Both Holy and Base, 4th Edition
He will break you. He might even kill you.
The words echoed in my head as Mieka dressed me the next morning in silence, her hands gentle. When I came down to breakfast, I found Milady sitting in state among her visitors, who barely spared me a glance now—because I had already been sold, I supposed, and was no longer of interest to them. Ban Morin had the gall to smile at me from where he sat at Milady’s right hand.
I felt like there must be some signs on my body, something to show what had been done to me the night before, but the guests smiled as usual, and no one recoiled in horror. It seemed wrong that I could feel so broken inside and look so unchanged.
I couldn’t go with Ban Morin. I couldn’t. The thought of being alone with him again made me feel cold and sick. I satin front of a plate of pastries, but couldn’t do more than pick at the flakey crust. Even the smell of tea made me feel nauseated.
One of Milady’s footmen entered the hall and bowed low before the table.
“Followers at the door, Milady,” he said quietly.
The Followers? They were here? My heart gave a leap. It had worked. My Hair started to curl about my shoulders, but I pulled it over my shoulder and held it still, pretending to play with it as I sipped my tea. I couldn’t let Milady see my excitement.
“They are calling on your hospitality, my lady,” said the footman.
I saw the slight flare of her delicate nostrils.
“Always so conveniently timed,” she murmured. “You have told them we have a houseful of guests?”
To deny them shelter or a meal was blasphemous, punishable by the Temple. She had to let them in. She had to keep up the pretense.
“Yes, Milady, but …”
“Yes, but.” She sighed. “Very well. Throw open the door to the east hall, and tell Cook to bring out more breakfast. It is an inevitability, I suppose.”
My heartbeat pulsed behind my eyelids, making my vision sparkle with each beat. I held myself tense as this band of Followers filed into the hall, as colorful and untidy as the band I had traveled with.
One of them peeled away from the group—a tall, white-haired figure—and spoke the formal words that invoked the rule of hospitality. The new arrivals caused a great deal of interest among Milady’s guests, and some stifled laughs as the Followers filed past the head table, making obeisance to Milady and thanking her for her generosity in cool, remote voices. Milady smiled and nodded, looking the very picture of a gracious lady. I took some pleasure in seeing her impeccably polished floors smeared with dirt and wet grass, and in seeingher notice and pretend not to notice. I smiled, suddenly having enough appetite to take a large bite of my pastry.
When I had finished eating, I made my way to the east hall, where the Followers were sprawled on chairs or carpets. A few of them shot curious glances my way. Although I saw them out of the corner of my eye, I kept my gaze fixed on the one I presumed to be the leader—the one I had seen speak to Milady.
The Priest of this band of Followers sat with their back against the wall and eyes closed, seemingly lost in thought. I put a nervous hand to my Hair, making sure it was behaving itself, and cleared my throat.
The Priest opened their eyes. They had very light eyes, more gray than blue, and hair white and fine as a dandelion clock.
“Priest,” I said, and curtsied. The Priest inclined their head.
“You are the daughter of the house?” they said.
“No. Well … in a way. Milady is my … guardian, of a sort.”
“I see.”
“I wish to join you,” I said in a rush. “Is that possible?”
The Priest’s eyes widened a fraction. “We turn no one away,” they said. “And all Followers are under the protection of the Temple. We cannot be harassed or pursued.” They peered at me shrewdly. “As you no doubt know.”
I let myself take a deep breath for the first time in hours. “Then I want to come with you when you leave today,” I said.
The Priest shrugged. “Of course. You understand that you will have to work and walk alongside us?”
“Yes.”
They eyed my gown. “It will not be the life to which you are accustomed.”
“I know that,” I said. “And luckily I am not really accustomed to it.”
