Rhea wants nothing more than to kill her father. But not just because he's any run-of-the-mill scumbag. No, he's a god. And he's the one who cursed her with being a goldblood -- half human, half godling. Good for her, she's willing to do anything to...
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I SIT.
I expect there to be tense silence, but almost as soon as I'm on the ground, sitting with my legs crossed, conversation starts again.
Everyone is comfortable here, I realize, as I look around the room. Their shoulders are lowered, their jaws loose. They sit back, hands on the ground, legs spread in front of them.
I've never sat like that in my life. Even before I was a Rozi.
My natural instinct is to cross my arms across my chest and look unafraid. I want to fidget with my dagger threateningly.
The man who told me to sit before stops me.
"Don't be afraid," he says. His voice is still rough, but his eyes are sympathetic.
My blood recoils. Pity? Sympathy? I don't need those. I just want answers.
But I don't even know where to begin asking my questions.
"What is this?" I say, hand gesturing at the group of people, eyes still trained on him.
"What do you think?" he says, studying me.
I don't answer.
After a while, he snorts, the sound nothing more than a quick exhale through his nose.
"Come, take a walk with me," he says.
I don't mention that he was the one who told me to sit down.
I get up and walk beside him, wary. He walks to the far side of the cavern, so the fire flicking in the middle is but a distant blaze. It casts the faintest of orange glows here, where we stand.
With our backs toward the wall, he says to me, "Where did you come from? What was your story?"
I still don't answer.
I'm not about to give anything away until I know exactly what this is and why I'm here.
He does the snort-exhale again.
"I was left on the front steps of a wealthy family in the capital. My parents didn't even know what I was at birth. They gave me the best childhood anyone in the Fens could want. Tutors, horses, a bow and arrow. Books, tailored clothes, a sword. I had everything."
I stop myself from smirking. It's easy to see where this story is going. Poor little rich boy, which his whole life ripped away from him once his parents found out his blood was the richest thing of all. Or even better, poor little rich boy running away from home? I could barely stand the irony.
"But when I found out what I was, my parents wanted me to hide it at first. They said it didn't matter. They had raised me all these years to be the heir to their estate, and with me being what I was, they thought it would only sweeten the deal. So I tried that."
