Page 28 of Kingdom of Rot & Ruin
My leg burned like it was on fire. L moved forward again but frowned, seeing nothing more wrong with me.
“Can you wipe the blood off, or …”
I took his offered arm and scowled, leaning against him.
“I am not injured. The ritual didn’t go as planned becausesomeonesurprised me.”
The accidental cut on my leg was bleeding black blood sluggishly. That was worrisome. Very worrisome.
“That’s the same color of blood the monster–”
“Iknow,Z,” I snarled back at him.
The other marks glowed a dull gold. Shrugging on the clean robe, I gathered my tools and cleaned them off, using the small bit of water left in the bucket. I wrapped the knives in a piece of cloth, hiding them away in the room. Everything else went in the empty bucket to take back to my room. I’d have to refill it to bring more water down for the next ritual, anyway.
And there would be so many more rituals.
Chapter
Eight
“Z, the others are talking. Are you coming down to dinner?”
A year later, my quill hovered over the parchment, a blot of ink dripping from the edge to mar my pristine paper on my small desk. Vession had moved into grander chambers last year with a promotion, and had given me his old, cramped ones. It was better than the dormitory, which was now occupied by the latest reaping.
This was preferable, and though the other boys shot me hateful looks, I also no longer kept them up in the middle of the night with my candles and quill scratches.
I turned and shot M a glare. He knew I hated being interrupted, and he knew I hated being called ‘Z’. Though I’d broken him of many of his ‘mud boy’ habits, shortening my name to simply my first letter was not something I had succeeded with.
“Now, I must start over. You know I complete all my work before the evening meal. If I haven’t completed it in time, then that is my fault. Do not let me hold you up. Use it as an opportunity to listen.”
M rolled his eyes, used to my little games and machinations. If I wasn’t at dinner, the other boys were sure to talk about me. M would eat it up along with his chicken and potatoes, reporting back to me on alliances and tensions. I always liked to keep up to date with things, after all.
He quietly slipped away, knowing there was no use arguing with me. When I set my course to something, that was what it was.
Now eighteen, I was only months away from receiving my final placement among the ranks of the Nobles; possibly sooner if I could fully prove my worth. If deemed worthy, I would find an honored place among the scribes, and maybe even given the honor of a wife.
If I decided that was something I wanted.
That was why my work came first, and would always come first. It was above friendships, food, and sleep. It was everything.
Vession thought the subject of blood magick a dead end, but he also knew I was relentless. If there was anything to be gained from researching into how to harness the fledging magick around us, I would be the one to do it. And once I did, I would be unstoppable. I would continue to bide my time, hone my craft, and when the moment was right, I would strike.
I bent back down to my parchment, frowning over the sigils and shapes. The top circle wasn’t entirely symmetrical. That was throwing the entire design off, especially with the fresh blot on it.
I crumpled up the parchment and started over.
Hours later, darkness had fallen, but I was finally satisfied with the design. My stomach growled, and reluctantly I setthe drawing down and covered it with a bit of sand to set the ink.
Time for food.
Who needed to eat with the other hogs at the trough when there was a perfectly functional kitchen in this palace?
All for a few kisses. Clover was quite useful, and a delightful distraction.
Women were confusing. Most were weak and pliable and easy to manipulate; like my mother. Loving them was a weakness. The queen was different.
She was terrifying. Strong. Dangerous. I hadn’t run into her in a year.
