The Mayaware's reign must end.
In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if it...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The brides paced around the waiting area, too unnerved to strike a conversation with each other. Rehema, the usual chatterbox, sat in the corner, circling a finger over her knee, mute as a lamb. Hesi sauntered towards Festophis' slate who gathered in a corner. They didn't know how many trials were left, and they resembled cattle lined up for slaughter.
She understood that fear, that dread. Mensa's yoke passed to her, and if not for the Mayaware's ridiculous superstition of harming their guests, she would have been eaten in her sleep. And Kharta was right. They ran that well dry. Because once the High King grew desperate, if she were to survive this trial and whatever followed, there was no telling when and how the royal palace would make a move.
Asrate, the High King's slate, sat on the opposite corner from Rehema. For a woman almost Hesi's age, if not older, she didn't appear as though she spent a long time under the sun, nor did she know the feeling of the scorching heat without a roof overhead. Far too dainty, far too perfect; no wonder the High King had so much confidence in her. Even when Hesi taught the other brides how to take down a Mayaware, Asrate was the fastest to learn, as though she was merely faking having never held a knife before.
But she was not the enemy. Not by a long shot. She was a rival, someone who stood in Hesi's way towards the throne. Because whether Hesi liked it or not, Asrate held the biggest sway to the prince's decision. Mezo wouldn't act against his father, not when it was the empire's future at stake. He didn't spend his life cooped up in that dingy cave if he didn't give a flying darpeh about his father.
Hesi caught Asrate's gaze, as though the bride sensed Hesi's thoughts. They gave each other brief nods, neither aware of what ran through the other's head. If Asrate knew what Hesi had in her sleeve, would she join in or would she run back to her benefactor? Hesi scanned the brides' faces. Which one would bite the first bone the generals offered them should they know why Hesi was here and what she did to the woman she replaced?
She has to make her move soon. Her inaction could only get her this far.
"Hesi." A voice from the empty chamber's doorway made her turn. Kharta's concerned expression drew her away from the brides. Eyes bored into her back, rummaging her head for anything that might reveal her relationship with the steward. Would they find evidence of last night? She washed them off this morning.
Her nails dug on her arm as she followed Kharta into a deserted hallway made of rough sketches of stone. Away from the Mayaware guards. Away from unwanted ears from listening into the coming conversation. Without a word from his mouth, she knew what it was about.
"What happened last night?" Kharta shoved his fingers into his hair and tousled his curls so effortlessly that she had to look away before she did something...inappropriate. "I can't seem to remember."
Of course, he wouldn't. She ensured that. Because last night...
