What Lies Beyond the Veil (Of Flesh & Bone, #1)(8)

Aside from Byron and his conquests in the privacy of the library, nobody had ever spoken of one in front of me, outside private lessons with my tutor so I knew what to expect come my wedding night. She’d been entirely unaware of how uselessly late that lesson had been for me.

Adelphia took the next piece, and the others followed suit. Without conscious thought, I leaned forward and snatched a piece of cake off the cloth before logic could stop me. Adelphia chuckled at my side, her piece free of omens for the future as she wiped her hands on the grass to rid them of any crumbs.

I lifted the first bite of cake to my mouth, flavors of vanilla and cinnamon on my tongue as I chewed. There was nothing hidden within it, just the sweetness of the cake itself as I watched the others around me chew theirs.

I was through my second bite before something struck my tooth and I raised a hand to my mouth to pull it out. The ring glimmered in bronze against my palm, a sign of the shackle I’d spent my entire life knowing was coming.

Death or prostitution were the only escapes from marriage in the Kingdom of Nothrek. Still, the clear symbol in my palm felt like a noose around my neck, like a death all its own.

“Congratulations are in order; I see?” Adelphia said, her voice tentative. There was no joy on my face at the prospect of my pending nuptials. It didn’t matter that I had no knowledge of who my husband might be.

Men were almost all the same, in the end. Looking for a warm place to stick their cock and a trophy to sow their seed.

“It would seem so,” I said, smiling and trying to shrug off the dread coursing through my veins. I’d never believed in the fortune tellers who worked at the market every week, predicting which of the thirteen lives a person found themselves on in the cycle of reincarnation before the true death. I’d never put any stock in the magical items a person could purchase if they spoke the right words at the right stands.

I wouldn’t start believing in prophecy just because it predicted something I’d always known was coming anyway.

There was a soft thump behind us, the group going still as they looked over my shoulder at the circle. I turned slowly, following their gazes to where a single candle had fallen off its stone and extinguished the moment it touched the grass, as if by an unseen force.

I swallowed, working out the placement for a moment before I turned back to the group with a shaky breath. The silence between them as they watched me rise to my feet spoke volumes about their belief in their Samhain traditions and the clairvoyance they brought.

“I should get home,” I said, looking at the sun just cresting the horizon through the trees.

Adelphia nodded, not even bothering to argue with me. There was nothing left to say.

The only candle that had fallen was mine.





3





“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” my brother quietly observed, nudging me with his shoulder as we walked along the path toward the village center later that morning. Evergreens and oak trees lined the way, stretching to either side of the road. I couldn’t force myself to walk past the gallows and see what remained of the last body they’d hung for crimes against Lord Byron, so we had to take the long route, unlike the other villagers who didn’t seem bothered by the macabre of it all. “Did your walk in the woods not settle you last night?”

I glanced Brann’s way, smiling despite my better instincts when I saw the exasperated smile on his face. His blond hair was cut short, his skin golden from all his time spent working under the hot sun of the harvest season. His brown eyes, which were normally filled with mischief, felt heavy on my face, as though he wanted nothing more than to punish me for continuing to risk my reputation.

He’d long since given up trying to discipline me, knowing that if my lessons with Lord Byron and the Priestess hadn’t successfully made me an obedient woman, he stood little chance of making a difference when he wasn’t willing to hurt me.

It was a miracle he hadn’t nailed my window shut at this point, for all the times he’d caught me sneaking out or back in. He’d been in my room waiting for me when I’d returned home this morning and hauled myself up and into my window in a daze as the sun rose behind me.

“It was an interesting night,” I said, evading telling him about the circle I’d stumbled across. While I didn’t think he would condemn others for practicing a faith different from ours, I couldn't see him being supportive of my risking the gallows for mere curiosity's sake. Especially not when the ritual the night before had predicted my death before the next Samhain.

“You really must stop sneaking out in the dead of night, Estrella,” my mother said, her voice scolding as she twisted to look at me over her shoulder. Brann pushed her wheeled chair in front of him, his fingers gripping the wooden handles tightly. “What will the men of the village think if they find you? No man wants to marry a woman if he has any reason to believe she is not virtuous.”

“That’s hardly a motivation to stay inside. We both know Estrella doesn’t care much for the idea of marriage,” Brann said with a laugh, earning a scoff and chuckle from our mother. She wasn’t exactly supportive of my hatred for marriage and the way women were treated as if we were nothing more than broodmares, but she didn’t condemn me for it in the same way I suspected most would, either.

I loved her all the more for it. Her tolerance for letting me be who I was in the privacy of our home was something that had enabled me to survive the past two years. Since my coming of age, I’d been being poked and prodded at Temple, my face repeatedly turned from side to side and studied, my manners dictated by the Priestesses of the Mother who sought to train me to be a dutiful, obedient wife one day.