Jealousy? Perhaps it was.
"Oh," Rose replied with a flippant wave of her hand. "Then I should go see him."
"Rose. This is very serious. You will not speak of your magic or what you can or cannot do. The king has no place in this building, nor does he have as much power here as he likes to think. Speak nothing of your abilities." The High Priestess pinched her nose. "Why he seems to think he can speak to you without me present, I will never understand."
It was absolutely jealousy. Rose straightened her back, stiffening her shoulders and looking at the High Priestess with a cool, although arrogant, expression of her own. "We'd best not keep him waiting, don't you agree?"
There was a small moment where she swore the High Priestess looked at her with pity. But that couldn't be right. This was the greatest honor an acolyte could get; even a priestess dreamt of meeting with the king and having him look at her with interest.
Yes, jealousy was all this could be.
Turning her chin up, she headed out the door as though she were leading the High Priestess. Maybe she would be in charge soon enough. The king would see how strong she was, how capable, and he would give her all that she had ever dreamt of. He'd take one look at her and know without a doubt that she was worthy of all the power he could give her.
Walking through the plain halls of her new home, she ignored all the other acolytes whispering together as she walked past them. They knew where she was going. Cassandra was quick. So all the doors to the bedrooms were open as the girls buzzed that she was going to meet the king, the man who had prepared them all for a life of servitude and luxury. It wasn't hard to give up their lives when they were promised so much.
The only face she didn't see was her sister's. Astrid was barely an acolyte anymore, though. She was so busy learning how to be a perfect priestess that Rose was certain she was studying evennow. Midnight was the only time Astrid was actually available, and by then, Rose was face down snoring in her bed.
Rose didn't want her advice in this anyway. She knew what she was doing.
She'd captured the attention of the king all on her own.
Finally, the High Priestess moved ahead of her and pointed to a doorway. That was where the king waited. That was where her life was going to change forever.
Straightening her shoulders, she plastered a pretty grin on her face. Maybe even the grin that had made the king want to speak with her.
But the High Priestess blocked her with a hand on her shoulder. "Listen to me, little girl. There is something you should know. The king can do what he wants with us. He can do what he wants with anyone in this kingdom. Whatever happens to you in that room, I cannot stop from happening. But I will be here when you come out."
Rose looked into her face and noted the concern there. Wrinkles stretched out from the sides of her eyes, worry furrowing deep grooves between her brows. She really shouldn’t worry so much. It was marring her features that might have once been beautiful.
"I'll be fine," Rose replied. "You don't have to wait for me."
And then she walked into the room that was so much more opulent than her own.
A fire burned in a hearth that appeared to be made entirely out of white marble. It was carved with the scene of a hunt, with rabbits, boar, and deer fleeing into the flames while the hunters victoriously fired arrows toward them from the top. She might have stared at it for hours if her eyes hadn't found the king himself.
He rested on one of the many couches in the room. It was crimson red, so plush he seemed to sink into it. A goblet of winedangled from his hand, and drops of it had spilled over the edge to drip onto the pristine white sheepskin at his feet.
He looked proud. Of her. The way his gaze moved over her body made her feel like she was special. Like she was more than just an acolyte, and he saw the value in her. He was so handsome. With his dark hair and square features, he was more than just a man. He exuded every inch of power that a king should exude. No one in the entire kingdom would ever deny that he was the right person for... everything.
But then her gaze flicked over to the other couch, and she realized there was another man here with the king. At her attention, the stranger stood.
He was older. Far older than she would have thought a man of his stature should be. Though he still stood tall, with square shoulders and a strength in his spine that suggested he hadn’t only sat at a desk, he was still somehow old. His white hair was thinning, and his features had sagged with time.
"This is her?" the man asked as he approached her.
"That's the one. I thought she might interest you."
Wait, no, that wasn't right. She had interested the king. That was why he had called her here. She wasn't here for this man she didn't recognize, and who stared at her like she was a piece of meat he was about to buy. This man looked at her as if he were ravenous, and that terrified her.
Swallowing hard, she glanced over at the king. He would reassure her that this was all some misunderstanding. All she had to do was focus on him, and he could guide her through this. He wouldn't put her in any uncomfortable situation.
But the king met her gaze with a cold, apathetic look. "I have my suspicions about her magic. Why don't you touch her, Jonathan? We'll see if I'm right."
Touch her? No, no, that wasn't what priestesses did. They didn't get touched by strange men, and they didn't have to put upwith disgusting old men. She would fight. She'd bite anyone who tried.
But the man was so much bigger than she was. When he grabbed her, there was nothing she could do to fight against him. In a second, he had her wrapped up in his arms with his hands on her breasts. No one had ever touched her like this, and the sheer terror was unlike anything she'd experienced before.
Something in her snapped. One moment she was in the room with them, and the next she wasn't. She was in a meadow. Flowers of every color swayed around her hips. The soft, velvety petals tickled her fingers, and she could smell sweet pollen in the air.
