Page 11 of The Curse of Golden Blood
We approached the closest table and sat on the opposite side from the blacksmith's son, Terys, who looked up at us with dark, guarded eyes. "Slept well, girls?"
Pelbie opened her mouth to respond, but Terys reached across the table and snatched the bread off her plate before she could speak.
“Wouldn’t want it to get cold,” he added, biting into it as if daring us to protest.
I stared at him. He didn’t look away. I fought the urge to snatch the food from his hand and smash it into his face.
But if I gave Terys the reaction he clearly wanted, I'd play straight into his provocation. And I refused to do that.
"Take mine instead," I told her. "I don't think I have an appetite this morning."
Terys rolled his eyes and huffed. "What happened to your spirit? Or did the warlord scare you that much yesterday?"
I clenched my teeth as Terys threw the remains of Pelbie’s bread at me. The other Vessels, I realized, had grown quieter now that we were in their midst. They watched and listened, waiting for a response.
A Vessel with a dark blue robe approached the edge of the table, clutching the edge with gloved hands. He must have overheard Terys, because he fixed the boy with a look that could freeze water. "Throwing food in your first week." His voice was light, almost amused. "Brave. Stupid, but brave. Tell me, did they teach you manners where you're from, or did Lord Gryven scrape you from the bottom of a ditch?"
Terys's face flushed red. "I wasn't—"
"You weren't what? Wasting perfectly good bread while half the realm starves?" The man's smile sharpened. "Lord Gryven loves hearing about Vessels who think the rules don'tapply to them. Shall I go find him now, or would you prefer to leave on your own?"
Terys shot to his feet, chair scraping loudly against stone. "Fine." He shoved past me hard enough that I had to catch myself on the table.
The man was tall, imposing, with bright green eyes and ash blond hair. He offered us a pleasant, easy smile. "I'm Brond. Eighth year here." He gestured to his dark robes. "I help train the newer Vessels."
"I'm Miralyte. This is Pelbie."
“I know.” He sat down on the bench next to us, and his fur cloak spread over the seat behind him. "You're the mad one who volunteered. "
Pelbie finished chewing her food, then turned to look at him. "Did you volunteer too?"
Brond's smile faltered only briefly before returning. "No. I was chosen at sixteen. That's a long time ago now. You'll learn quickly, and the days will go by fast. Soon you won't even realize how long it's been. That's how it was for me, at least. And it's true for most everyone else."
"Does anyone ever leave?" I asked.
"Once marked, you cannot depart. You could attempt it, but if caught..." He shrugged. "Better not to think of it."
"So, we're prisoners." Pelbie's voice shook.
"Prisoners?" Brond repeated. "No. You are free to do what you like. You have your own bedchambers with soft beds, and clean sheets. There's a bathing chamber for you, and the finest food to eat. Here, no one will harm you, and no one will starve you. All your needs will be met. "
How could he say that with a straight face? "Is that how you rationalize being enslaved to the fae?"
He smiled again. "It is not a terrible fate, and it is better than what you had before. I've seen the villages in the north. Iknow about poverty, sickness, hunger. I was born in a place like that. But the fae found me and took me away from that. And they have fed me, clothed me, and taught me how to fight. If not for them, I'd have died long ago. Or worse, I'd have become a thief, or a murderer."
I couldn't believe my ears. I'd spent a lifetime hating the fae, and hearing one praise them left my mind reeling. But I held my tongue, knowing no words could change his mind. He was trapped here, and this was his way of coping.
A bell sounded shortly, echoing down the hall and into the vast chamber, ringing like thunder. The food was swept away at once. It was almost as though it had never been there. Pelbie let out a moan of horror and I giggled. Apparently, the partially chewed bread in her mouth had decided to abandon her as well.
"The breakfast is over." Karys spoke from where she stood, her arms folded and a triumphant smile playing on her face. "Now it's time for you all to meet your masters."
One by one, she led the Vessels out of the hall, as though we were sheep being led to a slaughterhouse. We followed her silently, obediently, the way a flock follows its shepherd.
We filed out in neat rows of two, following her through corridors lined with tapestries depicting great battles. She led us to a circular courtyard surrounded by towering columns and marble statues of armored warriors. Ancient runes carved into the stone floor pulsed with faint blue light.
In the center stood Gryven, arms behind his back, flanked by five older Vessels in matching dark blue robes. One of them was Brond—the same Vessel who had sat beside us in the breakfast hall earlier, calm and polished, talking like this life was a privilege instead of a sentence.
I didn’t recognize the others, but I couldn’t stop wondering if Tomos had ended up the same. They took him five years ago,and I never heard from him again. We used to sneak off behind the baker’s cottage, trading stolen bread and dares. Once, he said he’d rather cut off his hand than serve the fae.
