Taking the book, Osstendler ran her hand over the leather cover. “Nice.” She laid it open on the table, picked up a cheese pasty, and pointed to the first letter. “What’s this letter?” When Ailith gave her the answer, she flipped the page, waiting for Ailith to say the letter before turning to the next. This continued until they came to one she hadn’t learned yet.”

  “That’s where I got to, and then Jenx said I needed to learn those ones what change sounds so I could start learnin’ to read words. But those confuse me. They can sound like what th’ letters name is, or they sound like somethin’ else completely.” Ailith paged back to the first letter. “Here’s one.” She flipped through the pages until she came to the next and the next, pointing to each one as she went. “But Lady Sábria sat with me a couple of times while I were in th’ Healer Hall, and she helped me some. It’s slow goin’, but I’ll learn.”

  Osstendler pointed to the pasties. “Have some.”

  “Nai. Fowk. Sorry. No, thank you. That’s yer meal.”

  “I had a friend who came from Dreyutha. I understand that offering someone part of your meal is a sign of respect. Well, I respect you for wanting to learn to read. So, eat.” She picked up one for herself and bit off the end.

  Ailith just sat and blinked at the food. She couldn’t believe a Prime was offering to share her meal with her. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it again. Hesitantly, she picked up one of the pasties and took a bite. The honor the woman was giving her was more than she deserved, and she could feel her face flush a bright red because of it.

  When the Prime finished her meal and downed the last of her ale, she rubbed her hands together to get rid of any stray crumbs and stood. “Now, let’s get you to the shop so you can finish your work.”

  After a brief, friendly exchange with Master Lowenbrow, the Prime left the shop and walked down the street, stopping to chat with people she met along the way. What a difference the woman was to her own Prime, but Ailith knew she was more suited to Prime Geller’s gruff leadership than to Osstendlers quieter ways.

  When the bells tolled three times, Ailith climbed off her ladder and waved to Master Lowenbrow, who was busy helping a customer.

  He waved cheerfully and called out much, much louder than necessary. “Bye, Ailith. See you again soon.”

  His cheerful grin was infectious, and she found herself smiling even after she stepped out onto the sidewalk. For two candlemarks, she’d been having a private argument with herself about how stupid she was to even consider returning to Lady Farryn’s home.

  As she stared at the blue building across the street, the mental arguments resumed. The Knight had said Lady Sábria was upset with her for some reason. Wasn’t that enough of a reason to walk away?

  On the other hand, the two of them together had been incredible. Their bodies fit perfectly in all kinds of interesting and satisfying ways. Just thinking about some of them made her juices flow, and she pulled in a breath, hoping to get her body under control.

  “Waiting for an invitation?”

  Ailith spun to her left, kicking herself for being so preoccupied that she hadn’t even registered the Lady Knight leaning against the wall watching her. “Fowk. Don’t do that. Ya scared th’ shite outta me. What are ya doin’ there, anyway?”

  “I was worried you might be having second thoughts about coming over.”

  “I was. I am.”

  “Why?” Since they were standing out in public, Ryn didn’t come any closer. But her gaze locked onto Ailith’s with both amusement and concern in her eyes.

  “Well, yer a noble. Plus, ya said Lady Sábria’s angry with ya fer some reason, and that worries me.”

  Ryn shrugged, “I can’t help being a noble. And as far as the Arch Priestess, I think once we meet and talk about what happened down at the docks, she’ll be fine. Plus, I keep thinking about yesterday when we almost fell off the sofa.”

  A picture formed in Ailith’s mind, a memory, really, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Well, I have to admit, that’s been playin’ on me own mind as well.” A flutter started between her legs, and trying to ignore it just wasn’t in the cards.

  Ryn watched the blood rush up Ailith’s neck and into her cheeks and raised her brows. “Care to try again?”

  Ailith grinned, “We did more than try, Milady.”

  Pushing off the wall, Ryn crossed the road with Ailith close on her heels. They barely made it into Ryn’s room before they were out of their clothes and repeating the moves that had been so successful the day before.

