does he plan to do the same thing to the new concubines if we don’t please him?”
Answers churn in her gaze—words she can’t verbalize, though I can tell she desperately wants to. I glance around, looking for a pen and paper.
“Can you get me something to write with?” I ask. “We could communicate that way.”
She shakes her head frantically, glancing at the door.
“Ah, you’re right. It’s too dangerous to have things written down—someone might find them,” I reply. “But maybe there’s another way. Are you familiar with Elvensign?”
She frowns.
“I learned it from a girl who lived near our mill. She and I used to play together. She was born without speech, so she and her parents used Elvensign to communicate. I learned it too. They have the same letters we use for Arcspeech, plus a few extra. I’ll teach you the alphabet first, so you can spell out anything you like. Then we can work on the signs for common words.”
Conflict churns in her eyes—hope, doubt, and fear intermingling.
“Come to me whenever you can, and I’ll teach you,” I say. “Words are power. The King took your tongue, but he can’t take your voice.”
Her lips compress tighter, and she reaches for a box she brought with her, opening it to reveal a fine necklace studded with semiprecious stones, the perfect complement to the garnet-colored dress.
“That’s beautiful, but I’d like to keep wearing this.” I touch the thin gold chain around my neck. “It was my mother’s.”
The maid hesitates, then nods. She removes the tiny studs I usually wear and adds large earrings in their place.
She’s barely done fastening the second earring when my bedroom door flies open and two guards enter.
“Juliette Wetheris,” barks one of them. “You are commanded to appear before the King, after which you will provide a demonstration of your powers of transmutation.”
Shit.
When I hesitate, one guard shoves the maid aside and pulls me to my feet. “Sloth will not be tolerated in this House. Come along.”
