Page 13 of A Tribute of Fire

Quynh helped me to get ready for the festivities. I looked down at my plain tunic, knowing that I was about to be judged on my appearance by hundreds of people.

I raised my chin. I was a princess of Locris. I wouldn’t allow others to make me feel small.

“Mother wanted you to wear Grandmother’s pearls,” she said.

There was a pang of regret that I had to brush aside. I had sold them to ensure my plan was successful. I just nodded.

“I’m going to go check on Kallisto and see if she needs anything,” Quynh said. After she left I studied my reflection for a moment longer before going out into the hallway.

I walked toward the throne room, where all festivities and celebrations were held.

There was a muffled cry, and then I heard a short scream and the sound of someone being slapped. I darted left and went down a hall toward the sound.

Hippolyta was on the ground, covering her head with her hands, wailing, and a strange man was hitting her. I ran over and threw myself between them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

Without answering me, he caught the side of my face with the back of his fist, flinging me backward, knocking me off my feet. Pain exploded where he made contact, stars blooming to life in front of my darkened eyes.

My first thought was that my regiment had been pulling their blows during our hand-to-hand training. I realized that none of them had ever hit me with their full strength, as this man just had.

This was why Demaratus had told me to keep clear.

“Learn your place and obey your betters,” the man said, spitting on the ground next to us. I took in as many details about his appearance as I could. I wanted to be sure that I could find him again later. His hair was a strange color, almost yellow, and he had dark, cruel eyes. He stared back with a sneer, and then he left. I had no weapon and my mentor would have been furious with me.Stupid girl, no Daemonian warrior should ever be more than an arm’s length away from their sword!

Ignoring my inner voice, I crawled over to Hippolyta.

“Are you all right?” I asked, looking her over.

“I’m fine,” she said in between sobs.

There weren’t any visible bruises now. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any later. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said as she attempted to stop crying. “He told me to bring him something to drink and I suppose I wasn’t going fast enough.”

“So he hit you?” I asked, completely shocked. I had heard of this sort of thing happening in some other nations, but I had no experience with it at all. The men of Locris were gentle and kind.

I held her tightly, rocking her until her cries came to an end. When her breathing returned to normal, I released her and said, “I’m going to tell my father.”

“Please don’t,” she protested. “I don’t want to make any trouble for your family. They’ve been so good to me.”

I had no problem lying to her. “Of course.” It was the first thing I would do when I found the king.

He needed to know that one of his guests hit defenseless women.

“I should go back to the kitchens,” she said, her voice wobbly.

“Only if you’re certain,” I said. “And maybe you should find someone else to serve the guests.”

“There is no one else,” she said in a way that broke my heart.

I knew what that felt like.

“Call on me if you need my assistance,” I said. Hippolyta nodded and headed toward the kitchens.

Adrenaline built up inside me. I wanted to hit something.

Or stab someone.

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