  This time, after two full candlemarks of learning just how versatile Ryn’s tongue, fingers, and breasts could be, Ailith didn’t allow herself to fall asleep. This time she was walking through the side gate as the sixth-candlemark bell chimed.

  Marzet, a dawning shift Blade who’d been assigned gate guard duty while Tanna recuperated in the infirmary, gave a single nod when she passed. “Lady Sábria said you need to meet her in her office after you see Master Healer Haria.”

  Ailith looked at the small section of the Citadel’s wall she could see from where she stood. “Did she say why?”

  “Stupid question.”

  A stupid question since everyone knew Sábria believed in keeping people’s business private. “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks.”

  The Master Healer didn’t have much to say except that she was concerned that all the walking Ailith was doing seemed to be making her pulled muscles worse instead of better. Ailith nodded obediently and said she’d try to rest more than she had been and that she’d slow down her walking speed if the Master thought that might help.

  The odors wafting out of the dining hall assailed her senses as she left the infirmary. Marzet had said Sábria wanted to see her after she’d been to the healer, so she pushed the idea of freshly baked bread slathered in butter to the back of her mind and walked to the Citadel. When she walked into the outer office, Shirin was reading through a stack of reports. She looked up and nodded. “Wait here.”

  Ailith set herself into the rest position and waited while Shirin stepped into the Arch Priestess’ office. After a few moments, she reappeared. “Inside.”

  Sábria was seated at her desk, writing on a sheet of parchment. Ailith came to attention and waited. When the scratching stopped, Sábria looked up at her shiv. “I seem to be getting all manner of reports about you, Ailith.”

  Since that hadn’t been a question, Ailith remained silent.

  “The healers tell me the pulled muscle in your leg is getting worse instead of better. Since I didn’t specifically confine you to the Temple, I can’t complain about your walks to the Clayborn district. Where is it you’re going again?”

  There was no doubt in Ailith’s mind Sábria knew exactly where she’d gone. “To a bookstore called, Between th’ Covers.”

  The Priestess sat back and held Ailith’s gaze. “Interesting name for a bookstore.”

  Ailith was no fool and knew Sábria wasn’t either. “Aye, Milady.”

  “And you’re dusting books, I understand.”

  “Aye, Milady.”

  “Are you getting between the covers anywhere else?”

  Ailith figured Sábria would get to that eventually. She swallowed and licked her lips. What she was about to say would either protect Ryn’s privacy or get Ailith a beating, something she wasn’t looking forward to. “Milady, what was Emlyn doin’ this afternoon? Or Dela, or Ladin, or Pirella, even? I assume yer askin’ them th’ same kinds of questions, or is it just me?” She left off the words, “That you don’t trust,” but they were implied.

  The room was so silent that Ailith heard the rustle of Shirin’s clothing as she leaned against the wall near the door. To her surprise, Sábria picked up the quill and began writing again. A bead of sweat trickled down Ailith’s spine while she stood at attention, waiting for the hammer to fall.

  While she wrote, Sábria said, “When anything happens between a noble and a peasant, Ailith, it’s never the noble who gets hurt.”

  “Aye, Milady.”

  “You’re not a child. But you’re one of my shivs, and I’m very, very protective of my shivs.” She dipped the tip of the quill into the ink pot and continued to write. “Be very careful, Ailith.”

  The way she spoke of her protectiveness made Ailith wonder whether Prime Osstendler stepping in when the city guard had stopped her had been a coincidence or something else. “I always am, Milady.”

  Sábria paused and, without raising her head, looked into Ailith’s eyes. “Your nose was broken a while back. Why was that?”

  The nob had gotten in a lucky blow precisely because Ailith hadn’t been careful. Ailith squinted and lifted one shoulder. “I guess I should say I usually am, Milady.”

  Sábria went back to scratching on her parchment. “Dismissed.”

