Page 59 of Heir of the Autumn Queen

“And what of the war waging in your heart? What of the prince who now occupies a part of your soul?” the seer asks me, stopping me cold.

A shiver runs down my spine at Celeste’s description.“What of him?” I ask, my tone harsher than I mean it to be as my complicated feelings for Finn make their way to the surface.

“Don’t you wish to know the contents of his heart?” she folds her thin hands in her lap, rocking back and forth in her chair.

I stop and think about what she’s offering me. Absolute certainty about Finn’s true feelings. The truth about why he did what he did. It would be so easy. I sigh, ultimately deciding it would feel dishonest, like spying, to find out what Finn’s intentions were, or how he truly feels.“No,” I tell her.“That’s his responsibility, not yours.”

“Very well,” she says, giving me a gracious nod.

“Thank you again,” I tell her, and she holds up her hand in farewell. I walk out of the seer’s room and head back out to find Priscilla to inquire about staying the night here before heading further south. I could use a day to clear my head and focus on something other than my ruthless aunt. Or Brutus. Or Finn. I have no shortage of anxieties to dwell on at the moment.

I find Priscilla in the library, and she smiles at me as I approach.“I trust your time with Celeste was fruitful?”

“I fear it was rather fruitless actually, but thank you for arranging for me to meet with her,” I say, shifting on my feet as I prepare to ask if I can stay for a bit. Priscilla goes back to copying a scroll that appears to be centuries old.“Is there any way I can stay for a while?” I ask her.“I could work in the garden, or shelve books, or tend to the animals…”

“You are welcome here as long as you wish,” she answers, not even bothering to look up from the book this time.“I will have a room made up for you, but until then, feel free to wander or help wherever you see a need.”

“Thank you.” I exhale a sigh of relief. I immediately head outside to the gardens, anxious to get my hands dirty. I approach a priest there who is tending to one of the raised beds and offer my help. He wipes his sweaty brow before pointing me to the box adjacent to his, and I hike up my sleeves and dig in; I’ve always been able to lose myself in the dirt. The earthy smell of the soil washes over my senses, calming me and reminding me of home.

I work for hours, not bothering to take any breaks until my hands are aching from the tedious task of pulling roots. I stand and wipe my forehead with my bicep, only now realizing that I’m the sole person left out here as the sun starts to set.

I walk over to the pump connected to the well and rinse my hands, but I’m thoroughly covered in muck; I’ll need to wash my clothes and body in order to actually get clean.

I head inside in search of Priscilla, wandering around until I come to the dining hall. Many of the priests and priestesses are sitting together, enjoying a meal after a hard day’s work. I wonder if any of them ever get tired of the monotony of their lives, the simplicity of their existence. But then I remember what Priscilla said about Celeste’s past, about escaping and seeking sanctuary here after so many years of abuse and servitude. Maybe the others here have similar histories…

The Accord outlawed slavery, but perhaps there are still ways that people can coerce others into service; maybe situations like Celeste’s are happening more often than I considered. I never realized how small my world was, how much pain and suffering occurred outside of the safety of Staghorn.

I find Priscilla sitting at the head of one of the tables, chatting casually with a handsome priest there. Their heads drift close together as they converse, and he lays a hand on top of hers on the table. She smiles at him from underneath her eyelashes as he whispers something in her ear. They’re clearly in love, and the sight of them makes me slightly jealous of what they have after the way things ended in my only romantic relationship.

Finn’s handsome face comes to the forefront of my mind, and I can practically feel his strong hands on me, feel his breath in my ear as he nibbles on my neck. My core clenches at the memory of feeling him inside me, the heat of pleasure threatening to overcome me as I remember how good he made me feel, both physically and emotionally. Our joining was more than a physical one, that much I know for sure, even without having much experience. But any good memories I have of him are now overshadowed, his betrayal dousing any affection I held for him. I push Finn out of my mind and clear my throat next to Priscilla and her lover.“Sorry to interrupt,” I say shyly.

“Not at all,” the priest says warmly.“Please, join us.”

I sit down in the empty chair next to Priscilla and scoop some food onto the plate there from the several options laid out in the center of the table; some kind of salad with pears and toasted walnuts, roasted carrots tossed in honey, and a steaming roll with butter and jam. Everything is so fresh, it’s the best food I’ve had in a long time. I sigh contentedly as I finish off the roll and turn to Priscilla.“This is delicious.”

She smiles at me in earnest.“Everything on your plate has been grown or made here. From the vegetables in the garden to the grain from the wheat we grind and mill, to the honey from the bees we keep.”

“Wow,” I say, appreciating the food that much more knowing how much work went into this meal, and likely every other meal they eat.“That’s incredible.”

“We have no access to outside resources.” Priscilla shrugs.“It’s been this way since the beginning.”

“Still,” I say, swallowing a bite of salad.“Thank you. Again.”

“From what I hear,” the priest says,“you’re more than earning your keep.” He smiles at me, still holding Priscilla’s hand.“I’m Felix.” His skin is dark brown and his head is home to thick, dark black curls. He’s got kind eyes, which are strikingly light green, definitely not typical for someone with his skin tone. I notice the hand on top of Priscilla’s is heavily scarred, and he’s missing the fourth finger on his right hand. He also has a faded brand of the letter 's' on his cheek. He notices me staring at smiles sadly.“All punishments for acts I committed that were deemed less-than satisfactory in my employer’s eyes.”

“Were you indentured before you came here?”

He nods gravely.“Born into servitude. I worked for twenty years to finish out my mother’s contract. The family we served was… less-than-kind. Brutally unforgiving when it came to even the simplest of mistakes.”

Anger bubbles up inside me. I’m frustrated that I didn’t even know indentured servitude was still occurring in the kingdoms until today.“Do all the kingdoms allow indentures?”

Felix answers with a nod.“They’re most common in the Autumn and Winter Kingdoms.”

I scoff, not the least bit surprised.“How is this allowed to happen?”

Priscilla answers me this time.“The Accord only outlawedslavery. The wealthy have always found a way to bend the rules and exploit those who are weaker and less fortunate than themselves. Many will opt for a service contract when the alternatives are prison or homelessness.”

“But why are the contracts so long?” I turn to Felix.“You worked for twenty years to fulfill your mother’s contract… How long did she work?”

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