Page 47 of Insolence (Eisha’s Hidden Codices #1)

Itissa

M y graded exam lands on my desk the following Hyday.

“Well done, my dear,” smiles Lady Maida.

“I passed ?” I blurt. Just barely, from the looks of it. But I did.

Ghisele snorts audibly from two desks in front of me. Otherwise consumed in independent study, she’s angled over a botanical illustration, her free hand toying with one of her earrings.

“Congratulations, Tiss.” Cordelia says from her table in the middle of the room.

Sadrie says nothing from hers. She’s perusing her own graded exam, upon which she likely got a perfect score. From here I can see that Cordelia certainly did.

Nothing much has changed between us over the last few days. Sadrie’s still avoiding me when she can and freezing me out when she can’t; there’s no love lost there as far as I’m concerned.

The two of them spend most of their free time together. While I haven’t been dissuaded from joining them at mealtimes or prayers, Sadrie’s eschewal, combined with my still-simmering resentment and Cordelia’s (justified) annoyance, leads me to choose solitude more often than not.

“As a reward for passing your first exam, you’ll each be allowed to select a token of your own.” Elodie’s voice comes from behind me.

Meanwhile, the First High Priestess hefts a carved wooden box, carrying it from her beloved lectern to my desk.

She removes the lid to reveal a satin-lined interior, a selection of gleaming jewelry nestled within.

“Go ahead and pick a prize,” she says, the corners of her gray eyes crinkling.

“You might find that something in particular calls out to you.”

Items of all varieties glint under the weak light coming through the storm-streaked window: etched silver cuff bracelets, earrings and finger rings of all shapes and sizes, and necklaces strung with beads of polished hematite and other vividly colorful stones I can’t identify at a glance.

My hand hovers. Absolutely nothing is drawing me in, and I’m overwhelmed with choosing.

Elodie says, “Don’t be shy, Tiss. You earned it.”

My cheeks heating, I nudge items aside to pluck out a pendant of black stone framed in silver and strung on a silver chain. It’s surprisingly heavy for its size.

“Excellent choice,” says Lady Maida. “Obsidian is known to calm the mind and relieve emotional turmoil. It helps to soothe bodily stresses and remove negative energy.”

That feels… uncomfortably appropriate.

Ghisele’s shoulders shake like she’s enjoying a private chuckle, but she keeps her thoughts to herself. Sadrie and Cordelia select tokens of their own. While they’re deciding, I put on my jewelry.

The chain fastens in front by latching to a hook where the pendant is attached. I play with it, noticing I can adjust it where the obsidian rests in the hollow of my collarbone, the unused length of chain hanging between my breasts.

A silver disk on the chain’s end is stamped with Eisha’s emblem of finch and yew.

Sadrie chooses a beaded necklace, looping its generous length twice around her neck. Even so, the rich purple-blue beads fall to her ribs, the color complementing her eyes in a way that makes me ache just a little bit. A silver charm hangs from it, also stamped with Eisha’s emblem.

“Tumbled lapis,” says Maida of the beads. “This is a stone of powerful intuition, truth, and wisdom. It will help deepen self-connection.”

Cordelia picks out a delicate silver bracelet. Two charms dangle from the end of the adjustable chain: an aquamarine teardrop and the ubiquitous silver disc featuring yew tree and finch. She admires it on her fine-boned wrist.

“Aquamarine is a stone of truth.” Maida replaces the box's lid, moving to the front of the room. “It will help with balance and harmony and promote self-expression.”

Setting the carved box on the lectern, she turns to address us: “Did anyone feel a tug from the items you selected?”

Sadrie and Cordelia murmur in the affirmative. The only tug I feel is the taut tether between me and Elodie.

Our connection is stronger than usual today. My body thrills at the perplexing intimacy. I offer a shrug.

When our mid-morning break is called, Elodie addresses me while the others scatter for a snack or the washroom: “Tiss? Will you stay behind for a moment?”

She waits for Maida to usher a staring Ghisele out of the door before approaching my desk. “In the interest of keeping myself unpunctured and in one piece, I believe I owe you something.” She lifts one dark brow. “Do you know what you want to ask?”

“How many questions do I get?”

“Until I get tired of them.”

Is it me, or is there a little something extra in her gaze and the way she’s leaning close, one hand braced on my desk?

“I suppose you still don’t want to tell me what we talked about before the ritual?” I glance up at her through my lashes, wearing my coyest smile.

It’s a test. I’m poking her—dangling the inquiry to see how receptive she is.

