The thought barely forms before he turns and catches my eye. I shift my gaze as fast as I can, but I know I wasn’t quick enough. I die a little inside, knowing he saw me ogling him.
‘The priestesses alone know what the trials will encompass,’ the speaker is saying, ‘so while Commander Holden and I will be responsible for your training, we do not know what dangers you will face.’
Holden. The name rings a bell, but I can’t immediately place it.
‘Thank you, Commander.’ The man who must be Holden steps forward to stand beside the speaker. A short man, Holden looks to be of a similar age to what my parents would be if they were still alive. ‘Over the course of the Retterheld, we will become better acquainted. Either Zelle or I will be in the yard from dusk till dawn each day, and I would recommend that any of you who want to succeed do the same. Although it must be said that training alone will not be enough to help you survive.’
So the first speaker was Commander Zelle. He’s rumoured to be good friends with Prince Kyor, which immediately makes me distrust his judgement.
‘After the vows, you will be transported back to the palace.’ Zelle takes over again. ‘And I would urge you to remember that while each of you here has been blessed by Etta, the Goddess can strip you of that blessing just as quickly as she gave it. So tread carefully.’ The way he enunciates his words, like he’s issuing a personal threat to us all, causes a chill to roll through the courtyard. ‘You will be called one by one today to give your blood in the manner chosen by the priestesses. You donotspeak. Not before, not during, not after. Not a single word.’
He pauses again, and tension swells through me. ‘Does anybody know the punishment for speaking in the Sunken Temple?’
As the hair rises on the back of my neck, I don’t doubt that every single person here knowsexactlywhat he’s talking about. The Sunken Temple is not just a temple of Etta. It is sacred toallthe Gods, and only the priestesses may converse in this sacred space.
‘We’re not in the temple itself yet,’ Zelle reassures when he realises volunteers aren’t forthcoming. Even the young woman from Dorain has ceased hushing her older companion. ‘You can bet my life I wouldn’t be speaking if we were. Now, someone tell me, what’s the punishment?’
Slowly, a shaking hand rises into the air. Coulter.
‘You have your lips bound together?’ His voice trembles.
‘Yes,’ Zelle replies. ‘For how long?’
‘One stitch and twelve moons of imprisonment for every word spoken.’ It’s a knight who answers this time, and I’m pretty sure it’s Grenda, the one Jonas told us was a serious contender.
‘Good.’ Zelle scans the crowd, nodding. ‘A stitch and a year for every word you speak. So keep your mouths shut in there. Or if youmustsay something, you’d better make it good, because those words may well be your last.’
I can feel the nerves ripple through the space. Coulter is physically trembling, and it’s not the kind of clenched-fist tremble you can keep to yourself. His knees are jerking up and down, and from where I’m perched, it looks like his skin has taken on a greenish hue. Llinos places her hand on his arm and whispers something comforting in his ear.
‘Any questions?’ Holden barks.
I assume the question is rhetorical, and yet one hand shoots into the air: Zara’s.
‘Why aren’t you two in the Retterheld?’ she says. ‘You’d be eligible. Did she turn down your offering?’
A collective gasp echoes at her gall, but while Holden’s face flashes with fury, Zelle offers a smile in response.
‘From my experience,’ he says, ‘one who cannot find happiness within the gifts they have already been given will struggle to be satisfied by more. Now, unless there’s a question that actually has a purpose, let’s get that blood drawn.’
A couple of hushed whispers pass between a few of the Rettlings as my mind ponders what Zelle said. By his reasoning, I’m the only one this gifting will truly benefit. Maybe Ishouldtrust his judgement after all.
As silence takes hold of the group, I twist around and carefully make my way back down the cave wall. When I reach the ground, I immediately look for the group from my carriage, wanting their moral support. Excluding Estel, that is.
After spotting Llinos in the crowd, I make a beeline for her, only to find my path blocked. Not by a Rettling, but by Commander Holden himself, the scowl still very much in place. Seeing him up close, I realise he’s not quite as short as I originally assumed; Zelle must just be exceptionally tall.
‘Of course, I should’ve known a Kultavaris wouldn’t be able to just stand and listen like everybody else.’
‘You knew my parents?’ I ask, surprised by my own forthrightness.
Holden scoffs and his features contort as though he’s swallowed something impossibly bitter. ‘To think, the Goddess chose the offspring of the bastard lord and his witch wife over, over …’
‘Over you?’ I suggest.
A snarl rattles from his lips. Animosity from the other Rettlings I expected, but from one of the people in charge of training us? That’s something I wasn’t prepared for. Jonas’s words about the only people having problems with my father being those who were jealous of his powersswim around my head. Well, I can’t say for certain, but I’m pretty sure this interaction is telling me that Holden was seriously jealous.
‘Holden.’ Zelle’s voice echoes in the cave. ‘Time to move.’
Holden bites down on his lip as he stares at me.
