I’d never seen the woman smile.
And she was definitely not smiling now as she looked over her shoulder at Hawke. “And how would you know?” Derision dripped from her tone like acid.
“My family originates from the farmlands not too far from Pompay, before the area was destroyed and became the Wastelands we know today,” he explained. “My family and others from that area have always pronounced the mountain range as the Maiden first said.” He paused. “The language and accent of those from the far west can be difficult…for some to master. The Maiden, however, appears to not fall into that group.”
I was confident that my eyes were about to pop out of my face in response to the obvious insult. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from grinning.
Priestess Analia’s already stiff shoulders jerked back as she stared at Hawke. I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. “I did not realize I asked for your thoughts,” she spoke, tone as withering as her stare.
“My apologies.” He bowed his head in submission, but it was the poorest attempt at it because his amber eyes all but danced with amusement.
She nodded. “Apology—”
“I just didn’t want the Maiden to sound uneducated if any discussion were to arise about the Skotos Mountains,” he tacked on.
Oh, my gods…
“But I will remain quiet from here on out,” Hawke said. “Please, continue, Maiden. You have such a lovely reading voice that even I find myself enthralled with the history of Solis.”
I wanted to laugh. It was building in my throat, threatening to burst free, but I couldn’t let it. My grip loosened on the edges of the book. “‘Which sat at the foot of the Skotos Mountains, the gods had finally chosen a side.’” When the Priestess said nothing, I continued. “‘Nyktos, the King of the gods, and his son Theon, the God of War, appeared before Jalara and his army. Having grown distrustful of the Atlantian people and their unnatural thirst for blood and power, they sought to aid in ending the cruelty and oppression that had reaped these lands under the rule of Atlantia.’” I took a breath.
“‘Jalara Solis and his army were brave, but Nyktos, in his wisdom, saw that they could not defeat the Atlantians, who had risen to godlike strength through the bloodletting of innocents—’”
“They killed hundreds of thousands over the time of their reign. Bloodletting is a gentle description of what they actually did. They bit people,” Priestess Analia elaborated, and when I looked up at her, there was a strange gleam to her dark brown eyes. “Drank their blood and became drunk with power—with strength and near immortality. And those they didn’t kill became the pestilence we now know as the Craven. That is who our beloved King and Queen bravely took a stance against and were prepared to die to overthrow.”
I nodded.
Her fingers were turning pink from how tightly she’d balled her hands where they rested in her lap. “Continue.”
I didn’t dare look at Hawke. “‘Unwilling to see the failure of Jalara of Vodina Isles, Nyktos gave the gods’ first Blessing, sharing with Jalara and his army the blood of the gods.” I shuddered. That was also another gentle term for drinking the blood of the gods. “Emboldened with the strength and power, Jalara Of Vodina Isles and his army were able to defeat the Atlantians during the Battle of Broken Bones, therefore ending the reign of the corrupt and wretched kingdom.’”
I started to turn the page, knowing the next chapter dealt with the Ascension of the Queen and the building of the first Rise.
“Why?” the Priestess demanded.
Confused, I looked over at her. “Why, what?”
“Why did you just shudder when you read the part about the Blessing?”
I hadn’t realized my action had been so noticeable. “I…” I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t irritate the Priestess and end with her running back to the Duke.
“You seemed disturbed,” she pointed out, her tone softening. I knew better than to trust that. “What is it about the Blessing that would affect you so?”
“I’m not disturbed. The Blessing is an honor—”
“But you shuddered,” she persisted. “Unless you find the act of the Blessing pleasurable, am I not to assume that it disturbs you?”
Pleasurable? My face flamed red-hot, and I was grateful for the veil. “It’s just that…the Blessing seems to be similar to how the Atlantians became so powerful. They drank the blood of the innocent, and the Ascended drink the blood of the gods—”
“How dare you compare the Ascension to what the Atlantians have done?” The Priestess moved quickly, leaning forward and gripping my chin between her fingers. “It is not the same thing. Perhaps you’ve grown fond of the cane, and you purposely strive to disappoint not only me but also the Duke.”
The moment her skin touched mine, I locked down my senses. I didn’t want to know if she felt pain or anything else.
“I didn’t say that it was,” I said, seeing Hawke step forward. I swallowed. “Just that it reminded me of—”
“The fact that you think of those two things in the same thought greatly concerns me, Maiden. The Atlantians took what was not given. During the Ascension, the blood is offered freely by the gods.” Her grip tightened, bordering on painful, and my gift stretched against my skin, almost as if it wanted to be used. “That is not something that I should have to explain to the future of the kingdom, to the legacy of the Ascended.”
For as long as I could remember, everyone said that—even Vikter—and it grated on my nerves and sat like a boulder on my shoulders. “The future of the entire kingdom rests on me being given to the gods upon my nineteenth birthday?”
Her already thin lips became almost non-existent.
“What would happen if I didn’t Ascend?” I demanded, thinking of the first Maiden. It hadn’t sounded like she’d Ascended, and everyone was still here. “How would that stop the others from Ascending? Would the gods refuse to give their blood so freely—”
I sucked in a sharp gasp as the Priestess cocked her hand back. It wouldn’t be the first time she had smacked me, but this time, the stinging blow didn’t land.
Hawke had moved so fast that I hadn’t seen him leave the corner. But now, he had the Priestess’s wrist in his grasp. “Remove your fingers from the Maiden’s chin. Now.”
Priestess Analia’s eyes had grown wide as she stared up at Hawke. “How dare you touch me?”
“How dare you lay a single finger on the Maiden?” His jaw flexed as he glared down at the woman. “Perhaps I was not clear enough for you. Remove your hand from the Maiden, or I will act upon your attempt to harm her. And I can assure you, me touching you will be the least of your concerns.”
I might’ve stopped breathing as I watched them. No one had ever intervened during one of the Priestess’s tirades. Tawny couldn’t. If she did, she would face worse, and I’d never expect nor want that. Rylan had often turned in the other direction, as did Hannes. Even Vikter had never been so bold. He’d usually find a way to interrupt, to stop the situation from escalating. But I’d been slapped on more than one occasion in front of him, and there was nothing he could do.