Page 62 of Bred
“What woman wouldn’t?” she scoffed. “I was a beauty in my younger days, I could have turned the eye of a king.”
I could see it… Even though she was well into the winter of her life, the woman peeling potatoes next to me in the kitchen yard had bright golden eyes and silver-gray hair that fell in a thick braid over her shoulder. The lines around her eyes were laugh lines, and her smile was quick and bright.
“So why didn’t you try?”
She shrugged casually. “It’s all about who you know, girl,” she scoffed. “It takes more than a pretty face to qualify. They’re not just offering a night with a king, it’s more than that.”
“So… what happens? If they’re chosen?”
“A life of luxury, so I’m told,” she sighed and dropped the potato she held into the bucket. Water splashed again and soaked into my dress, but I didn’t care. “It’s a rare thing to be chosen as a royal surrogate. I dreamed of it for years, but then life stepped in.” She pointed her peeling knife at me. “But don’t you go getting any ideas. You’re not fit for that—”
A flare of indignation rose up inside me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The woman laughed as I stood up. Water splashed on the ground as I knocked the bucket aside with my boot.
“Don’t take it personally, girl. That life’s not meant for the likes of us.”
“We’ll see about that,” I snapped.
Stupidly, perhaps, I’d been hoping for an ally, or at least a voice that would confirm what I believed — that I could be chosen.
That I could leave this life behind.
But what the older womanhadgiven me was a glimpse of the answer I sought. The royal surrogates were well treated and lived in luxury after their duty to the Jeweled Throne was complete. There was no expectation of a relationship, or service to the king… just a life of blissful excess and ease.
That was what I wanted.
A child was a small price to pay.
CHAPTER TWO
Theapothecaryshopwassmall, but the dirty windows were crowded with a jumble of bottles and scrolls that filled me with a delicious sort of nervousness that twisted low in my belly.
There was no bell over the door, and the hinges creaked loudly as I entered. The roughness of the wood but into my fingers as I pushed hard against the door to open it wider.
The crackle of parchment and the clatter of falling bottles made me flinch. The room was piled high with crumpled pieces of parchment, bundles of crumbling herbs, and mysterious bags and pouches all covered with a thick layer of dust.
I coughed and blinked hard to keep the swirl of it out of my eyes.
“Hello?”
I whispered it, almost hoping that the shop was empty. Nervousness could give way to fear in an instant.
I swallowed hard and stepped into the shop. The door swing closed behind me as soon as I released my grip and I scrambled out of the way as it slammed closed and a small avalanche of parchment and bottles cascaded to the floor.
“What are you doing?
The voice was commanding, but as brittle as the parchment that littered the floor.
Cheeks burning, I scrambled to push some of the mess back into the pile behind the door, but it slipped didn’t around me and only made matters worse.
How was I going to get out?
“I— I’m sorry,” I stammered as I pushed at the parchment tower again. “I thought you’d be able to help me.”
“With what,” the voice snapped.
I gave the parchment one final push and winced as another bottle tumbled down and rattled across the uneven floorboards. With a grimace, I pulled the royal notice out of my pocket and held it out as I strode toward what I hoped was the shop’s main counter.
