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Admittedly, I was relieved to hear that. The idea of her just sitting there and taking it… “I wish you had.”

“If I had, she would’ve reported me. She’ll probably report you.”

“To the Duke? Let her.” I shrugged. “I can’t imagine that he’s okay with her striking the Maiden.”

She snorted. “You don’t know the Duke.”

The way she said that… “What do you mean?”

“He would probably applaud her,” Penellaphe remarked. “They share a lack of control when it comes to their tempers.”

It came together then, though part of me had already figured it out. I just didn’t want to consider it. “He’s hit you,” I bit out, aware of the servants’ nervous glances in our direction as they passed. “Is that what she meant when she said that you’d grown fond of the cane?” I grasped her arm, my mind flashing to those canes in his private office and how she’d been absent for days after meeting with him. And the smell of arnica…? Fucking gods, I was going to kill the bastard. “Has he used a cane on you?”

She jerked a bit and then pulled her arm free. “I didn’t say that.”

“What were you saying?”

“J-just that the Duke is more likely to punish you than he is the Priestess. I have no idea what she meant by the cane,” she quickly added. “She sometimes says things that make no sense.”

She wasn’t speaking the truth right now, but I knew. Fuck, I knew. The Priestess had hit her before. The Duke had caned her. She was accustomed to these punishments—punishments she didn’t want me to know about.

I went cold inside.

Not hollow or empty.

Icy rage filled me, and only by sheer effort did I stop myself from finding the Duke right then and ending his miserable, pathetic existence. I briefly closed my eyes. “I must’ve misread what you said then.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I just don’t want you to get into trouble.”

She was worried about me? Again? “And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” Penellaphe began walking again. “The Duke will just…give me a lecture, make it a lesson, but you would face—”

“I’ll face nothing,” I promised. And neither would she. I forced the tension out of my neck. “Is she always like that?”

Penellaphe sighed. “Yes.”

“The Priestess seems like a…” I couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. “A bitch. I don’t say that often, but I say it now. Proudly.”

A half-smothered laugh came from her. “She…she is something, and she’s always disappointed in my…commitment to being the Maiden.”

“Exactly how are you supposed to prove you are?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Better yet, what are you supposed to be committed to?”

Her veiled head turned to me sharply, and then she nodded. “I’m not quite sure. It’s not like I’m trying to run away or escape my Ascension.”

I glanced over at her as we entered a short, narrow hall full of windows. What an odd thing for her to say. “Would you?”

“Funny question,” she murmured.

“It was a serious one.”

Penellaphe didn’t answer, and my heart started thumping a bit erratically. Had she considered doing that? Running away from her Ascension? If so…

I watched her go to a window overlooking the courtyard. She was so quiet and still, appearing as if she were a spirit garbed in the white of the Maiden. Then she looked up at me.

“I can’t believe you’d ask that,” she finally said.

I moved so I stood behind her, keeping my voice low. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t do that,” she admitted, but there was no passion in her voice. Only hollowness. “I wouldn’t.”

My heart was still pounding. “It seems to me that this honor that has been bestowed upon you comes with very few benefits. You’re not allowed to show your face or travel anywhere outside the castle grounds. You didn’t even seem all that surprised when the Priestess moved to strike you. That leads me to believe it’s something fairly common. You are not allowed to speak to most, and you are not to be spoken to. You’re caged in your room most of the day, your freedom restricted. All the rights others have, are privileges for you, rewards that seem impossible for you to earn.”

She opened her mouth but only looked away. I couldn’t blame her for that.

“So, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did try to escape this honor,” I told her.

“Would you stop me if I did?” she asked.

Hell, no. I’d hold the door for her. I stiffened. What was I thinking? My heart raced now. “Would Vikter?”

“I know Vikter cares about me. He’s like…he’s like I imagine my father would have been if he were still alive,” she said. “And I’m like Vikter’s daughter, who never got to take a breath. But he would stop me.”

He would.

And so should I if she were to do that in the next two days. I needed her—