From the sudden, mask-like cast to her features, not very. “Tiss—” She straightens.

“Only kidding.” I hold up a hand. “How about the Indigo & Veridian Accords? I’ve been curious about what they have to do with the lottery.” That’s a safe enough topic, right?

“I’ll gladly tell you that,” she says, her features relaxing. “You did well applying yourself for the exam. I’m proud of you, Tiss,” she intones, her voice indulgent.

“Thank you.” I pray my flush isn’t as obvious as it feels.

“Meet me in the flower greenhouse during lunch. Bring your food and we’ll eat together.” She hesitates, shifting her weight. “And don’t worry, Bibi won’t be there.”

R ain is coming down hard by the time I jog from our residence to the smallest of the three greenhouses, cradling my tin of piping hot lunch beneath my cloak.

A wall of muggy heat and the cloying stench of flowers hit me as soon as I enter. I lower my hood, raindrops spattering the flagstone flooring, and open my mouth to greet Elodie.

The sight of her is enough to steal my words before they have a chance to form.

The wrought iron table and two chairs have been cleared of gardening paraphernalia and arranged in front of the rose trellises.

The table is smothered beneath a blue-and-white checked tablecloth, plates of meat and cheese, what looks like a basket of fresh corn cakes, and various jars of foodstuffs I can’t yet identify.

But Elodie is the most enticing morsel of all, with her eyes fixed on me, her full lips slightly parted. The back of my throat aches with how damn beautiful she looks in her blouse and tweed skirt sitting in one of the chairs.

It’s all I can do to keep my gaze rooted to the roses behind her instead of shamelessly staring.

“Gods, I never get tired of seeing them,” I say, moving closer. “I don’t know how you get them to bloom like that in the middle of winter.”

She motions to the chair opposite her. “Sit.”

I settle at the table, setting down my tin of sausages and potatoes. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble,” I breathe, impressed with the spread.

There’s a plate heaped with bacon. The cheese is pale, creamy, and accompanied by toast wedges. Whatever wild notion possessed her to set this sweet little picnic up, she’s gone out of her way. There’s even a bottle of wine.

“It’s no trouble. Dig in, and we’ll talk about your question. First, do you remember reading about changelings in your workbook?”

“Of course.” I reach for a steaming corn cake and a jar filled with ruby-red jam. “Something about Eisha taking our humanity after we’re born, trading it for the ability to manipulate life-force.”

“In the old days this was a widespread belief, yes.” Elodie watches me lift the halved corn cake, slathered with jam, to my lips.

As soon as my teeth sink into the dense cake, a riot of flavor bursts on my tongue. Oh, my good gods. I’m in love. “Mmm.” Spicy-sweet and delectable, the pepper jam perfectly complements the fluffy, buttery corn cake.

The combination has my taste buds singing for more.

“Good?” she asks, and I nod. “I thought you’d enjoy spicy things.”

“Good guess.” I lick jam from the tip of my forefinger and suck my thumb clean before cramming another bite in my mouth.

“We know now that we’re born like this. So you can chalk that precious story up to folktales and superstition.

” She plucks a wedge of toast and scoops cheese onto her knife before leaning back in her seat.

“Doesn’t mean there aren’t people down there who still believe it.

Who view us as imposters among them. Call us witches and sorceresses.

” Her movements methodical, she spreads cheese over the toast. “They like that we’re locked away up here. Far from proper society.”

I start when she reaches across the table, offering the toast to me. “But they make journeys to see us. Priestesses carry out sacred rituals.”

“Some journey to the temple. Sure. And you’re right about the rituals, which take place thanks to tradition. Here, try some of these with it.” She stops me with the food halfway to my mouth by opening the other jar with a crisp snap .

Watching me closely, she pushes it across the table.

Are those blueberries? From the fruity-acidic fragrance, they’re pickled, too. My mouth watering, I spoon some on top of my cheese toast.

“Lots of folks are still superstitious. More than enough of them don’t trust us.”

“What does this have to do with the Accords?” I take a bite and stop, inhaling sharply as my eyes fall closed. Blessed Aodh, Father of Creation.

My hand flies to my lips, but it’s too late to stifle the obscene groan that emerges. “This should be illegal,” I murmur through the perfectly balanced explosion of sweet, sour, and savory.

Elodie’s gaze on me is intense, but not in the way that flays me open. Instead, it feels cherishing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she deliberately planned this meal around things I enjoy, but gods only know how or why .

“Aren’t you going to have any?”