Page 26 of Insolence (Eisha’s Hidden Codices #1)

Itissa

O nce indoors again, we find various handmaidens directing everyone to new accommodations based upon our freshly awarded roles.

The betrothed girls are separated and led away somewhere beyond the atrium. Sadrie, Cordelia, and I alone are led back upstairs.

We climb all the way to the fourth floor, where our rooms are situated in a row. Mine is located almost directly in front of the shadowy hallway where the Screamer was dragged.

A shudder goes through me, and I do my best to shut out the memory.

My new room is twice the size of my last one and contains a cozy sitting area with a fully stocked bookshelf, a desk under a leaded casement window, and a fireplace with a fire already crackling away.

The sitting room is separated from the sleeping area by an open archway hung with a heavy curtain, like in Elodie’s rooms.

The bedroom is furnished with a narrow canopied bed draped in voile. A wooden trunk with wrought iron hardware rests against the near wall. A porcelain washbasin occupies the spot under the bedroom window. Against the far wall stands a wardrobe bursting with beautiful clothes.

L ater in the evening, I prepare to attend the celebration.

I find a dress in my wardrobe that seems the right mix of practical elegance.

I try it on to find the black bodice hugs my waist and breasts perfectly.

The skirt skims below my knees, its gauzy gray overlay moving dreamily with every step.

There’s a smart black capelet on the same hanger that I debate wearing at first, but I like the way the fabric drapes my shoulders and decide to keep it on.

Lilting harp music mingles with the fountain’s burble while I make my way down to the atrium. Although concern for the Screamer still tugs at the corners of my mind, a sense of gratitude and—dare I acknowledge it?— optimism for the future has mostly replaced the earlier chaos brewing within me.

I come to an abrupt halt when I get closer to the festivities.

Betrothed women mill about, talking quietly in clusters. All of them are now clad in long black dresses with white lining the necklines and hems of their skirts and sleeves. Sheer veils cover their heads, hanging over their faces and reaching down their backs.

“Hello, songbird!” Sadrie’s voice rings out, taking me by surprise.

“Gods, Sadrie.” I clutch my chest and turn. “Why do you call me that?”

“Because you’re about as high-maintenance as those pampered finches. And it always gets your attention. I hardly need a reason beyond that,” she winks, bumping my shoulder with hers. “You ready to revel in the ‘benevolent joy of Eisha’s will’?”

“I suppose so,” I chuckle. “Where’s Cordelia?”

“Off talking to Lady Maida. Which means I’m your problem now.” Sadrie flashes her most enchanting smile, lashes fluttering, as she slips her arm through mine.

She’s stunning in her burgundy lace dress. The color contrasts perfectly with her yellow-blonde curls, the fitted bodice and full, knee-length skirt accentuating her wickedly delightful curves in a way that flushes me with heat.

Tin lamps hang from the branches of potted trees, casting their charming glow as we stroll around the room together. The moon is rising but not yet visible through the glass dome. Its otherworldly light pours through, silvering leaves and blossoms and the fountain’s rippling water.

If not for the horde of women dressed like phantasms, the atmosphere might be downright charming. I’m trying to ignore it, but several of them glance at us, whispering as we make our rounds.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re deliberately keeping out of our way,” I say.

“Maybe they’ve been told to keep their distance,” murmurs Sadrie. “Didn’t we hear something about the betrothed and acolytes not mixing much?”

I shrug, bewildered. “Oh, look up there!” I point toward the dome, where a dozen finches rise into the air, fluttering and quarreling.

“A lot of them seem to have found their way back indoors, haven’t they?” Cordelia’s voice comes from behind us.

We turn, and Sadrie breaks into adorable laughter at the plump finch perched on Cordelia’s outstretched hand. Cordelia herself is radiant in tones of smokey taupe and deep purple that bring out her eyes.

“They’re practically pets at this point,” I say, although I’m sure Elodie would disagree. “Personally, I wouldn’t be forfeiting my freedom, but I’m not a sacred bird.”

At that, Sadrie’s hand snakes around me to discreetly squeeze my hip. Delight zings through me, and I turn to meet her sidelong grin. Reminded of her cute pet name for me, my heart flutters.

Sideboards have been brought out from the dining hall. They line one side of the atrium, groaning under a variety of glazed pastries, sugared fruits, cured meats, and sliced cheeses.

Imogen and Kiera are attending to the drinks and shooing the odd, bold bird away from the food. Imogen calls out when she sees us, and they both congratulate us on our new positions.

“Did you enjoy the lottery?” I ask.

Imogen claps her hands. “Yes! I want to do it again!”

“It was her first one,” says Kiera.

