Chapter 13
Morning came too quickly. The night had passed without disturbance, which surprised me.
I’d expected to lie awake again, restless and turning, but sleep had claimed me, pulling me under despite everything weighing on my mind.
I was grateful for it, even if I didn’t trust it to last. I’d need the strength it had given me to face the day ahead and come through it intact—physically, with my pride still my own. Whatever that would cost me.
I removed my shift and dressed in my leathers, fastening each piece with practiced efficiency.
Before pulling on my boots, I reached beneath my pillow and retrieved my father’s dagger.
The cool metal settled into my palm, its familiar weight anchoring me before I slid it into my boot.
Now that I’d been assigned to Thanor, keeping it with me only in sleep would no longer suffice. I would carry it with me everywhere.
At the small window, I paused and looked out.
The rising sun cast its first light across the pale villas of the Imperial Quarter, washing the stone in soft gold, while the Ludaryn forest grounds stretched beyond.
The world beyond these walls seemed untouched, almost peaceful—as if this place didn’t exist at all.
I allowed myself only a moment. I closed my eyes and drew in a slow breath before letting it go.
Whatever would be asked of me today, I would endure it. I had no other choice.
I crossed the room and stepped into the corridor, the door closing soundlessly behind me. It was empty; the other Bondwards had already left. I was still adjusting to their schedules—they rose before the sun, before the world had even begun to stir. Livia was nowhere to be seen either.
I had promised Jorius I would join him in the mornings from now on, though the thought of enduring Lucina and her minions sat poorly with me. A faint tension strained my neck. After breakfast, only a small window would remain to study the ritual scroll.
Turning through one corridor after another, I eventually found my way into the Grand Hall, having lost my way more than once along the winding paths. Sculptors were already at work on Cassius’s statue, their tools striking stone in a steady rhythm as they carved him into the history of this place.
The sight twisted something inside me. Anger at how casually death was handled here. And something else—deeper, more unsettling—as they shaped him into permanence, into memory, into something that would outlast him. As though this was all that remained of him. As though this was enough.
By the time I retraced my steps through the Atrium and winding hallways, my appetite had faded entirely.
Jorius was already seated at the far end of the table, lounging easily in his chair, his usual smirk settled in place.
He was speaking with the twins, their laughter carrying across the room before Talia noticed me.
She and her brother rose to greet me, their smiles easy, and I returned them with measured caution.
My shoulders remained tense as I sat, the persistent sense that anyone here could be out to kill me lingering beneath every movement, every glance. Even here. Even now.
“Good morning,” Jorius turned toward me as he broke off his conversation.
Up close, the gray of his leathers made his eyes appear even brighter.
I exhaled slowly before he continued. “I’m proud of you for daring to venture into the most perilous corner of the Bondward Wing so early. Very brave of you.”
Goddess. I wasn’t in the mood for him. Not today.
“I’m disappointed to see you’re still so bright and shining this morning,” I said dryly. “Which tells me your private parts have, regrettably, gone untouched.”
He laughed, unfazed. “Now that’s a cruel way to greet a man. But if you’re truly so concerned…” His gaze flicked briefly to my mouth. “You could always rectify the situation yourself.”
A groan slipped out before I could stop it. “You’re determined to be the biggest flirt this place has ever seen, aren’t you?”
He reached out, giving my back a brief, familiar pat. “I’m simply looking forward to today. The cleansing ritual always leaves me feeling renewed. You might come to enjoy it as well. You could stand to loosen up a little.”
I turned to him, lowering my voice so it wouldn’t carry. “This isn’t a laughing matter. For me, this is serious.”
The humor faded from his expression. “I didn’t mean to make light of it. This place bares its teeth fast on those who aren’t used to it. I’ve been here so long that I tend to forget.” He studied me carefully. “I’m sorry.”
Then he gave me a radiant smile. Just the sight of him and his effortless charm made regret surface. I rubbed my hands over my face. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. It’s just—I’m nervous. More than I care to admit. I haven’t read the scroll yet, but my mind has conjured the worst.”
