A Crown Of Blades(ARTK, Book 3)

Chapter 35-36

Anor 29th,3330 A.G

Despite her conversations with Ferrant, Auriol hadn't expected this ceremony to come so quickly. Perhaps in a month or two, when she'd receive just one or two questions a day- but it were clear now just how serious he'd been. She stared at herself in the old mirror, but she couldn't help the way her eyes drifted sideways- to the eating dagger on a plate she'd snuck to her room.

  It would be so quick. One hard thrust and then all of this pressure would just melt-

  What were she thinking?

  She could not abandon these people now, when so much of Dedor's peace were reliant on her. Auriol weren't sure how long she stood there; it may have been an hour but this ceremony would not begin without her. She took however many deep breaths were needed to slow her breathing, to make her believe her life wouldn't be so different.

  After that were done with, she left her small chambers and began the walk she'd taken a thousand times. Up those small set of stairs, to the big main room with the spiral staircase- where it would happen.

She opened the door to it slowly, knowing she couldn't take it back once this ritual were carried out.

  And when she finally stepped through that doorway, her eyes scanned over every single temple devotee and trainee alike. Some gathered around the center and ferrant in a circle, others leaned over the railing on the stairs- but as this only happened once in most people's lifetimes (if at all) they would not miss it.

  She made her way to Ferrant with a straight face, not wanting to start of her priesthood with stupid rumors that she cried at the ceremony- though she felt like it. When she finally turned her back to Ferrant and saw that many Commoners had crowded onto the street to watch, that were only amplified (was that a word yet??).

  Ferrant stepped around her until they were facing one another, then spoke words that were not directed at her yet. "Does any individual present here today have any more questions to ask of their high priestess nominee?"

  Auriol looked around, expecting them to come up with ten at once- but everybody were just so tired from their work and fucking sad over Raaf.

The silence stretched on a good hundred moments as they waited for just one- but when a question didn't come Ferrant Proceeded.

  "Very well." He said. "Then if there are no objections it is time for the nominee Auriol's binding."

  Auriol gulped. This were the tradition that made her the most nervous, though it shouldn't have. It were thousands of years old, not meant to be at all sexual- and Raaf had done it too.

  It were a simple necessity, and a way of saying 'I have more important things to worry about than my nakedness'.

  Auriol nodded and held her arms straight out. She were not allowed to remove her own robes for this, rather she had to let others. A high priestess quickly learns how stupid emotions such as shame are. You'll understand what I speak of once it happens to you.

  Two devotees stepped forward, and one stood awkwardly as the other untied her waisband. Once that were over with each took a sleeve and gently pulled- then everything were out for everyone to see. Auriol somehow managed to resist that very strong urge to cross her arms over her chest. Instead,she forced her hands to hang down her sides and touch her upper thighs.

  Ferrant reached onto the small table that were dragged down here, for the only tool needed at this part. He raised an eyebrow, asking one final time if she were ready for this- then got to work when she nodded.