Page 66 of The Concubine King
“We all playmultipleinstruments,” she said curtly, as though offended he could possibly imply anything else.“Though skill no longer seems to make a difference.”
He blinked.“A difference in what?”
“In whether the gods will choose you.”She spoke coldly, turning away from him as she said it.Regret shivered up Ethyr’s spine.
“All you need now is a pretty face covered in dirt, apparently,” another remarked, which got the rest of the group to snicker.Ethyr’s shoulders stiffened.
“Sorry to bother you,” he muttered, slinking off and trying not to hear what was tittered as he left.He sought out Yorith, who was talking to another old priest about ‘economic stagnation,’ whatever that was.
“Are we leaving soon?”he interrupted.
Yorith looked him over, refreshingly placid instead of annoyed.“I thought you were making friends.”
Ethyr glanced back at the ‘friends’ still talking amongst themselves.“Not exactly.”
“Well you should try.You could learn a lot from these priests.”
He clenched his jaw to stop his face from scrunching up.“Can’t I wait outside with Poyut?”
“Absolutely not,” Yorith sniffed.“This whole feast is for you, remember?I thought you liked being the center of attention.”
No amount of willpower could hold back Ethyr’s scowl then.“Really?Seems like it’s more for you.”
The other priest chuckled, which somehow tempered the scathing response Ethyr detected on Yorith’s tongue.
Yorith turned to the man, eyebrows raised.“Are you laughing at my expense, Harus?”The words that Ethyr expected to come out biting and cold were jovial and good-natured instead.For a moment, Ethyr saw Yorith as one of the gentle, patient elders of his village, willing to part with pride if it put a smile on a young face.Then he remembered that he was standing beside the most haughty, power-grabbing old man he’d ever met.
“To imagine,” Harus said lightly, “diligent, book-faced Yorith hosting a party for himself.It’s about time, honestly.”
Yorith smiled—a real smile, accompanied by a soft breath—and shook his head.“I had no need to concoct any parties, you and Galeia held plenty enough.”
“Not enough,” Harus disagreed.“Head Priest Sanius was such a miser.”
“You managed to break a torso-sized hole in the atrium’s wall,” Yorith said, eyebrows raised.“Of course he was going to snuff out what he could of your disastrous plots.”
Harus rolled his eyes.“He’s not alive to favor you now, Yor, you don’t need to kiss up to him.”
Yorith leveled Harus with an unamused look before launching into a different topic.Ethyr wished they would continue the previous line of conversation, because it was quite enlightening, and honestly a lot more interesting than anything else he’d heard bouncing around the room.But instead the priests returned to some complex conversation about taxes that he could barely follow.Resigned to his fate, Ethyr got a drink and returned to the window to wait out the torture.
“Good news, Your Divinity!”
Ethyr woke with a jolt and sat up, mussing his hair.He squinted at Gionan as the man cheerfully bustled in and started going through his chests.
“Yorith said you can go back to having lessons at the temple.”
“Yay,” Ethyr sighed.Gionan didn’t seem concerned about his lack of enthusiasm.He held up a tunic thoughtfully before shaking his head and laying it aside to continue digging.
Ethyr stretched his arms up and back, flopping onto his pillows again.He was so tired.He was tired of lessons, he was tired of doing nothing all day, he was tired of being tired.He had always thought palace life, and especially the lives of kings, would have been glamorous and exciting.But it was mundane.Mundane and boring and repetitive.He didn’t know how long he could continue before losing his sanity.
“Up, up!”Gionan incited, patting his blanketed legs, so Ethyr rolled out of bed and let himself be dressed and led to the dining room for breakfast.
He stared out the large window as he munched on nuts and fruit.At least the weather was different; the sky was dark with clouds and he could hardly see the garden below.The open wall offered a light breeze, a reprieve from the stuffy humidity that had hung over everything the past two days.It meant a storm was coming.
Storms were the bane of his village’s existence, second only to blizzards.Here, where even the roofs were built of solid stone and there were no crops to worry about, it was a little exciting.Anything other than pleasant blue skies day in and day out was exciting.Though Ethyr wondered if anyone in the palace knew, as they went about without a care or hint of preparation.All the windows seemed a hazard to leave uncovered when wind and rain picked up.
Heavy steps into the room drew his attention from the weather and he startled to see Lyrian walking through the doorway.He scrambled to his feet, forgetting that he didn’t owe the man any reverence.
“Guard Master,” Gionan greeted, bowing his head low.The other attendant standing by, waiting for Ethyr to finish eating, did the same.
