Chapter 3
I begged desperately, “Your Majesty! I am but a filthy wretch–unworthy to stand before Your Grace! I beg you, reconsider your command!!
The king, clearly tired of my pleas, silenced me with a rough hand over my mouth.
When it was over, he tossed his soiled robe at me, his face twisted with disdain.
“Selene, you were never cut out for the role of High Priestess. You should have been sent away for proper discipline long ago. Your so–called gifts only serve to confuse and weaken the men around you.”
His words cut deep as he turned away,
I stood there in the cold wind, drained of color and hope.
After a while, Lord Codric Halloway, the chief steward of the palace, appeared carrying a small bowl, “High Priestess, this is the king’s orders. Please take
it at once.”
I looked down at the bitter liquid–an abortifacient.
But the king did not know that, as a servant of the Crimson Pavilion, I had long since been rendered incapable of bearing children.
On the day Lady Evelyne was due to give birth, I was dragged to the temple altar.
As the sacrificial offering, my hands were nailed to the altar, blood pooling beneath me.
I barely registered my mentor shattering the divination bones, when the king stormed in.
His face twisted in horror at the sight and the coppery scent of blood made him recoil. “What is the meaning of this? Release her immediately!” “Your Majesty, this cannot bel” Lyra pleaded.
“Two years ago, Selene defled destiny and incurred divine wrath. Now, her blood must be offered as a sacrifice to avert disaster! If not, the queen faces the risk of losing both herself and her child ”
The king’s expression darkened as he stared at me, as if condemning me for all that had come to pass. Without a word, he turned and entered Lady Evelyne’s birthing chamber.
I closed my eyes tightly and heard Lyra’s mocking voice, “Selene, how does it feel to be abandoned by the one you love? Could you ever predict the king’s disgust for you?”
I said nothing
The distant screams from the birthing chamber pierced the silence.
As Lady Evelyne labored, I was repeatedly drained of blood
But with my palms nailed to the altar, the bleeding would soon stop.
When it did, someone had to drive new nails into my hands,
Lyre whispered incantations, producing wooden spikes from a box,
The next moment, one was hammered deep into my palm.
My pain was swallowed by Lady Evelyne’s agonized cries.
During my two years at the Crimson Pavilion, I had been given countless drugs to comply with the patrons‘ wishes, leaving my body hypersensitive beyond normal limits.
That nail struck a nerve, and darkness claimed me immediately.
A basin of cold water was thrown over me, forcing my eyes open.
The wound burned fiercely–like searing coals pressed against my flesh, then shredded by jagged blades.
Soon, my eyes turned bloodshot with pain.
Lyra’s smile never wavered. “Selene, this is a special tonic I prepared just for you. Do you like it?TM
Palin overwhelmed me. Lost to sensation, I lifted my cracked lips and whispered, “Lyra… do you know why… our mentor never passed the High Priestess title to you?
Her smile froze. “Why?”
1 barely managed a faint grin. “Because the position demands a long life. I once read your fate–you have but half a month left.”
Lyra’s face went blank, then twisted with fury as she hinged forward, strangling me. “Selene!”
“You know the rule,” I gasped. “A High Priestess must never look into her own future.”
Whether my words were true or not,
were true or not, she panicked. Fueled by rage and resentment, she pressed a nail against my shoulder.
“Selene, do you realize what this will mean?”
“The band you use for divination will be crippled–useless forever.”
Chicker 3
