‘Dany, similarly, a solid attempt at a salve.’
Then they look at me. ‘Although a little unconventional, Hanan’s remedy was one of the more notable ones.’
Rows of faces turn towards me, and their jealousy burns my skin.
‘I dare say you’ve earned your supper tonight. You may join the lower Sisters in the refectory now.’
We file out, the other girls chattering in excitement and frustration. The voices bounce off the vaulted ceilings as we cross the corridor to the refectory.
‘She didn’t even have a burner,’ Nusi whispers to Malostra, incredulous. ‘How did she do it?’ Malostra shrugs, looking disgusted.
‘Well, that was a waste of an afternoon,’ Nusi complains loudly, but not so loud the Temple Mothers can hear. ‘They’re probably not even going to do anything with them, don’t you think?’
Malostra sighs. ‘I hope they don’t make us dump them in the sea after dinner. Someone could use them to help with their moon’s blood, surely?’
They still think this is child’s play. An Aistra exercise. The Temple Mothers wouldn’t waste our time and resources on something abstract. Not at this stage. The remedy is for abdominal pain. I imagine the queen, alone in her bedchamber, no husband, only a child in her belly who writhes and won’t quiet.
The king is dead, and the queen is desperate.
My attention is diverted as we enter the refectory. The room is divided by long benches and tables, with a raised platform for the Temple Mothers. They sit in order of age, with the oldest girls closest to the Temple Mothers’ table to represent the near-completion of their training. But tonight, my peers spread themselves out so there’s not enough room for me. Once the younger classes see this, they also ignore me when I ask to join their benches. Eventually Sister Hoss moves down, and I sit with the youngest Sisters, who barely take up the bench on their table. I try to hunch and keep my arms close after I almost send a pitcher of water flying.
We often eat stews or soups to stave off the cold, and it is easy to feed a group from one large cauldron. It also makes the preparation straightforward, with every class assigned a meal to dish up. Once, when I was younger, we ate a creamy fish soup with the freshest bread. That was the first time I remember a priestess being appointed – such fine things were only given on celebration days like that.
Today we’re served a sour red soup made of beetroot and cabbage and little else. I slop half of it down my dress in my rush to eat and curse myself at staining the freshly cleaned fabric.
The Mothers clap their hands, and we quickly fall to silence.
‘We are now at liberty to share some grave news with you all,’ Mother Joca intones. ‘The king has passed, and his spirit was laid to rest by myself and Mother Lin in the Tree of Life.’
‘Blessed be his rest,’ we all murmur.
‘Her Royal Highness will appoint her next priestess in due course,’ Mother Joca announces, the unspoken connection understood by all.
Murmurings break out among the Sisters but are quickly silenced by Mother Lin rapping on the table with her knuckles.
I try to remember the last time a girl was selected. It first happened during my second year at Aistra, and I didn’t fully understand. I thought she was being sent to her death. How I wailed, until the Temple Mothers explained. The next time was during my first blood. The last one had been Freya, not five years ago. She had slept in the room next to me and Malostra, and had been replaced by a young girl who wet herself and cried for home.
‘We have been watching your efforts closely.’ Mother Lin adds, ‘And will continue to do so. Consider this a time for each Sister to conduct herself with absolute perfection.’
I’d studied the archives in the library, learned the names and dates of priestesses past, hoping to join their historical ranks. I am almost complete in my training and ready for the next step in my path. A fourth priestess in such short succession was a rare opportunity and I would take it. I would do better than the others. I would not fail to please her.
chapter thirteen
finlyr
Narra puts usto work as soon as dawn breaks the next day. Everyone else is asleep, save Ligaya, who we meet returning with an armful of paper bags. The smell of fresh baking wafts from the bags and she sees the hungry look in our eyes, but Narra promptly ushers us out to the garden.
‘Breakfast must be earned,’ she says flatly.
The garden is only a small patch of dirt behind the inn, but there’s a peace in the smell of freshly turned earth and the sun only just breaking the horizon. She patiently explains her system, getting us to repeat her instructions back to her when she thinks our concentration is wandering.
‘Medicinal herbs are in this planter here,’ Isagani repeats, hiking up their skirts to point their muddy boots at the spot.
‘Now it’s nothing compared to Alev or Gretabel,’ Narra says, looking around proudly, ‘but it’s helpful to have fresh supplies of anything we can grow here.’
‘We can handle it,’ I say, grabbing the shovel and basket. ‘Everything that’s ready to harvest, correct?’
‘Indeed.’ Narra nods. ‘We’re full to the rafters at the moment.’