  When they heard the outer door close, Shirin stepped forward and hitched her hip onto the arm of the sofa that sat near Sábria’s desk. “She had a point, you know. She’s allowed to have a life outside the Temple. We shouldn’t treat her any differently than we treat the other shivs.”

  Sighing, Sábria set down the quill, leaned back, and rubbed her tired eyes. Crossing her arms, she decided she needed to open up to Shirin about how she saw Ailith and the part they needed to play in her life. “Yes, she’s allowed a life. But, Shirin, her life, her previous life, I mean, was completely different from any other shiv we’ve had here. Other shivs worry about getting into trouble with us or with the Primes. Most of them are even terrified of the Blades until they become full Blades themselves. Some, like Emlyn, walk on eggshells for fear they’ll break some protocol or offend us somehow. Others are terrified of doing something wrong and getting punished for it. That fear alone keeps them under control, keeps them safe, for the most part, from doing something foolish.”

  It was true that most shivs, and Blades for that matter, walked on eggshells around Sábria. Shirin expected that and reinforced it.

  Sábria continued, “How many shivs would tell the Commander she’s older than dirt? Trouble finds Ailith, and without meaning to, she embraces it. When she first came to us, I paid attention to the way Duke Ravenkind described her. He used words like a handful, strong-willed, abrasive, has a temper. But he also said she was one of the most unique warriors he’d ever had the privilege to train. I didn’t understand his meaning at the time, but he said it wasn’t that she tries to be different. She just is. He warned me that I needed to keep on top of her, especially in the beginning, or I’d regret it later on. I took his words to heart.”

  “And what was that about a noble and a peasant?”

  “She and Lady Knight Farryn have been spending the afternoons together.”

  That was surprising enough that Shirin blurted out, “Doing what?”

  Sábria raised her brows, “Do you honestly think that walking to the Clayborn District is the reason the pulled muscle on the inside of Ailith’s thigh is getting worse rather than better?”

  Shirin’s mouth dropped open as she stared in disbelief at her Arch Priestess. Eventually, she shoved her thumb and forefinger into her eyes and pushed. Hard. “Oh, Great Goddess.”

  “Exactly.”

  Not having any more to say, Shirin rose and started for the door.

  “Shirin.”

  The Commander stopped and looked back at her friend, who had a glint of amusement shining in her eyes. “Emlyn took a book to the park in Miller’s District and read for several candlemarks. Dela spent the afternoon in the stables working with the new colt. Ladin was down at the tables in the courtyard writing letters to family and friends, and Pirella had remedial swordwork with Ursuna, who awoke early so she could give her extra instruction.”

  Shirin held up her hands in surrender and laughed. “Okay, okay, you win. You watch out for them equally. I guess it’s Ailith’s actions and the consequences of those actions that make it seem like you’re singling her out for special treatment. It’s a good thing Elyon knew what she was doing when she put that ring on your finger.” She shook her head and continued to chuckle as she pulled the door closed and returned to the bottomless pile of paperwork on her desk.

  CHAPTER 31

  Sábria had been meeting with Prya several times each day, helping her work through much of the emotional trauma she’d suffered. After killing the first King, her life had been a series of upheavals until she’d managed to place Denaro, the current King of Olarna, on the throne.

  As if that weren’t enough, she’d been alternately reviled as the King Slayer or worshipped as the Olarnian protector of the downtrodden until she’d had to leave her homeland and those she considered family, probably having to leave them behind forever. Sábria had worked with many damaged souls in her time, but Prya seemed to have internalized her role in killing the three Kings and their champions to the point where self-loathing had begun to seep into her psyche.

  The more she got to know the woman, the easier it was to understand how this gentle soul who had accomplished so much could be so close to an emotional breakdown. Only that morning, they’d had a breakthrough when Prya admitted that she’d been moments away from picking up a rock and drowning herself when Ailith had swum out to her, offering to lead her to safety. Sábria had gathered her in her arms and held her while all the pain and anguish of the past several turns rushed out on a tide of tears and words spewing forth from deep within Prya’s damaged soul.

