Page 28 of Insolence
Ghisele clears her throat, beaming around the classroom. “Apprenticeship isn’t for everyone. It’s a great deal of extra work on top of an acolyte’s usual duties. However, some of us feel we’ve been touched by the goddess’s hand and must answer a higher calling. In that case, there’s a qualifying test given just before the Festival of Eisha. After passing, it’s recommended to work closely with a high priestess, who will become a mentor.”
Her smug glance lands on me, prompting me to touch my forehead. There’s an angry raised bruise where I bashed skulls with Elodie yesterday. Sadrie laughed about it endlessly last night, dubbing it my “goose egg.”
It’s earned me stares and giggles wherever I’ve gone today.
“Apprenticeship is a three-year ordeal,” continues Ghisele. “Every year the apprentice will have to pass another test. If at any point she doesn’t pass, it’s taken as a sign from Eisha. There won’t be another chance to try.”
“How long have you been an apprentice, Ghisele?” asks Maida.
“Since last Festival of Eisha. I’ve been at the temple a little over a year now.” She steps back, positioning herself next to the First High Priestess.
Elodie nods, watching her cohorts. She betrays no hint that she might be thinking about what happened in the fissure yesterday. Which isn’t fair at all, because I can’tstopthinking about it.
Her forehead isn’t bruised at all. There’s an irritated pink blotch above her eyebrow, but that’s it. I wonder if the quick healing has anything to do with her mention of a poultice yesterday.
“Thank you, Ghisele,” says Delia. “So that you’re all aware up front, high priestesses may never return to society, marry, or have children. The position is a lifelong commitment. The acolytes who do not wish to try for apprenticeship may serve their year-long term. At its conclusion, they’ll rejoin society and carry on with their lives.”
Whispers circulate between the rows. Elodie pushes off from the wall, taking up her usual pacing.
“With that said, you all must be wondering about the black spheres,” says Delia breezily. “Most of you will end up with one. Simply put, drawing black indicates that Eisha wishes you betrothed to her service. As a result, you’ll become committed to the goddess entirely—body, mind, and soul.”
The whispers rise to a steady hum.
Delia pushes through. “Much like how high priestesses preside over the acolytes, we sisters and the prioress shallpreside over the betrothed. Prayers three times a day will be expected, while acolytes will attend morning prayers only.”
Next to me, Sadrie snorts. My hands are folded in front of me on the desk, and her eyes are trained on my wrists.
I tug my long sleeves over my bruises. Squirming, I can still feel the bite of Elodie’s fingers and the press of her lips from yesterday. The scent of amber and cedar still clings to my skin.
“In conjunction with the Festival of Eisha, which occurs on the autumn equinox,” says Delia, “what we call a Binding Ceremony will take place. This is a ritual for the betrothed, meant to seal your commitment to Eisha in this life and the next.”
Something shifts behind my ribs, reminding me of yesterday’s ravenous hunger. It’s been roiling just beneath my skin ever since. My surroundings are going hazy again, my focus on Elodie rounding the far corner of the room overriding everything else.
“Other than mealtimes and morning prayers, acolytes and the betrothed won’t often interact,” says Delia. “After the Binding Ceremony, each of the betrothed will be carefully placed in other temples throughout the realm to become sisters themselves.”
“What did she just say?” whispers Sadrie.
But I’m transfixed on the Second High Priestess. Focused on the taut pull between us that’s becoming avibration. Her gaze leveled above my head, she turns down the aisle flanking my side of the desk.
“Like high priestesshood, becoming betrothed to Eisha’s service is lifelong. Meaning, you’ll never rejoin society, marry, or have children,” says Delia.
I’m only vaguely aware of the grumbles going up around the room.
Mask firmly in place, hands clasped behind her back, Elodie avoids my pointed stare with admirable diligence. That is, until she abruptly stops, one desk in front of me.
“It is a blessing and an honor to serve Eisha and this temple,” concludes Delia. “Always remember that you are the privileged few.”
Her expression transforming, Elodie pins me with that familiar, cutting glare of hers. That grave look is such a simple thing, but somehow it unnerves me completely.
The whispers become an alarmed din, which builds in intensity as it travels through the annex. New initiates shoot concerned glances at one another. Murmurs of “Did she saylifelong?” fill the air, but all of it seems to be happening at a great distance away.
The thread shudders between us, igniting fervor in every nerve ending. Air hisses between my teeth. Nostrils twitching, lips pressed thin, Elodie pivots without warning and walks back the way she came.
What in the damn hell?My hazy mind is slowly clearing, and I shake my head.
“Quite so.” It’s Maida’s turn again. “In the meantime,allresidents of Eisha’s temple will observe strict rules as follows: daily schedules shall be adhered to, no questions asked. All tasks and activities are mandatory, with exceptions where sickness or injury may prevent participation.”
Someone behind me is quietly snickering, the sound discordant with the tension filling the room. Cordelia is fighting full-blown laughter when I peek over my shoulder.
