Page 12 of Degradation

She frowns, glancing over my shoulder like she expects there to be something forbidden there, like she expects the very devil to be sat on the bench, holding out a shiny apple to tempt me.

When she sees there’s nothing, she lets out a deep sigh. “We need to get you bathed.” She says, like I’m an infant unable to do anything for myself.

“Bathed?” I repeat.

She nods, wrapping her arm around me in what feels like a loving gesture, but it also feels like one of restraint. “Now that you’ve been elevated, you have to have daily baths, in holy water, right up until the ceremony. It helps purify you. It helps wash away your sins.”

It’s hard not to roll my eyes at that. What sins could I possibly commit while I’ve been here, under her and my uncle’s watchful gaze for almost the entirety of my life?

I keep that comment to myself as she leads me through to where my suite is.

Rebecca stands, waiting for us, with her hands clasped in front of herself, and her head bowed. I can hear the water bubbling away as it fills the tub.

“You know your orders.” My mother says dismissively.

Rebecca nods, moving quickly to leave but at the door, I can feel her steal a glance my way. I can feel the weight of it. And I can feel something else lurking underneath it – is it sympathy? Is it concern? I don’t have time to dwell on whatever it is because my mother is chattering away, sounding far chirpier than she has in years.

She pulls down the zip on my dress, eases it off my body and tells me to get in.

I do as I’m told, wincing slightly at the heat of the water.

“It has to be that hot,” She says gently. “The heat helps with purifying.”

I meet her gaze and again, say nothing.

A knock at the door gets both of our attention and my eyes widen with shock as a man, a priest walks in.

“Is she ready?” He asks, speaking to my mother, as if I’m incapable of having any thoughts of my own.

My mother smiles, inclining her head. “She is.” She replies.

The Priest motions for her to move out the way and my fear erupts as this man, this stranger walks right up to me, as he stares at me, at my nakedness.

“What is going on?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Be silent.” The Priest says immediately. “A woman’s tongue is filled with lies.”

I frown, feeling even more confused, and in truth, more horrified. What the hell is going on? I’m being treated like I’ve done something abominable. Something deserving of punishment.

My mother lifts her hand to get my attention and silently she gestures at me to lay back, to be obedient.

The Priest moves about, sprinkling herbs and oils into the water. They fill the room with a fragrance that is almost bewitching.

When he reaches my head, he starts chanting, speaking a language I don’t understand, saying words that to me, hold no meaning. But I feel as he places his hand on my head, as he pushes hard enough that I’m dunked under the surface.

I barely manage to hold my breath as the water rushes over me, as those herbs that smelt so nice now rush up my nose, now stick to my skin.

He twists his hand in my hair, using it as an anchor to control my movements.

When I breach the surface, I can’t help but gasp.

“Be quiet.” He admonishes again before he submerges me once more.

My hands jerk out, my feet kick and I know water must be sloshing everywhere but I can’t help it.

When he’s finally finished, he’s dunked me so many times, I’ve lost count. My hair covers my face, that heavily scented water streams down and now the perfume feels suffocating.

The Priest struts to the end of the tub where my feet are and he stares down at my body, almost leering at my breasts.