Page 15 of The Concubine King
“Not ideal,” Gionan said.“But it will have to do.”
“It fits well enough,” the other man said.He stepped forward and pulled at the shoulders of the tunic, readjusting them.“With Verusias’s style, we were lucky to find loose-fitted attire at all.”
“That’s why it was left behind,” Gionan said, and the other man chuckled as though it was a funny joke.
“Who’s Verusias…us…?”Ethyr ventured.
The man looked at him like he was crazy, but Gionan was used to his questions by then.
“The previous king,” he told Ethyr.“He was taller than you.”
As though that was the information Ethyr thought important.“Why isn’t he king now?”
“The gods did not want him anymore,” Gionan answered.
“Why not?”
“We do not question the gods’ decisions.”
“How long was he king?”
"Eighteen years.”
“How long do most kings last?”
A throat cleared.They all turned to Yorith standing in the doorway and the two men quickly bowed their torsos low.Ethyr glanced at them, wondering if he should bow too, but the priest was already walking towards him.He’d changed into a robe that was much the same as his previous one, except red and hemmed in even more elaborate golden embroidery.His braid was coiled on the top of his head, which made him look ridiculous.That, plus spending the past four days with him eliminated any of the intimidation Ethyr had felt the first time he’d watched the man close in on him.
Yorith walked in a circle around Ethyr, then tucked his hands into his sleeves with an approving nod.
“You look almost cultured,” he said.Ethyr scrunched his face.“When you aren’t scowling or gaping,” he amended.
Ethyr smoothed his expression and pressed his lips together instead, narrowing his eyes.“Why didn’t you tell me the gods would kill me?”he asked angrily.
Yorith blinked.“What are you talking about?”
“Gionan said they would kill me if I insulted them.”
“Then don’t insult them,” the priest replied.
“But I don’t know what to do!You said yourself a year wouldn’t be long enough for me to be ready!”
“Not pleasing someone and insulting them are very different things,” Yorith told him impatiently.“Think before you act or speak and you’ll be fine.Regardless, they chose you specifically, so I’m sure your barbarity will not surprise them.”
Ethyr set his jaw.
“Now come along.”He walked out before Ethyr had any chance to protest or ask questions.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ethyr hurried after the old man, not that it was hard to keep up with his frail, short strides.He was glad for it, because the silk slippers felt like they’d fall off his feet with every step.Maybe that was the real reason the priest walked slowly.Ethyr’s belt rings clinked and jingled with the movement, and he wanted to rip it off.
Unlike his bedroom, which was covered in textile art, the corridor walls were painted—yellow and deep purple and green and red, with sparkling gold embellishment added to small details.The endless tangles and overlaps resembled the chaotic pattern of tree roots, yet it was not messy or nonsensical.The lines made a symmetrical and never-ending pattern of knots.
“Remember what I taught you,” Yorith said as they walked.“Legs under you, no hunching, no leaning forward or leaning on the table.Do not reach more than one plate over for anything, you must ask for it to be passed to you…”
Ethyr half-listened to him, more intent on watching the lines on the wall shift past.The peace of the hall, just night life and the distant roar of the waterfall, was disrupted by human chatter as they descended to the first level.
He startled when a hand grabbed his chin, forcing it upwards and out.
