Amyklai had chosen me to represent them.
We’d all been waiting for the king to finally announce the Trials. And now that the day had come, after years of held breath and dried wells, everything had to be perfect. No stains. No tangles. No excuse for me to be overlooked or rejected.
Because whatever happened in that palace tonight, it wouldn’t just be my fate on the line. It would be the fate of my entire village.
The new water was steaming hot when it came, and I hissed as I slid down into its depths, letting the heat bite my skin. It felt like I was sitting in guilt. Like I’d stolen it from the throat of the thirsty.
“Wait!” Calismae lunged forward and snatched my hair up before it could sink below the surface. “We’ll leave it unwashed. It will curl better and last longer for the journey.”
Another bucket thudded onto the tiles. “Don’t spill a single drop of that,” she growled, and the girl’s hands trembled as she poured.
My gaze drifted to the window, to the far-off black silhouette of King Menelaus’s castle. A jagged shadow against the sky. The Twisted Forest curled around it like a crown of thorns, bare trees with gnarled limbs that reached toward the heavens, as if in mourning. Or warning.
How ironic.
A fortress protected by nature itself, even though no one in Sparta was foolish enough to try to get in when the whole place was soaked in ruin. The only people who wanted to gotowardthat kind of power were the desperate.
Like me.
“Give me your hand,” Calismae ordered, startling me back to the present.
She examined my fingernails, shaking her head and clucking her tongue in outrage. “Have you beendiggingin the dirt?”
I sighed and held in my eye roll. “Yes, that’s exactly what I did this morning. Dug through the dirt with my bare hands before the gods opened their eyes.”
Calismae made the sign of Hades in the air, scandalized. “You blaspheme, Helena. Don’t bring them into this.”
I bit down on my lip, watching as she glanced out the window as if she expected Zeus Himself to appear in the clouds.
It was a futile hope though, dreaming of them returning.
Menelaus would never allow that.
“Chin up,” Calismae griped, scrubbing beneath my jaw like she expected to uncover a hidden layer of filth I’d been hoarding there since infancy. She worked the rag with military precision, her expression pinched, like my pores’ existence was the worst thing she’d ever been witness to.
“Leave some skin on my body, will you?” I teased, wincing as she attempted to rub every freckle off.
She tossed the rag into the basin with a wet slap, not even dignifying my complaint with a response. “Finish up and get out. Time is short.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m telling you, you’re going to miss this. Ordering me around.”
Her scowl deepened, and I reached for the rag immediately. Apparently, jokes were not allowed today.
The balcony doors suddenly slammed open, banging against the walls as a gust of wind shrieked through the air. In came the cursed red dust, fine as flour and angry as ash. I barely had time to flinch before Calismae shoved my head under the water like a priest performing a very aggressive baptism, gripping my hair so it was the only part of me not submerged.
My mouth opened in shock … and promptly filled with soap and near-death.
I surfaced a heartbeat later, gasping like a fish gutted too soon. “By the gods—”
“Close those doors!”Calismae bellowed, ignoring my choking. “If this bath is ruined, I swear I’ll have your hides drying on the line by nightfall, and you can sleep in the corpse pits till winter solstice!”
One of the girls scrambled to obey, nearly knocking over a pitcher in her rush. The door slammed shut, but it was too late. The water had turned murky again, streaked with grit and silt, like I’d been soaking in a vat of rust or ancient blood.
I blinked at the damage. Streaks of red clung to my skin, smeared across my arms and chest like war paint. I’d been drowned and dusted like a side of meat.Even this, just getting ready, had become a struggle. A testament to how far we’d fallen. When even a bath became a battlefield …
Calismae muttered something vile under her breath as she yanked me up by the elbow, dripping and dazed. She gave the water a murderous glance, as if she could beat it back into clarity with willpower alone. “Forget another rinse. We don’t have time for a fresh fill,” she growled, using a linen cloth to wipe the red stains off me.
“Ow!”I yelped as Calismae yanked a comb through my hair. “You know, if you rip it all out, there won’t be anything left to braid.”