“You’re forgiven. But Tina, listen to me. You’ll be in control. Entirely. Besides—if Lucina survives it with Sevrak, then you’ll survive it with Vayren.”
Her name carried farther than it should have. At the end of the table, her head turned, and she flicked her sleek silver-blond hair over one shoulder before fixing her pale eyes on me.
Not a trace of kindness in it.
“Our champion’s Bondward,” she called, her tone edged with mockery. “Have you ever performed a ritual cleansing before?”
So everyone already knew I was his Bondward. Blending in would now be impossible. I sighed, keeping my eyes on the empty plate before me. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Her lips curved, slow and knowing. “Of course not. I should warn you—Vayren has certain preferences when it comes to a woman’s touch. It’s not knowledge easily earned.”
Iris and Mira giggled at her sides.
“Still,” she continued, tilting her head, “failure has its uses. If you perform poorly enough, perhaps it will hasten Sevrak’s ascent, and that monster will finally—”
My chair scraped against the floor as I rose before she could finish. It seemed far louder than I intended, drawing every eye toward me. Conversation stilled. Even the servants seemed to hesitate.
Too many eyes on me. What was I doing? Why did her words provoke me at all? I found no answer. No retort strong enough to match her. Nothing I could say without giving her more.
Her smirk deepened, satisfaction flickering across her features.
“I’m no longer hungry,” I said. “Sorry, Jorius.”
I left before she could speak again. As I crossed the threshold, Jorius raised his voice for the entire dining hall to hear.
“Careful,” he called, his tone edged. “You shouldn’t take pride in sharing our champion’s bed.
Perhaps if you had satisfied him in any meaningful way, he wouldn’t have shut the door in your face last night. ”
I didn’t stay to hear Lucina’s reply.
Footsteps then followed me into the corridor, quickening until they caught up. A firm hand closed around my shoulder. “Don’t let her get to you,” Jorius said. “This isn’t like you.”
I turned toward him, though I didn’t meet his eyes.
“Her words,” he continued, softer now, “they’re poison.”
He stepped in front of me, forcing me to look at him, his expression uncharacteristically earnest. “You’re the most spirited woman I’ve ever met. If anyone can stand up to Vayren, it’s you. And I promise—it isn’t as terrible as you’re making it out to be. Just read the scroll.”
I brushed away the moisture at the corner of my eye before it could fall.
“Emotions have been rising within me for a while now,” I admitted, my voice low.
“My uncle still lies unconscious, even though Marcus assures me he’s healing.
I haven’t been given permission to see him, and I miss him.
” I drew a slow breath. “And beyond that… every decision I make here feels like it belongs to someone else… It isn’t the ritual itself that frightens me.
” I hesitated. “It’s what touching him might do to me. ”
His grip on my shoulder eased, and I finally looked at him.
“I feel… strange around Thanor,” I whispered.
“Elion will recover,” he said, his voice gentle.
“I’ve seen men linger longer than this and still return whole.
” For a moment, he looked past me, his expression turning haunted.
“And you,” he added, reaching to brush a loose strand of hair back from my face, his touch lasting a little too long, “you are not a woman without control. Quite the opposite. Considering everything you’ve endured, a lesser woman would have broken long ago. ”
“Jorius…”
He cleared his throat. “What do you mean when you say you feel strange around Vayren?”
Could I trust him? My instinct said yes. But instinct had led me wrong before. Still… I chose to take the risk.
“You can’t speak of this to anyone,” I said. “What I’m about to tell you—only my uncle knows.”
Before he could respond, I caught his sleeve and drew him toward a narrow alcove, partially hidden in shadow. I glanced once down the corridor, listening, waiting until I was certain we were alone. Only then did I release him.
“I was pierced at the Temple of Lunarion, like everyone else,” I began, my voice low. “But ever since then… something changed.”