“I thought as much,” I say.

“You’re a bundle of energy, aren’t you?” Sadrie smiles at Imogen.

“You have no idea,” sighs Kiera, looking very put-upon. “She’s been too excited all day long.”

Cordelia squats to be closer to Imogen’s level. “I was excited for the lottery, too.”

Giggling, the little girl flashes her gap-toothed grin.

“So I’ve been wondering.” I lean closer to Kiera and lower my voice. “Where did the betrothed girls go this afternoon? I saw them being led away right after the lottery. Now it seems like the three of us are the only ones in the whole building, but that’s clearly not the case.” I gesture around us.

“Underground,” says Kiera. “From now on they’ll sleep in their private quarters below the atrium.”

Below the atrium? I look to my friends, but they’re just as confused.

Imogen nods emphatically, pointing toward the ground. “They have their own guards down there, and the guards have daggers .” Her brown eyes twinkle, as if she thinks daggers are the best thing ever.

“Might we be able to speak to the Five when they get here?” asks Cordelia.

Kiera snorts. “Oh, they’re not attending.”

“They’re too important to stick around with the likes of us,” says Imogen in a way that makes me think she’s repeating something she overheard.

“Well, what are they doing tonight?” asks Sadrie. “I’m assuming the prioress is here somewhere.”

“She is!” chirps Imogen. “I just saw her…” She rises on tiptoes, glancing around.

Kiera says, “They’re well on their way back to their homes.”

“That’s it?” says a perplexed Sadrie, hands on her hips. “They traveled so far to spend only a few hours?”

“Seems awfully inconvenient,” agrees Cordelia, rising to her full height.

“No, that’s silly,” says Kiera, filling three tumblers with lemonade from an impressive glass dispenser. “If you’re that rich and powerful, there’s no such thing as inconvenience.”

The three of us exchange looks and laugh. Fair enough.

We accept our drinks as Ghisele and Lady Maida approach, deep in conversation. Cordelia breaks off from our group to join theirs, leaving Sadrie and me to continue our rounds.

The air is humid from lush plants and uncomfortably warm from too many bodies packed in. It soon becomes stifling, and I fan myself, sweat prickling my scalp.

“Let’s find some fresh air.” Sadrie lifts my almost-empty glass from my hand and sets it down along with hers.

I trail her through the crowd, pausing when we arrive at the mouth of a hallway to cast one last long glance at the atrium.

Handmaidens bustle between groups of attendees, carrying trays laden with treats and drinks. Ghisele, Maida, and Cordelia are near the fountain now, nibbling and talking. To my surprise, Cordelia breaks into a fit of laughter at something Ghisele says.

And here I thought that shrew was incapable of humor.

Elodie, however, is still nowhere to be seen. I haven’t caught a trace of her since she fled the ceremony this afternoon.

Sadrie hisses in my ear, “I haven’t seen your pretty priestess all night. I’m afraid you’ll have to sniff her out if you’re craving her attention.”

I scoff in mock insult, my face flushing. “You don’t know what I’m looking for. And I’ve already got plenty of attention from you , haven’t I?”

She looks me up and down. “You’re a bad liar, Tiss.”

“Noted,” I say, grabbing her shoulders. I turn her around and shove her forward, marching us both into the cooler air of the hallway. “And it’s precious that you think she’d give me two minutes of her time.”

“I’m sure whatever happened between you two will smooth over sooner or later.” Sadrie turns around, walking backward and pulling me further down the dim hallway with her. “You can’t seem to stay away from each other for long.”

“Oh, shut up,” I mutter, afraid I might combust from embarrassment.

“Gods, you’re adorable when you’re flustered, though.” She winks and pulls me into a deeply recessed alcove near the handmaidens’ quarters where there’s a window seat.

“So glad you're having fun riling me up.”

The intensity in her gaze lights a blue-hot fire under my skin. “I haven’t begun having fun with you, Tiss.”

She grabs me around my waist, my wrist clasped in her other hand, and pulls me to the window seat with her.

"Sadrie!" I yelp, flinging my arms around her as she guides me squarely and firmly on top of her lap. My head whips around to scan the hallway, every molecule of my body attuned to our surroundings. “You’re going to cause a scene.”

“Yeah? And?” Her grin is impishly evil.

“ And we’re going to get caught.” Thankfully, only warbling harp music and the odd spate of laughter drift to us.

Unperturbed, she only nuzzles into my neck, her lips and the tip of her nose tracing maddening lines on my skin. “Something about you makes me feel shamelessly impulsive. It’s wonderful.”

“It won’t be so wonderful winding up in temple jail. Or wherever it is they throw deviants like us.”