Chapter 25
Right before dawn, as usual, the bedroom door opened.
But unlike usual, it didn’t slam hard enough to rattle the walls. The sound was so soft this morning that I didn’t open my eyes until I felt a light touch against my shoulder, a gentle hand patting me awake.
I shot upright, jerking hard enough that the kitten went tumbling from the bed with a startled yowl. It hit the floor badly, scrambled sideways across the rug, and disappeared into the corner with an indignant hiss.
Blinking blearily, I looked up at the figure standing over me.
Not Segolayne.
The blonde servant girl from the dining hall stood there instead.
She bowed her head quickly in silent apology before suddenly starting and glancing downward.
The kitten had emerged from beneath the chair and was now winding itself around her ankles.
She smiled down at it—small and close-lipped—before cautiously brushing her fingers over its bony back.
“Where’s Segolayne?” I asked.
The servant glanced up at me and shook her head slowly before giving a small shrug.
My stomach tightened. “Is she coming back?”
Again, the girl only shrugged. Then she pressed a hand lightly against her own chest before gesturing toward the door.
“You’re taking me to my lesson?”
She nodded once.
“Will Segolayne be there?”
She stared at me mutely.
I exhaled heavily and pushed the blankets aside. “Fine. Let me wash and dress first.”
She bowed slightly and retreated a few careful steps toward the doorway.
“What's your name?”
She paused, her lips pressing together uncertainly.
“It's alright,” I said more gently. “I'm Elowen.” I waited.
Slowly, she shook her head. Then, after the briefest hesitation, she opened her mouth.
I nearly cried out.
She had no tongue. It had been cut out completely.
A cold sickness crashed through me so suddenly I thought for one horrible moment I might vomit right there onto the floor.
“Who…” She closed her mouth again, alarm flashing across her features at whatever she saw in mine. I hurried to smooth the horror from my face, replacing it with concern. “Who did that to you?”
Her expression darkened immediately.
My pulse throbbed hard enough in my ears that it nearly drowned out the sound of my own breathing. “Lady Levinica?” I asked, almost afraid to know the answer.
To my immediate relief, the servant girl shook her head so emphatically that several curls slipped loose from the tight bun at the nape of her neck.
Then, hesitantly—almost fearfully—she lifted her hands and made a strange fluttering motion with her fingers before pointing toward her temple, staring at me expectantly as though I should understand.
I frowned at her blankly. She repeated the motion more insistently. She tapped the side of her head.
And then it clicked.
Rìan. She meant Rìan. Before the Veil.
My mouth went dry. “He did that to you?”
Her gaze dropped.
“Why?” I whispered.
Sadness flickered briefly across her face before she lifted one finger gently to her lips.
“To keep you quiet?”
A small nod. Understanding crept slowly through me, chilling me all the way to the bone.
“Are… are the others like that too?” The words barely emerged from my throat.
Again, she nodded.
The servants. All of them.
I thought back to the eerie quiet that always filled the castle. I'd assumed the servants were silent because they were frightened—of Aedric. Of me.
But no. They didn't speak because they physically couldn't.
They’d all been mutilated.
“Is Levinica kind to you?” The question escaped before I could stop it. I needed to know. The idea of Levinica—gentle, fragile Levinica—overseeing something so horrific twisted unpleasantly inside me.
Immediately, the servant girl smiled. Softly, she pressed a hand against her chest, right over her heart.
Relief loosened something inside me at once.
Yes. Yes, Levinica was exactly who I thought she was. Kind. Good.
The servant’s eyes drifted toward the bedside table where I’d left the page tucked into the board book—the page where I’d been tracing letters. Shyly, she pointed toward it.
I pulled it onto my lap. She studied the alphabet carefully for a long moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. It quickly became obvious that reading didn’t come easily to her either—perhaps even less easily than it did to me. Slowly, painstakingly, she began pointing out letters one by one.
“N… A… D… J… A…” I sounded out carefully. “Nadja?”
Her entire face lit up. She clapped her hands together excitedly, smiling so broadly that the dark, empty space where her tongue should have been became visible again.
Despite the nausea rolling through my stomach, pride stirred deep within me. I’d read her name. Without Levinica’s lessons, I never would have known it.
“Thank you, Nadja,” I said softly. “I’ll be out shortly.”
She nodded and dipped into another shallow bow before retreating toward the doorway. The kitten immediately padded after her and slipped out at her heels.
