That’s concerning.
It had been about a week and a half since I’d returned to the Spartan War Academy, and shockingly, my will to live was nonexistent.
Hours of lectures had melted my brain. Not being able to nap during breaks because I was tutoring Drex also didn’t help.
The lack of food, water, fresh air, and basic human (Spartan?) rights were not ideal.
The fact that the only toilet was so rusty I’d scraped my butt cheek on it this morning was my final straw.
Yes, I’d had a moment back at Corfu where I’d decided to think positive thoughts and live better. Unfortunately, I was a quitter and had already given up.
I’d accepted the truth—I am not meant to live well.
Now I stumbled forward exhaustedly, teeth chattering, bare feet squelching as cuts opened on my raw soles.
Someone’s stomach rumbled loudly, and a groan of despair echoed. Lately the other initiates had started complaining more and more that they were starving.
It was annoying.
Don’t they know the more you talk about it, the worse it feels?
I shoved gnawing hunger out of my mind and concentrated on not tripping.
The narrow path had darkened, and it was almost pitch black. Stalactites hung low and dripped water from the rock ceiling.
Drex walked behind me and mumbled about how if the tunnel narrowed any more, we’d get stuck—I’m praying for that.
Anything was better than sitting through another one of Augustus’s D and P lectures.
Apparently, clearing my mind until a sense of peace (from a nonexistent light source shining on the top of my head) settled over me was not one of my strong suits.
I guess I’m not perfect after all.
General Cleandro came to a sudden stop, and shoulders jostled as we ran into one another.
“Everyone be quiet,” the general whispered harshly. “There is a beast that will maul you to death inside the menagerie if you make a loud noise.”
Thank God.
He pushed open a heavy bronze door concealed in the rock wall of the corridor.
“You’re on your own from here,” he said. “Spartans with protectors are not allowed to enter. I’ll open the door to let you out in three hours sharp. Good luck.”
No one moved.
To be fair, only an idiot would voluntarily go inside.
“Move your sorry asses right now,” the general whispered harshly. “Or you’ll run the circuit until your dicks fall off.”
I pursed my lips. So would that affect a vagina as well or was it just a?—
The general grabbed the front of my tunic, lifted me off the ground, and chucked me inside.
Does that mean I’m his favorite?
Ears ringing, I lay for a long moment on—grass that was... warm?
Bright light burned, leaves rustled, and birds chirped above.