My fingers rose without thought, brushing the earring along my helix.
“It didn’t only mark me. It… awakened something.”
I lowered my hand.
“I feel things,” I continued. “Sensations. Intentions. Most often they come as warnings. They feel like heat, cold, pressure—something I can’t always explain. Near the Praetor, the sensation hardens. Near Lucina, it turns… unpleasant.”
“But near Thanor…” My jaw tightened, the memory of it enough to stir warmth beneath my skin. “It burns.”
“I reject it completely,” I said. Color rose to my cheeks despite myself. “But I can’t stop it.”
He went still, studying me in a way that felt different, an odd look crossing his face as his fingers brushed the silver piercing along his brow.
“Do you know why it’s different for you?” he asked after a moment. “Does your uncle? Did something go wrong with the ritual?”
“I don’t know. And Elion… refuses to answer my questions.
He forbids me from speaking of it. It doesn’t always align with my mind.
Or my will. I hate Thanor—there has never been any doubt in that.
” My fingers curled at my sides. “And yet… this makes everything involving him more complicated than it should be.”
He drew me into a warm embrace. I returned it without hesitation. His voice lowered near my ear. “Vayren would never jeopardize his position as champion. I’ve never once seen him lose control. You’ll be fine.”
He pulled back slightly. “Just try to hide it from him if you can. You know the warriors have heightened senses… and I don’t know what abilities his bond grants him.
Those things are only shared between warrior and Bondward.
Even Rhenik keeps parts of his from me. You don’t want Thanor using this against you. ”
When he finally let me go, I felt lighter than I had in days.
The tension in my limbs had eased, if only a little, and for the first time in a while I could breathe without it pressing down.
We parted in the hallway. Something in his expression gave me pause.
There had been a hint of sadness, quickly hidden.
From now on, I would be careful. No half-smiles that meant more than I intended. No softness that could be mistaken for something deeper. Our friendship mattered too much to me. As did Livia. They were the only friends I’d ever had.
His warning stayed with me as I walked. I’d seen Thanor’s strength and speed in the Maw. His unnatural healing at the Aedile’s villa. But other than that I was painfully ignorant of the mechanics of his bond. Irritation flickered. He likely wouldn’t tell me if I asked.
The door of the library closed behind me as I made my way to a corner by the window. The quiet inside felt heavier than the hallway had, pressing in around me as I sat.
Dust motes drifted lazily in the air, disturbed only by my movement. I took a slow breath before reaching into my satchel for the cursed scroll. The parchment felt brittle, dry against my skin as I unrolled it across the table. Faint stains of incense marked the edges. I smoothed it flat.
Instructions for the Ritual Cleansing.
I skimmed past the introduction, searching for what mattered.
Oil infused with consecrated herbs was to be worked into the Saber Warrior’s body—every part of it.
I stilled. This was what the fanatics called a ritual?
Once anointed, he would enter the springs, the heat preparing him for what followed. I’d have to light the provided incense until it thickened the air and clung to our lungs. Then he’d have to step into the springs before drinking the cleansing draught.
It would cause him pain. That much was clear. And while he endured it, I’d have to speak the Bondward incantation. No mistakes. No interruption.
By Lunara’s gaze, by moon and bone,
I bind what flesh and pain have sown.
Let steel remember every scar,
For balance lives in what we are.
By silver light, let lifeblood mend,
By sunlit strength, let fury bend,
Let flesh submit, let will be strong,
Through light and shadow, bound as one.
I didn’t read the words twice. I didn’t need to. The words felt seared into my mind. My pulse hammered.
He would be naked.
Lunara preserve me.
My hands closed into fists on the table as I lowered my forehead to the wood and groaned. I stayed like that for a moment until footsteps approached.
“Bondward Valentina. The last pairing has vacated the Ludaryn Springs.” A houseguard’s voice shattered the silence. I straightened slowly, lifting my head to face him, my throat tight as his words sank in.
“You are expected to perform the ritual now.”