For a long moment, I simply stared at nothing.
Rìan had done that to them. To his own servants.
The thought sat like lead in my stomach. It had to be because of the war, because of the secrets he'd kept while trying to conquer Elantis. He hadn't wanted information slipping from his own Court—not even accidentally. So he'd silenced them permanently.
Another reminder of who Rìan truly was. Of the monster I’d bargained with.
And another reason why, the moment our bond was finally severed, I would find a way to destroy him.
To my surprise, it was Veylan waiting at the doors to the chamber. For one unpleasant moment, I thought he would be the one training me, and I nearly turned on my heel.
Nadja dipped into a quick curtsy before hurrying back down the corridor. Veylan opened the door and stepped aside to let me pass.
“Good luck,” he breathed mockingly into my ear.
I spun around sharply. The shadows near the wall twisted faintly before settling back into stillness. He was already gone.
I took a slow breath and turned forward.
I felt him before I saw him, the uncomfortable tightening beneath my ribs growing stronger with every step I took.
The doors to the terrace stood open as usual, though the sea breeze was unusually mild.
I barely noticed. My attention was fixed entirely on the dark figure waiting at the center of the room.
Rìan stood just beyond the edge of the mat, hands clasped loosely behind his back as he watched me approach.
In the dim gray spilling in from the terrace, he looked more like a dark god than anything else—beautiful with the kind of untouchable, inhuman grace that only made him seem more dangerous.
The look in his eyes as they tracked my approach reminded me unpleasantly of a predator studying its prey.
I stopped opposite him. His gaze drifted slowly downward, all the way to my boots, before sliding back up my body to my face with unsettling deliberation. “You’re angry.”
I ground my teeth together hard.
Nadja. The servants. Their missing tongues.
He’d done that to them.
“Yes,” I answered coldly.
His eyes narrowed slightly at whatever he saw on my face.
“Good.” He replied. “Use it.”
And then he moved.
No warning. No explanation. One moment he stood motionless across from me, and the next he was suddenly—there. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.
My back slammed hard against the mat, and before I could even process what had happened, he was on top of me. His legs locked around my hips, trapping me completely, while his forearm pressed tight across my throat. His face hovered only inches from mine.
“Do you yield?” His breath mingled warm against my mouth.
I snarled and fought against him, kicking, shoving, desperately trying to wrench myself free, but it was useless. He barely seemed to notice.
His arm pushed down harder. “Do you yield?” In the half-darkness, his eyes were black pits.
“Yes,” I gasped.
Immediately, the pressure vanished.
He rose fluidly to his feet while I scrambled upright, furious and breathless. He simply gestured for me to take my position across the mat again. Still gasping for air, I obeyed.
Unlike Segolayne, he waited calmly for my breathing to settle before moving again. And, unlike Segolayne, he offered absolutely no instruction before attacking.
Again he lunged.
Again the world flipped violently beneath me.
Again my back struck the mat as he pinned me in the exact same position.
“Do you yield?” he demanded again.
Rage flared through me as I fought against his hold, trying to free even one limb enough to strike back. But every movement only tightened the trap he’d locked me into. Resentfully, I nodded.
“Say it.”
The command scraped across my nerves. “Yes,” I snarled.
He released me at once.
Again I pushed myself shakily upright. Again he waited until my breathing steadied.
And then he came for me a third time.
This time when he released me, fury was vibrating through me so violently I was almost feral with it. Every inch of my body ached. I could feel the bruises forming beneath my skin.
Rìan waited calmly, still as a great hunting cat poised to spring.
“I thought this was a lesson,” I spat.
“It is.”
And then he came at me again. The impact drove the breath from my lungs for the fourth time that morning as he slammed me down.
“Do you yield?”
I stared up at him with pure hatred burning through me.
“You’re not teaching me anything.”
“And I’m not going to,” he replied calmly. Then again: “Do you yield?”
The word tore out of me like a curse. “Yes.”
When I was back on my feet again, I faced him, chest heaving.
“How am I supposed to learn what to do,” I demanded, “if you refuse to teach me?”
He tilted his head. “Teach yourself.”
And then he attacked again.
Again and again he drove me into the mat hard enough to jar my bones. Each time he pinned me so completely I could scarcely move, his forearm firm across my throat while he repeated the same infuriating question. “Do you yield?”
And every single time, eventually, I did.