Page 59 of Of Blood & Stone

Slipping between trees, careful to not step on misshapened roots, he caught up to them. The High One looked both ways, missing Elnok hidden in the shadows. The High One gripped Sylzenya’s arm and pulled them into a tight grouping of trees adjacent to Elnok.

He held his breath. He’d meant to get close, but not this close.

“Why did you have the prince participate in the wine ceremony?” the High One questioned, his voice sharp.

She took a deep breath, leveling her shoulders. “You told me to give him a rich exposure to Estea. I thought the wine ceremony a good idea, but I see now it wasn’t.”

He shook his head. “There’s a level of cordialness I must provide when welcoming outlanders into our kingdom—you know this. But what you did yesterday was a risk, and it failed.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He looked around, eyes narrowing as he led her closer to Elnok’s hiding spot. Sweat built on the back of his neck, but he kept his breathing quiet, body stilled.

“Show me your orodyte,” the High One demanded.

Sylzenya pulled out the orodyte necklace.

“You must remember this symbol. Our promise. You’re to bring hope and faith to our people, not render them senseless thinking an outlander has brought the curse to us. It’s the veryoppositeof what we agreed on.”

Sylzenya’s lip quivered. Elnok’s hand balled into a fist.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He gripped her shoulder. “Neverdo anything like that again.”

Her mouth thinned. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

Despite Elnok’s heart pounding in his ears, he remained still, taking slow breaths.

“It’ll be more than three days before I give you your cure.”

Sylzenya’s eyes widened. “But I announced I’ll be back in three days.”

“You’ll be ‘conserving your power’ until it’s needed. What greater way to show our land is prospering by sharing how our greatest Kreena isn’t needed at the moment?”

“I promise it won’t happen again?—”

“Enough,Sylzenya. You’ve made a grievous mistake and with that comes consequences.”

She closed her mouth and bowed. Elnok wanted to crush the High One’s throat.

“Our Kreenas and acolytes are doing a wonderful job without you; we have time until we need you back.”

“I—” Sylzenya stopped herself, gulping, “Yes, Your Grace. How long will that be?”

“One month.”

Silence filled the shadowed grove.

“That’s how long the cure will take to complete?” she asked, her words slow and measured.

“On the contrary, the cure is ready.” He tapped the orodyte. “But you are not.”

The silence thickened.

“I know you’re disappointed,” he continued, placing a hand on her shoulder, “But we agreed to this. You must prove yourself ready, and so far, you’ve only proven how far from it you are. Do you understand what I’m asking of you, Sylzenya? Or must I repeat myself?”

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