She smiled, and I reached for my wine. “Uh, earlier you said not all of the queen’s ladies were nobility?”
Auria nodded, using her bread to mop up the last of her stew. “Yes, while most of them are, the queen has always been a little…eccentric. I think sometimes she grows bored with court life. Caraceli was once the girl in charge of lighting her fire each night and keeping it burning. They became close, and when she was old enough, the queen offered her the position. And Katina was born in one of the northern villages. Close to the mountains.” Auria gave a mock shiver. “The queen was traveling, and Katina was at the market, selling her father’s wares. They began talking, and before anyone realized what had happened, Katina had been plucked from her village and was living here.”
“So, each of them either showed loyalty to the queen or amused her in some way.” There was potential there. I tucked that information away to think about later.
“I guess you could say that.” Auria shrugged. “One of my friends says it’s the queen’s way of undermining the king.” She flushed. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
My head felt stuffed with all the information I needed to consider, and I finished the rest of my stew in silence while Auria told me a story about one of the kitchen maids.
“You must be exhausted,” she said finally, when I was stifling a yawn. “Let me show you to the bathing rooms. You’ll need to clean up before the ceremony.”
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “What ceremony?”
“Oh, I forgot, villagers don’t pay homage to the gods as often as we do.” Auria smiled and took my arm. “I suppose that’s why most people living in the city are given back more magic than the villagers.”
I stiffened. “Most of the villagers I know were too busy to worship every day. They were trying to eke out a living to take care of their families.”
“I would argue that if they had worshipped more, perhaps they wouldn’t have needed to work so hard. Perhaps the gods would have rewarded them. Oh, listen to me,” Auria said. “Going on when you need to bathe. It’s just…the gods were here for me when my mother died. Without their blessings, I don’t know how I would have gotten through that time.”
I tamped down my instinct to defend my neighbors. Instead, I offered her a smile. “I understand.”
And I did understand. Many people used faith to cope with the worst parts of their lives. As something greater than themselves to turn to when they had lost their way. But some people used it to justify why others had less than they did–and why they were deserving of more. As much as I burned to tell Auria exactly why people in the city—especially the courtiers—were so much more powerful than us villagers, I bit my tongue until it almost bled.
One day, Auria would learn just how many lies she had believed.
She smiled at me somewhat awkwardly as we approached the bathing rooms. Thankfully, she was ready to launch into an explanation about how the servants’ bathing rooms were divided based on rank. Usually, one had to put their name down to use a bathing room, hoping it became available before you had to return to your duties. If you missed your turn, you went to the back of the line.
Thankfully, Auria was friends with the servant in charge of the bathing rooms. As she seemed to be friends with everyone.
“I can give you ten minutes,” the woman said, handing me the key.
“Oh, here’s a fresh dress.” Auria opened a closet and handed me a maroon dress identical to the one I had on. “I’ll get this one back to you once it’s cleaned.”
“Thank you.”
The bath was better than the rivers and streams I’d been bathing in while traveling with the mercenaries. But my mind returned me to the bath I’d taken that night at the inn, right after I’d heard Lorian laugh properly for the first time.
He’d seemed bemused by himself, as if unused to laughing.
We don’t think about him, Prisca.
I lounged in the bath, stopping and starting time to stretch out the bath while also getting some practice in. It gave me time to go over everything I’d heard so far.
I’d seen a variety of people in the castle. Some of them had already reached their Gifting, the blue on their temples marking them as safe. But plenty of younger servants were here as well. According to Auria, several of the queen’s ladies hadn’t yet reached twenty-five winters.
Auria knew more than I could’ve hoped, but she wasn’t an idiot. She’d made a few comments that told me just how closely she paid attention to everyone around her. Hopefully, she could also tell me where the dungeon was. The sooner I could see Asinia, the sooner I could begin working on a plan to get her out.
Finally, the water was cold, and my eyes were heavy with the strain of holding my power. Slipping out of the bath, I pulled on the dress, braided my hair, and opened the door to find Auria waiting for me.
“We can go to the sanctuary together,” she said, taking my arm once more. “This service is just for people who work in the castle. The royal family and the courtiers have their own service available to them in the mornings, although few of the nobles worship as they should.” She frowned.
The sanctuary turned out to be in a separate building behind the castle. The stone was so light it was almost white, and the walls inside were draped with swaths of light-blue cloth. Hundreds of servants dressed in maroon were making their way from the castle toward the sanctuary, and Auria and I joined the crowd shuffling inside.
The ceiling of the sanctuary towered over our heads, adorned with gold etchings. Huge windows on either side spilled the last of the daylight onto the wooden floors, and I followed Auria to a chair a few rows from the front.
Glancing behind me, I looked for Tibris but couldn’t see him anywhere. The skin on the back of my neck tingled, and I turned back around to find one of the king’s assessors sweeping his gaze over the crowd. His black robes swished around his feet as he turned to the priestess.
I sucked in a breath. The High Priestess. She wore a long blue-and-gold gown, a plain gold diadem on her head. I wanted to rip it off her and slam it into her face.
“Are you well, Setella?” Auria asked.
“Yes. Merely excited to worship.” Did the assessors know what the king did with our stolen magic? Did the priestesses know?
The crowd quieted, and the High Priestess launched into her prayers. Most of them were the same as those that were said during Giftings and Takings in the villages, and I followed along automatically.
I turned my attention to the assessor, watching him beneath my lashes. Even disguised as I was, I had to fight the urge to duck lower, hiding myself within the crowd. This assessor was an older man, tall and lean. A permanent frown line was etched between his brows, and his mouth turned down with displeasure. He angled his head, revealing a long scar across his neck.