  She hadn’t seen Prya at dinner that evening and had picked up a clay jar of scented oil on her way back to the Sanctum. Heating the oil to the perfect temperature was a mindless task for her, one she’d performed so many times that she didn’t have to think about lighting the brazier and setting the small platform at just the right height to achieve the desired results.

  When the temperature was exactly right, she took the jar by its handle and walked the few doors down to the guest suite where Prya was staying. Sábria knocked gently and smiled when Prya met her with a book in her hand. “More reading? Something more uplifting, I hope, than Wolf of the Breaking Heart.”

  Prya returned the smile and opened the door wider, inviting Sábria to enter. She held up the book. “Well, not much.”

  Sábria read the title and then held her hands out to her sides. “Really, Prya? The Haunting of the Eclipse? How in the name of the Goddess do you think that’s even a tiny bit appropriate when we’re working to get you back on your feet again emotionally?”

  Sighing, Prya set the book on a side table. “I don’t know. I just can’t get the idea out of my mind that I’m responsible for so many deaths.”

  “So, you fill your mind with tales of specters of the underworld returning to haunt decent people until they either go mad or commit suicide? I thought we’d moved beyond that.” She picked up the book. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to exercise my prerogative as Elyon’s Voice. Well, I’m going to do it even if you do mind.” She tossed the book into the flames that were licking the walls of the corner fireplace and watched with satisfaction as it turned into a pile of wilting parchment.

  When she turned back to Prya, the amusement she saw in those eyes was a welcome change to what she’d all too often seen on prior occasions.

  “Well, how do you really feel about the book, My Lady?”

  Sábria shook her head and smiled affectionately at her new friend. “Bah, Child. What am I going to do with you?”

  “I’m hardly a child.”

  “You are to me. Now,” she held up the clay jar, “are you shy about taking off your clothes so I can show you one of my small talents? After you’ve had one of my massages, you’ll never be satisfied with a normal masseuse again.”

  Prya blinked several times and then raised her brows. “Seriously? The Arch Priestess of the Daughters of Elyon gives massages to people she barely knows?”

  “Not only do I give massages, but learning the art of therapeutic manipulation is a requirement for those who serve Elyon’s Blades in the capacity of their Arch Priestess. I’m responsible for my Blades’ emotional, mental, and physical well-being, and since Elyon considers you one of her own, I’m responsible for nurturing all three of those aspects in you, as well. However, it’s completely voluntary, and I understand that many cultures consider nudity offensive and even conceive their children in total darkness.”

  Prya scratched the top of her nose as she merged her beliefs about the roles of an Arch Priestess with this multidimensional woman she’d been fortunate enough to run into at a shabby alehouse called the Broken Tooth. Although now that she thought about it, there’d been too many coincidences for her to deny that the Goddess had something to do with bringing Sábria into her life. And if the Goddess had brought her here, perhaps she should embrace everything her Arch Priestess had to offer. “I’d be honored, My Lady. Um…?” She blushed as she glanced around, unsure of the protocol of undressing in front of an Arch Priestess.

  Chuckling, Sábria set the jar down and strode to the door. “I have some wonderful wine I forgot to bring, so if you’d care to undress and slip into your robe while I’m gone, that would be perfect.” When she returned, she was carrying a rolled-up mat and several towels under one arm and a bottle of wine, and two glasses in her free hand. Dropping the mat and towels on the floor, she poured them both a glass of wine and handed one to Prya, who was sitting on the sofa in the robe Mistress Dunaid had provided for her the first night she’d arrived. “Tafonti. You probably haven’t tasted this particular one before. It’s a white wine from my Temple in Frayham.”

  Prya sipped the wine and raised her brows. “It’s tasty, but I can already tell it’s potent. Are you trying to get me drunk, My Lady?”

  Laughing at the playful tone in Prya’s voice, Sábria grinned and set down her glass. “Well, if this puts you in your cups, we have more to talk about than simply discussing your horrendous choice of books.” She rose and laid out the mat, covering it with several towels. She shook her head and held up a finger, “I forgot the pillow.”