Fires of Treason - Erin O'Kane Page 0,29

he’s been getting in and out of the castle, but I don’t want to know. The less I know, the better. All I know is that he’s gone, and the pull in my chest feels like it’s…stretched, getting weaker the further he travels. He mentioned that he’d been drawn to me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he can feel a pull like I do. I should have asked him. Next time I see him, I’ll ask, I promise, as I make my way through the castle.

It’s quiet, far quieter than it would usually be, and I think I know the reason as I round a corner. Two priests, dressed in their black robes are walking towards me, their faces set into frowns as they see me.

“What is your business here?” the one on the right demands. I don’t recognise either of them, but they don’t look kind, in fact, the one on the left is practically sneering at me. It’s completely at odds to the gentle, loving nature of our Goddess. Sure, the Great Mother can be wrathful, but she loves her followers like they’re her children.

“I’m just heading back to my rooms,” I reply with a frown, wondering why they’re questioning me. We are in the residential part of the castle, it should be obvious where I’m going.

The blow to my stomach takes me by surprise and I bend over, the air knocked from my lungs. Pain flashes through me and I instinctively prostate myself onto the floor, my body kicking into survival mode, remembering my days as a slave.

“Pay your respects to the priest,” the priest on the left, the one who hit me, hisses. This one enjoys violence, I can hear it in his voice.

“I’m sorry, priest,” I gasp out, keeping as still as I can on the floor.

“This one knows how to apologise properly. On her knees like she should be.” Disgust runs through me as he speaks and my anger flares to life, hot and fast, capable of burning us all. Thankfully, the sound of another pair of footsteps reaches us, and I feel a flash of magic—a magician.

Please be someone I know. There are other castle magicians I’ve not yet met, older ones who spend most of their time studying. Don’t let it be Pierre, I plead quickly, amending my previous statement, only imagining his expression of quiet delight.

“Clarissa?”

Wilson. Relief floods through my system as I hear the familiar voice. Thank the Mother. His magic pulses again, and the priests are suddenly blasted back a couple of feet, falling to the ground. I watch in shock, my mouth open as the priests lie on the ground, unmoving for a couple of seconds. I hear one of them groan but can’t see anymore as Wilson runs over and kneels in front of me, brushing his hand over my hair and cupping my cheek. Moving his hands to my shoulders, he helps me stand, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“How dare you harm a priest,” one of them rasps, and as we turn to face them, I see the pure hatred in his eyes as he glares at Wilson.

“You harmed a woman who is Goddess blessed,” my friend growls, and I can feel his magic swirling around him with his anger. I’ve never seen Wilson like this before. He takes a step in front of me, as if to protect me from the priests. I’m worried he’s about to go into euisa, so I place a hand on the small of his back.

“Wilson, I’m okay. Let’s go,” I say quietly. I’m concerned they’re going to try and pick a fight with us, so I just want to get away from these two as soon as possible.

“The king will hear about this,” the mouthy one snarls as they hurry past us, and even as they leave, I can feel their eyes still boring into my back.

“Are you okay?” Wilson asks, as he starts to lead me towards Grayson’s rooms. Seeing my nod, he shakes his head and glances over his shoulder as if he expects the priests to be following us. “Maybe it would be best if you don’t walk around on your own for now,” he suggests, and I quickly nod my head in agreement.

I’m still in shock over what happened, it was so unprovoked. As a slave, I learned to expect pain and violence all the time, but as Clarissa I discovered I had some protection from random acts of violence. Not anymore, at

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