The Heart of Betrayal (The Remnant Chronicles #2) - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,18

searching me, when all he should have done was look away. I gave him one pleading glance, hoping he understood, and I averted my gaze, praying to the gods that the Komizar hadn’t seen.

Calantha sat next to Rafe, her baubled blue eye staring at me, her other milky blue eye scanning the table. She lifted the plate of bones, skulls, and teeth that had been set in front of her and sang out in Vendan. Some of the words I had never heard before.

“E cristav unter quiannad.”

A hum. A pause. “Meunter ijotande.”

She lifted the bones high over her head. “Yaveen hal an ziadre.”

She laid the platter back on the table and added softly, “Paviamma.”

And then, surprisingly, all the brethren responded in kind, and a solemn paviamma was echoed back to her.

Meunter. Never. Ziadre. Live. I wasn’t sure what had just happened, but the tone had turned grave. A chant of some sort. It seemed to be said by rote. Was it the beginning of a dark barbaric ritual? All the frightening stories I had heard about barbarians as a child came flooding back to me. What were they going to do next?

I leaned close to Kaden and whispered, “What is this?” Calantha passed the platter down the table, and the brethren reached to take a bone or a skull.

“Only an acknowledgment of sacrifice,” Kaden whispered back. “The bones are a reminder that every meal is a gift that came at cost to some creature. It is not taken without gratitude.”

A remembrance? I watched as the platter was passed and fearsome warriors reached into the pile and attached bleached fragments to the slitted tethers at their sides. Every meal is a gift. I shook my head, trying to dispel the discord, to erase an explanation that didn’t quite fit the space I had already created for it. I recalled the gaunt faces that had looked into mine as I passed through the city gates and the fear I had felt at hearing the bones rattle at their sides. My first impressions had planted dark thoughts of bloodthirsty barbarians showing off their savagery.

I didn’t realize I was scowling until I saw the Komizar staring at me with a smug grin twisting his mouth. My ignorance was exposed, at least to him, but I had also caught his subtle observance of Kaden. A slow, casual perusal. It still ate at him. Kaden had followed my orders and not the Komizar’s.

When the platter of bones was passed around me to a governor, I reached out and grabbed a bone. It was a piece of jaw with a tooth still anchored in it, boiled clean of every scrap of flesh. I felt Rafe watching me, but I was careful not to look his way. I stood and pulled a raveled string from my hem, then tied the bone and tooth around my neck.

“Can you recite the words too, Princess Arabella,” the Komizar called out, “or are you only good at creating a show?” An invitation to speak to them in their own tongue? He had unwittingly played into my strength. I might not have known what every word meant, but I could repeat every one. A few would do. “Meunter ijotande. Enade nay, sher Komizar, te mias wei etor azen urato chokabre.”

I spoke it flawlessly and, I was certain, with no hint of an accent. The room fell quiet.

Rafe stared at me, his mouth slightly open. I wasn’t sure if he understood or not, but then Calantha leaned close to him whispering the essence of the words: You’re not, dear Komizar, the only one who has known hunger. The Komizar shot her a condemning glance to silence her.

I looked at the long line of brethren that included Griz, Eben, Finch, and Malich. Their mouths, like Rafe’s, hung open. I turned back to the Komizar. “And if you’re going to address me with ridicule,” I added, “I’ll ask that you at least address me correctly. Jezelia. My name is Jezelia.”

I waited, hoping for a reaction to my name, but there was none—not from the Komizar or anyone else. My bravado plummeted. None of them had recognized it. I lowered my gaze and sat down.

“Ah, I forgot, you royals are rich enough to have many names, just like winter coats. Jezelia! Well, Jezelia it is,” the Komizar said, and lifted a mocking toast to me. Laughter rolled off tongues that only seconds ago I had silenced. Jests and more mocking toasts followed. He was accomplished at twisting