Page 13 of Heirs of the Cursed (A Curse for Two Souls #1)

12

Bellmare

The women of Bellmare laid their suspicious eyes on Naithea at every step she took. Like the rest of the hetairas, she’d been spat upon, vilified and harassed by those women, who looked down at her for her choice of work.

During her first month of work, Naithea had returned to the brothel with tears in her eyes. She’d managed to hold them back from being seen by her harassers and had reached the safety of her room before collapsing. Yet she’d learned to ignore the venomous stares and to turn a deaf ear to the citizens’ comments. Her body and how she decided to use it didn’t have to be a reason for criticism, but a power that she could exploit to her advantage in order to survive .

Naithea walked through the almost desolate streets with her head held high. Following the announcement of the Royal Army, most Bellmarians remained in their homes in fear of the soldiers’ inevitable visit.

The small pouch that hung from her hips brushed softly against her thigh, where the weighty glass vial containing lavender, cinnamon, and elliosil—a spice used to induce sleep—pulled on her shoulders after she’d paid five silver vramnias for it.

The magnificent and old structure of the library shortly rose before her.

As a child, her mother used to read stories she borrowed from the library about faraway kingdoms. Every night, Iseabail would bring a new book to read until Naithea fell asleep. Since then, she’d fallen in love with reading, with the worlds it offered, so different from the one she inhabited. But after her mother’s death, she’d vowed never to read again.

Stories are nothing but reminders that happy endings are a lie , she told herself, ascending the stone stairs.

A soft gasp escaped her parted lips at the sight of the tall marble doors, where the faces of the Triad were carved to protect the entrance. Naithea’s hands gripped the skirt of her dress tightly as she took another step forward. She was about to push open the door and walk inside when a smack on her hand stopped her from doing so.

She recoiled in surprise and frowned at the two men that had rapidly moved to block the library’s doors. They were taller than she was, their long brown beards tinged with white gray hairs.

“Excuse me, I need to get in,” Naithea said before trying again.

The man smacked her hand again, harder than before. She staggered, clutching her hand to her chest, nearly slipping down the steep steps in her surprise.

“You haven’t been given permission to do so,” the younger man spat.

“Pardon me?”

“You heard us,” growled the second, taking a step toward her. “Leave.”

“That will be a problem, because I must go in,” she insisted with the last shred of calm and kindness left within her. Naithea reached for the small bag, where one last silver vramnia lay, and offered it to them. “I’ll pay you. Here.”

The guards looked at her with disgust.

“Do you think you can buy us?” the old man asked and spat at her feet, so close to her boots that Naithea could have vomited at the sight of the whitish and greenish tones of his saliva. “We won’t spread our legs for a few coins like you, whore! Get out of my sight before I do something you’ll regret!”

“You should be ashamed to walk around here,” the young man added. “The goddesses would never allow a dirty whore into their temple!”

Naithea stifled a laugh.

The citizens had built all sorts of temples in honor of the three goddesses, sacred places where they gathered to lay offerings and pray in their names. She’d forgotten that libraries had become part of those sanctuaries as they held the knowledge of their birth and thus the creation of Laivalon.

“An ordinary man should never speak for the divinities,” a voice behind her declared.

Naithea turned her head to meet Commander Ward face to face. The leather suit clung to his muscular body, the faint marks along the fabric telling the tale of a life filled with battle and triumph. She lowered her boreal eyes to his right hand, which gripped the hilt of his sword—patient and menacing.

The men who had just offended her backed away.

“Commander,” one of them stammered before bowing in an uncomfortable curtsy. His companion soon followed his lead.

“May I know the reason why Miss Ausra isn’t allowed to access the library?”

“I-It’s a sa-sacred place, sir,” he stammered.

Ward tilted his head to one side to stare at her. “Under the starlight, one might mistake her for a goddess,” he stated. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She is.” Both men nodded in agreement, though they didn’t dare to look at her.

Despite Naithea’s body feeling heavy and her feet stuck to the ground, her skin burned as she watched the commander of the Royal Army hovering around them with the stealth of a predator. He halted behind their backs and offered her a devilish grin before resting his hands on their shoulders.

“Look at her like that again and your sight will become nothing but a memory,” Ward growled, his voice laced with a chilling promise of retribution.

“We are sorry,” one of them said shakily. “We . . .”

“Commander, that’s not necessary,” Naithea interceded.

Because it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Or maybe it was, and that was the first time anyone had done anything about the leering and repulsive comments they threw at her.

His blue eyes darkened as he said, “Better yet. Don’t look at her at all.”

With a not so gentle push, Ward released the men and urged them to leave. They staggered before collapsing to the ground on their bony knees and dirty hands, helping each other back to their feet as they ran away from him.

