Page 123 of The Blade in the Ashes
Actually, I wasn’t sure if the dampness of my skin was sweat, blood, or some strange combination of the two.
“Leave her be,” George commanded behind her. “There’s a warrant from the castle for her. We’re taking her back where she belongs.”
Eloise glanced at him, her lips pinched with worry.
“Please,” I mumbled, the word bringing her gentle hands back to my brow. I tried not to flinch when her skin touched mine, but her frown deepened when I couldn't stop the panicked whimper.
“Marcus!” George gestured to the man who had killed Nessira. “Bind her hands for now. Then come help me clear out the wagon. We should head out while there’s still a decent amount of light left in the day. ”
He stalked outside, his order hanging in the air.
The sound of Marcus’ boots on the wooden floor was like that of war drums promising doom.
As Marcus stepped into my line of vision, I couldn’t help but notice the similarity between him and George. They both had the same deep-set eyes and sandy-colored hair. Brothers, maybe, or cousins.
Apparently, cruelty ran in the family because he ripped my arms together, not caring about the broken bone as he wrapped rope around my wrists. I cried out, a strangled and hoarse kind of groan, but no more tears fell. They had already dried out completely.
“You could be a little gentler!” Eloise chastised.
Marcus glared down at her. “We don’t need your assistance with this, Eloise.”
With a final sneer at me, he shoved his boot against my side, pushing me out of his path. For a second my vision went dark, the flash of agony threatening to drag me unconscious. I almost wished for it. I longed for the relief sleep might bring.
The door slammed shut after him. An eerie silence was all that remained when my whimpers of pain subsided.
In that moment, I would have liked to stay strong. I would have liked to maintain that fiery stubbornness that had once fueled all of myinteractions—to be the Goddess that so many people saw when they looked at me. But for the first time, it felt like that strength had well and truly been beaten out of me.
First, by the Dragon.
Then by Hyrax.
Now by these men.
And so, in the quiet that lingered after that door shut, I couldn’t stop the heaving sob that tore out of me.
I gasped through it, the rawness of it leaving my chest hollowed out.
Eloise sighed, rising from beside me. “What did you do wrong?”
As if it were that simple. As if I had committed some kind of crime to deserve this. If I had, if there had been some reason to warrant the bruises forming on my skin, maybe it would have helped her feel better about condoning it.
“Do you know who rules Athenia now?” I questioned, meeting her gaze. Those few words felt like tearing sand against my raw windpipe.
“The High God Hyrax rules this nation,” she intoned, tucking the towel into the waistline of her apron.
I laughed darkly, the movement shaking my bruised ribs so much that I hissed in a gasp. Her lips pursed, but she didn’t move to help me any further.
“I’m his daughter,” I explained dryly, distantly hoping the confession would affect her somehow. “That’s what I did wrong. My only crime was being born of his magic and wanting to be something different than he is.”
Eloise stared down at me, blinking rapidly a few times. “That would make you...”
Yes.
“The Goddess of the Veil is my official designation,” I fought the urge to laugh again at the ridiculousness of the conversation.
The Goddess of the Veil and the broken woman bleeding on the floor. One and the same.
A useless title for a helpless girl.
