Page 20 of When Wishes Bleed

Suddenly, my front door flew open. I quickly tucked the stone into my dress’s pocket and went to greet my unexpected visitor.

Visitors, I corrected, as Wayra and Ela stood at the threshold.

“Why were you visited by the Courier of Nautilus, and what did he give you?” Ela demanded. My grandmother’s now-rheumy eyes narrowed on mine. Her face withered more deeply as she scowled. She didn’t spare a glance at the House her daughter had built and loved.

“I’ve been invited to reside at the palace for a time.”

Wayra sucked in a breath. “Whatever for?”

“Your Houses have telecasters. Have you heard news that the Prince is looking for a wife?”

Ela scoffed. “Never has a royal sent an invitation to a witch.”

“The tradition must have changed,” I asserted, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Let me see it,” she ordered.

I retrieved the invitation, but hid Prince Tauren’s letter. It was my duty to keep his words private.

My grandmother tore the paper out of my hand, her eyes sliding back and forth across and down the invitation. “You will not accept,” she finally declared, handing the paper to Wayra.

“You cannot marry,” Wayra agreed, slicking her hands down the fabric of her sky-blue robes.

“Fate demands that I accept his invitation.” Originally, I’d wanted to rebel against Prince Tauren’s summons, but seeing how it ruffled the Priestesses’ feathers made it tempting to go. I told Fate as much and sighed as the burn in my belly was quenched.

Ela’s knobby finger pointed at my chest. “I forbid it.”

Wayra straightened her back, looking from my grandmother to me. “It goes against our fundamental beliefs,” she agreed. “Even Fate must understand that we cannot bend on this matter. If our foundation crumbles, what is to keep our Houses upright?”

“What if the Kingdom wants to unify the Sectors? Thirteen is treated as an outcast among them. The people in the lower sectors think we’re evil and dangerous. What if I could show them that we are good? That we are vital to the Kingdom and its security? They don’t have a clue what we do to protect them.”

“It’s better that they don’t know,” Ela argued. “Let them fear us. It does not matter what the Lowers think of us. We will not get involved in matters of state. We must remain sovereign.”

“The Kingdom has changed, High Priestess. Perhaps it’s time we change with it.” I held my hand out and waited for Wayra to return the invitation. She placed the square of thickly embossed, white parchment in my palm.

Ela was not one to back down. “Change is dangerous. Change corrupts. Your participation in such a vile pageant will not help anyone in Thirteen. You are not representative of the Sector.”

“The Prince believes otherwise,” I replied stiffly, steeling my spine.

Wayra placed her hand on Ela’s back. “I’ll call forth the Circle.”

Ela leveled me with a glare. “Know this. If the Circle decides that you’re not to go and you defy our order, you will not be welcome back in The Gallows. And there is nothing the King, or even the might of Nautilus’s military can do to persuade or force us to change our minds on the matter.”

She looked around at the House of Fate, disgust curling her lips. I could almost see the moment she imagined it demolished. Wayra helped my grandmother down the steps as she wheezed and hobbled.

Her threat hung heavily in the air.

7

The afternoon dragged on painfully slow, but I knew the moment the Circle’s private meeting began in the forest. They cast spells to keep anyone from eavesdropping on the conversation. I knew this, because in the past, I’d tried.

It bothered me that they believed they had any power over my future.

I busied myself by dusting, which was a daunting task considering all the furniture, fixtures, delicate cobwebs, and stubborn dust.

My grandmother’s ire fueled my aggravated cleaning. How dare she threaten to remove me from my House? How dare she threaten me at all? They’d said that my House would never again be represented in the Circle, but I begged to differ. I had just as much power as my mother. Maybe more.

I threw down the dusting cloth and moved on to a heavier chore. Angrily, I tore down more curtains and stripped all the beds, leaving the linens in balled-up piles lining the hallways until each were dotted with linens that desperately needed to be laundered.

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