The commander took a step toward her, his gaze fixed on hers as if he were searching for the disgust she’d been unable to hide from him as well as the confident stand she’d held in his presence in the town square. But Naithea didn’t move, feeling a far more powerful emotion than fear stirring within her: dangerous approval.

Her power sang within her, calling that darkness to come out and play. She’d worked so hard to keep it at bay . . . She couldn’t afford to give in to it for even a second.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

The commander nodded.

Naithea cast him one last glance before pushing open the doors and entering the library, where tall dark structures divided the huge room with hundreds of corridors and where wooden staircases rose from the floor to the ceiling. Light streamed in through the windows and the sun’s rays provided a glimpse of a thin layer of dust floating in the air.

She closed her hand around the glass vial she’d bought, pacing through the endless aisles in search of ancient books that contained information of the Fallen Kingdom. Books that had probably been confiscated and burned a long time ago because of the enmity between the kingdoms.

“What’s that for?”

His warm breath caressed the back of her neck, and Naithea gasped as the vial slipped from her grip.

Ward caught it just mere inches from the floor, pausing to read the name of the tonic and its herbs. She snatched it from his hand before he could finish and tucked it back into her bag, where it would be safe. She’d paid more than she could afford for it, so breaking it wasn’t an option.

Naithea’s lips curled into a playful grin. “Are you afraid I might drug one of your soldiers, Commander?”

“If I didn’t doubt you, I wouldn’t be doing my job,” he replied. “Who is it for?”

“It’s for a friend,” she informed him and resumed her walk down the corridor without confirming that Ward followed her. “She hasn’t slept since your army arrived in the city.”

“Is one of my men to blame for that?” Ward asked with what seemed to be genuine interest.

All of them , she thought to herself.

Every step from the commander were four of Naithea’s. The dryad moved with patience and grace, scanning the library with his midnight-blue eyes in search of suspicious activity.

“You could say that.” Naithea turned to the right and stepped into one of the aisles. She gently slid her fingers along the thick, old spines of the books. The weight of his deep gaze lingered on her, and she added, “I appreciate your help, Commander, but I can take it from here.”

“What are you looking for?” he insisted.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s what I said,” she whispered, picking up a dusty book from its place and flipping through the contents, away from Ward’s gaze. “Do you want me to say it in the ancient tongue? Grajkou .”

Ward’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. “You speak saagrati.”

“Of course I do. It can come in handy when a man lies in your bed,” Naithea stated while placing the book back on the shelf.

Her quest was dangerous, but it was even more so with the commander of the Royal Army snooping around her. If she wanted to stay out of trouble, she had to get rid of him before he discovered her intentions.

“An old man,” he clarified. She wasn’t surprised; someone of Ward’s high rank would never lower himself to sleep with a whore.

“They pay well, better than most.”

“So why would you want to spend your free time learning anything else besides satisfying your clients?”

Naithea frowned and picked up a new book. “Because I’m a whore, I don’t have the right to educate myself?”

The question left the commander perplexed on the spot.

From the expression on his face, Naithea knew that Ward hadn’t expected her to refer to herself that way. Like any servant of the Crown, he was a liar, a murderer, and probably a sadist. Nothing would stop him from judging her for the acts she carried out to ensure her own survival, and yet he looked puzzled.

“I don’t—”

“May I speak freely, Commander?”

Ward nodded, seemingly intrigued by what she was about to say.

“You’re a pig. All men are pigs to believe that women are only useful for pleasure and procreation.” She took a step forward and gestured to the book in her hand. “But you see, a woman with knowledge is dangerous, because she has the power to destabilize an entire system.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, though his emotions were masked with a stoic expression. “To destabilize Lên Rājya’s system?”

Naithea shook her head and Ward stared at her, thoughtful. “I’d like to change Bellmare for the better. So that people wouldn’t starve. So that children could play instead of work,” she said with a deluded smile before fading back in reality. “So that women wouldn’t have to sell their bodies and lose their freedom. So that men like you wouldn’t take what doesn’t belong to them.”

“Why not take the whole kingdom, then?”

“Even if I wanted to, I could not. There are too many heirs to kill and it would ruin my nails,” she joked with an amused expression. “Especially if I have to search for the faceless heir that everyone loathes.”

Commander Ward tensed at her words and said with a deep voice, “I could cut out your tongue for what you said.”

Naithea laughed softly, indifferent to the threat the commander had made with raging fire in his eyes. She should be frightened, begging for his forgiveness, but the monster that lurked within her prompted her to answer something else instead.

“If I wanted the kingdom, Commander, I wouldn’t go for the prince with a hollow crown.” She closed the distance even further and, with their bodies brushing against each other in an almost illusory way, Naithea reached over to the side to pick up the next book. “I would go for the heartless king.”