Page 95 of House of Crimson Kisses
Chapter27
OCTAVIA
My mother is a liar.
It becomes a mantra. I cannot say, or do, or think anything else other than my mother is a liar.
Of course, I recognised on a subconscious level that she had done awful things over the years. I am not naïve. Plus, she told me I was adopted.
But she told me she didn’t know who my birth mother was. I lived a thousand years not knowing where I came from or how I came to be. Only that I was. It is the most isolating of experiences to not know why you exist, to not understand why you are the only one of your kind.
And she fucking knew the entire time.
All of us competitors were silent when we finally returned to the chamber after the spirit trial. No one spoke a word as we left the church. Each of us was pale and drawn. My siblings’ eyes held a horror that made me shiver every time I looked at them. All of us, save Sadie, looked like ghosts. But then, Sadie was always going to be the most prepared.
The points-awarding ceremony was a muted affair. Red and I were the second out of the trial. We didn’t win—predictably, Sadie did. The Mother of Blood gifted her the clue to the boundary. The amulet is to be placed in a lock somewhere on the southern exterior edge of the boundary. But the Mother of Blood also warned her that there would be demonic creatures waiting for us when we crossed the threshold, and fangs may not be enough weaponry. A useful warning if nothing else.
Mother distributed the points. We are in the lead, much to Dahlia’s dismay.
The points stand as such:
Red and I are the lead with seven.
Sadie was out first, but she didn’t score in the first trial. So, she’s in second place with five points.
Dahlia and Lincoln were out third, and got three points, plus her one point from the first trial. Meaning they’re on four.
Xavier came out next with Talulla, though she took her time rousing. They scored two plus their one from the map trial, meaning they’re on three.
Gabriel came out last, and unfortunately, Keir had to be forcibly withdrawn. Cordelia was all for leaving him under, but the Chief made some vocal threats and Cordelia broke the rules and dragged him out, though none of us are sure exactly what the damage will do to him. Given the awful things we experienced, I imagine he’s rather traumatised. They scored five in the first round, though. Technically, they’re in joint second.
This, though, gives me no comfort. While we may be in the lead, we should have been considerably further ahead. These trials are tricky affairs and as has been demonstrated already, anything can happen, and everything can change. A two-point lead does not a confident Octavia make.
As we exit the ballroom in Castle St Clair, the blood stones now assigned to their rightful jars, we leave with whispers of discontent at our backs.
The nobles requested Mother stay behind for discussions, and many of the hunter elders also requested the same of the Chief, so they moved to a different room.
None of them looked happy. There were more protests outside the castle during this points ceremony than ever. The city is wavering. It’s on the precipice of collapse. My heart sinks. The whole reason I’m in this competition is because I want to change the city. But not like this. I want to make it better, build it up so that I finally feel accepted. But it’s not just about me. I don’t want anyone else to experience what I have. It’s a belief born from the marrow in my bones. This city has to change, and I have to make it a place where anyone on the periphery of our society still feels safe, wanted, and like they belong.
We all walk through these trials with our teeth on edge and our feet on eggshells. All it will take is one pissed-off citizen to lose it, and a lot of people will die.
I don’t think we can come back from something like that.
The nine of us contenders stand outside the castle doors, all staring at each other and wearing the same harrowed expressions.
“I could do with a drink,” Lincoln says.
“Me too,” Red answers, along with a chorus of agreement from everyone.
“Let us drink at the Whisper Club,” I say. “My offering to you all after whatever the fuck that trial was.”
There’s a murmured agreement, and I find myself shocked that not one of my siblings protests.
“Do I detect a moment of peace between us?” I say.
“I think that counts as shared trauma, but if you use it against us, I will knock you out,” Dahlia says.
I roll my eyes, but there’s a small smirk nipping at the corner of both our mouths. It’s these moments that remind me that while we may have originated somewhere else, we are family because we choose to be. We choose to stand beside each other, whether that’s bickering and competing, or having each other’s backs.
