Page 84 of The Cerulean Sister
I look down the long row of food, all of it decadent and perfectly prepared.
There is a lone plate of sugar bread with beautifully etched serving tongs shoved into the heap.
"Sugar bread," I reply, my mouth instantly watering, having not had it since leaving Cosima.
"Sugar bread!" He laughs unnervingly and with a wave of his hand, a server puts the tray in front of me, moving a different, more intricate type of pastry out of the way.
I carefully extract the tongs from the mound and plop two round pieces on my plate, smelling the sugar and hint of cinnamon. I want to smile, to breathe in the still warm bread, but giving Lord Hollis any indication I enjoy his food feels like a betrayal to myself. Instead, I bite into it as he watches me, wipe my mouth, and muster a thin, charitable smile to appease him.
He begins to serve himself a little of everything, tiny portions to sample the entire table before sitting down again.
"How was your slumber?" he asks between bites. "The conjunction darkness tends to ravish my sleeping patterns."
"I slept fine," I say and take a large bite.
"That is good. You will be well rested to begin your duties."
"And what are those?" I ask around another bite, not bothering with proper Estate manners.
"You are to keep the Estate statues, collect the offerings, and replace the altar adornments."
I stare at him, wondering if he is serious. I thought my new post would be more of a punishment, but this is nothingcompared to what I pictured when Crixa said I would have to do labor.
Although, if I was given this task as the priestess I was before, having a post in the Estate library and falling to a position lower than some handmaids, I would have felt very differently. I bow my head to hide my thoughts.
"It could have been much worse," he offers, thinking my silence is devastation. "Though, you will have to work long after your period of atonement to cover the wages of your escorts as well."
"Happy to serve the temple in any way," I say flatly and reach for the platter of seasoned sausage between us.
The moment my hand comes in contact with the sweetly glazed meat, Lord Hollis has my wrist. He squeezes it tightly, constricting his thumb and middle finger into a painful ring.
"Have more sugar bread, High Priestess."
"I have had my fill." I pull on my restraint, trying to get out of his grasp, watching his face for any indication of what I have done to offend him, if my last words were not as sincere as they could have been.
"Have more. Gorge yourself on it." He practically throws my wrist back to me.
"Excuse me?"
His behavior is alarming.
I need to be quicker, figure him out faster, because I can feel myself losing control. It's possible he is more complicated than I imagined.
"Eat. It is your favorite. You willonlyhave your favorite."
"Surely I cannot live off sugar bread." I laugh nervously.
"You will."
Lord Hollis is not someone who dispatches punishment because it is a lesson to be learned, a duty on his part, or reluctantly. He enjoys it.
He is determined to make my time in atonement miserable, right down to exploiting my favorite food. He seeks to ruin even that small joy, to take something I once loved that was mine and erase it.
I place another roll on my plate, the large grains of the sugary cinnamon sticking to my fingers. When I take another bite, I am not met with the same urge to close my eyes and savor it, to sigh deeply at all the fond memories it brings up. Instead, I chew it just enough to get it down and take a sip of stale water.
"And if you are still hungry . . . have another." Lord Hollis watches me with a pleased expression, like he has given me a little treat.
He talks about nothing at all: a crack that formed in one of the walls of the Estate during a tremor being repaired, the flowers that are in season and to be placed on the statues I will attend to.
