Page 68

“No! Matthias, you can’t accompany me to thebaths.” She rolled her eyes. “Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Matthias looked unsure, but he stepped back to his post outside her door.

Ryn headed down the hall toward the women’s bath chambers, listening to the chatter seeping down the hallways from the atrium. She ignored it as she rounded the bend. Her arms and legs were itchy from the dried fruit juice, and she wondered what sort of condition her bed was in after she’d slept in it like this.

“Maiden.” Ryn looked up as she entered the atrium. She was at the edge of the great glass room, not in everyone’s view, but where enough people could see her. She crossed her arms to hide her spoiled dress and kept her head low.

Damon stood there, eyeing her attire. “Did you roll around on a table of food?” he guessed.

Ryn took inventory of those nearby. She stepped left so the fountain would obstruct the view between her and a group of nobles. “It’s none of your business,” she said. “I’m on my way to the baths. Excuse me.” She moved to pass him, but Damon took hold of her sleeve. She lurched to a halt when he didn’t let go and her sleeve nearly slipped off her shoulder and revealed her bare skin to the room.

A choice word burned on her tongue as she turned back, but the words locked in her mouth when she found Damon hovering close, his purple lips right by her ear.

“Are you trying to run away from me, Lady Estheryn?” he asked quietly. He tugged her sleeve again, forcing her to brush up against him so it wouldn’t slide off.

The servants throughout the atrium parted, standing at attention. Ryn’s gaze snapped to them, and her gut recoiled when she spotted Xerxes coming their way, his brows furrowed, his jaw set. It was the first she was seeing him since…

Since…

Ryn took hold of her sleeve and yanked, but Damon held tight. She glanced to the hallway, toward her chambers. The sage bit back a smile and leaned in ever so slightly like they were sharing a secret. He did nothing else; he just stayed that way.

Xerxes passed by them. He looked indifferent, focused on something else. It was just the brief dart of his gaze over to Damon’s back that made Ryn flinch.

Xerxes’s stare was ahead again when he marched out the front doors of the palace and into the gardens with several dozen Folke trailing him. Ryn’s shoulders dropped in relief. He hadn’t seen her while she was such a mess, hadn’t spotted her this close to Damon and formed the wrong idea—not that it mattered, she realized. Xerxes had gotten serious about choosing a queen, and Ryn was just the maiden he needed for a cure.

Ryn leaned forward to peer out the lobby’s front entrance where he left. No, she hadn’t wanted him to see her. But still, her chest grew hollow when she thought of how he hadn’t even noticed she was standing right there.

She tore Damon’s fingers off her sleeve; he let it go this time. A slow, crawling smile found his mouth. “Enjoy your bath, Maiden,” he said. It left a dirty feeling over Ryn’s skin as he turned and left.

She shuddered and headed for the baths, not stopping again even when servants noticed her dress and asked her questions.

She spent two hours scrubbing herself clean, and still never felt clean enough.

The air grew chilly. Rising winds dried Ryn’s hair as dark storm clouds rolled over the garden. Rain covered the Mother City in the distance, and it would reach the palace soon—the distant echo of pattering drops swept in.

“El,” she whispered. “Tell me how to silence his voices so I can leave.”

The wind was too loud for anyone to hear her prayers, even if others had been in the garden.

A warm, breezy embrace surrounded her amidst the cold. She closed her eyes, letting it soothe her aches and worries.

“It’s not about his voices, Adassah. It’s about all the other things you’ll do first.”

She opened her eyes and chewed on her lower lip. Then she tugged at her damp hair.

“Ryn!” Heva called from her chambers window high above. “Come up for a fighting lesson!”

“Here?” Ryn asked in dismay.

“In your rooms! It’s not like we can go to the First Temple anyway! And it’s going to rain soon so the garden will be full of mud—”

“All right, all right! Just stop shouting!” Ryn waved at her. She looked around the garden for witnesses, then she climbed back up to her rooms.

“Which skill are you choosing for the senses trial?” Heva asked as Ryn pulled herself over the windowsill. Heva fetchedEl’s sword from the wardrobe and went to a large woven sack on the floor. She opened it and began pulling out armour plates.

“I don’t know,” Ryn admitted. “What’s all that?”

“It’s my spare armour. I’m not going easy on you this time,” Heva stated, “so you should wear this. Otherwise, everyone at the senses trial will wonder why you’re covered in bruises.”