Page 50 of Their Rejected Queen

The position makes the dress ride up, but I don’t pull it down. It’ll have to do.

Godric’s gaze lingers on my legs for a moment, then he looks away.

I grin. Maybe I’m not the only one having a hard time with this arrangement.

“You’ll begin your training with Ulara today.”

My grin vanishes. “What?”

He crosses the tent and starts selecting some clothes I hadn’t noticed before.

New clothes that are my size.

He pulls out a pair of pants, then a shirt. “I know you don’t trust her, but I do. And she’s only going to take you to the training yard and begin some basics. I also have watchers keeping an eye out. You won’t see them, but they’ll see you.”

“For some reason, that doesn’t comfort me,” I grumble.

I think I spot one of those small smiles from Godric before he hands me the pile of clothes. He had also grabbed some underwear, as well as something that looks like a smaller shirt with straps, and topped the pile with a bar of soap.

I give him a raised brow.

“You’ll need to mask your scent before you train,” he explains. “There’s a bucket with water in the back. It’s cold, but you can sponge yourself off. You’ll get a proper bath after training.”

With that, he leaves me alone again. I’m glad I don’t have to figure out a way to take off my vials without him noticing.

When I venture into the back room, I find that Godric’s account of the water being cold was an understatement. I’m violently shivering before I’m finished wiping down with the cloth, then I dry myself with one of the furs that does a surprisingly good job of soaking up the remaining moisture.

I have the urge to curl up underneath the furs and never come out, but I make myself get dressed. There are more clothes neatly folded on a small freestanding shelf, including more underwear and those strappy shirts. At home, I wore corsets. I pull at the tight fabric, much preferring how it keeps everything in place without making it impossible to breathe.

“As good a place as any,” I murmur to myself as I shove the belt and vials between the strappy shirts. I don’t expect Godric to be rummaging around in them.

And if I’m going to be physically training with Ulara, I don’t need her trying to correct my posture only to feel the vials at my thigh and get them taken from me. I’ll have to trust that Godric’s measures to keep me safe are enough.

There’s that pesky trust again.

The Outcast crosses my mind, and I wonder what he’s been up to. He’s either patiently waiting for his moment, or he’s written me off. Either way, I have a feeling I haven’t seen the last of him.

When I peek my head out of the tent, I find Ulara waiting for me.

I frown.

She bounces off the wall and gives me a nod. “Good. You’re ready. Let’s go.”

We stare each other down until I finally exit the tent all the way and the flap closes behind me. “Aren’t we going to talk about yesterday?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Not much to talk about. You’re Godric’s concubine now. That means we have some work to do if you’re not going to embarrass him.”

I don’t miss the frigid tension between us as she turns and expects me to follow.

I glance around, searching for those watchers that Godric mentioned. Of course, I don’t see anyone out on this side of the encampment. And the body hanging from the wall is still there.

That seems to be warning enough: Don’t mess with Godric.

“I didn’t ask to be a concubine, or even to be here,” I remind Ulara as we pass a few of the buildings.

I’m learning the encampment now. The stone buildings straight across from the tent are much nicer than the one I originally found Sofia in. That must be the honor housing. I make a mental note to find her later, when I’m free of my babysitter.

“It doesn’t matter,” she declares as she pauses at a cross-path between housing and what I now recognize to be the den. I hadn’t noticed the engraved carvings before. Patterns of stars and moons encircle it, giving it a decorated air.