Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
“Yes!” he blurts out, wincing just as the needle pricks my skin. His face goes pale and he fumbles with the letter, showing me the wax seal. “It’s from the Alabaster Citadel.”
“War foolishness, most likely,” Riza comments, holding my removed sleeve. “It’s all anyone wants to talk about now.”
She’s not wrong, yet why would someone send war correspondence to me? It should go to King Lionel, and if not him, then his advisors. Or my sister Erynne, who rules at Lionel’s side (or around him when she can). Truly, I’m too far down in the pecking order to be bothered with war updates. “Are you certain it’s for me?” I ask the messenger. “I’m Princess Candra, not Queen Erynne.”
“It is for Princess Candromeda. Others were sent to the queen and the king.”
Well, that’s not good. He holds it out for me to read, but I’m too busy getting my daily stabbing. Plus, I’m not much of a reader. That’s Riza. She handles all my correspondence. “Read it out to me.”
Looking uneasy, he breaks the wax seal and unfolds the thick parchment, scanning the contents. My arm burns and pinches with the influx of medicine into my veins, and then Nurse presses a towel on my arm to stop the bleeding. Done for this day, at least. “To Princess Meryliese’s family. The esteemed princess set sail upon the Northern Light as was commanded by King Lionel last month, with her destination the Tower of Balance. I regret to inform you that the Northern Light ran into a sandbar—” He chokes upon the words as Riza gasps and Nurse goes still. “—and the hull of the good ship was destroyed. There were no survivors. Please inform the king that we await news of the Vestalin line and advice as to whom shall take Royal Offering Meryliese’s place. Yours sincerely, the Archbishop of the Alabaster Citadel, First of his Line.”
I swallow hard. I’m speechless.
At my side, Riza begins to weep quietly even as Nurse rubs cream into my arm so I won’t get an infection. I have no tears. I don’t remember Meryliese. But only myself and Erynne are left in the line of Vestalin. And one of us has to be the sacrifice to the tower.
I suddenly want to hide in my closet again.
I hold my hand out for the message. The man hands it over to me and I stare at the important looking parchment, as if it somehow holds answers to the very real problem of my sister’s death. I want to feel something for Meryliese, but I don’t. I have vague memories of a toddler with ebony curls like Erynne’s and bright green eyes. I remember my mother’s relief upon hearing that Meryliese wasn’t cursed. I remember my mother waving her handkerchief bravely as the Alabaster Citadel sent monks and priestesses to come and take my sister away, and I remember Mother crumpling the moment they were out of sight. She’d cried for three days, and then dried her tears, never to cry over it again.
A Vestalin must always do her duty, she’d told me and Erynne. But her focus was on Erynne as she said the words, because I’m cursed and useless. I remember that, just like I remember Erynne’s brave smile.
Poor Erynne. She’s just as trapped to her destiny as Meryliese. I’ve been the only one with a modicum of freedom because of the curse that makes it impossible for me to carry on our bloodline. I’m too weak, too fragile for childbirth. With the curse in my blood, I must eat regular meals and avoid strenuous activity, lest the bad blood go straight to my heart. My sister Erynne has always been the important one. She spent her childhood preparing to marry a king while I spent mine trying to avoid my nurses for the inevitable needles. Erynne learned to speak four languages and how to ride a horse. I learned that I get headaches if I sit up too quickly after taking my medicine, and it’s best to take a brief nap afterwards. Erynne can read and write, draw and sing.
I read passably, but can barely scrawl my name. No one cares, because I’m the cursed one.
At least, no one has cared until today. But now that Meryliese is dead, I worry what this means for myself and Erynne. I stare at the letter in my hand and then crumple it and toss it aside. “You said this was delivered to the king and my sister a short time ago?”
“Aye, my lady.”
Dragon shite. That means they’re going to want to see me soon. I jump up from my chair and then immediately get dizzy, the concoction racing through my veins with painful heat. Immediately, I sit down again, pressing my fingertips to my brow as I break out into a cold sweat.