But I couldn’t.

Cheeks burning and eyes stinging, I folded an arm over my chest.

“This is for your own good,” Teerman spoke, his voice going dark and rough as he walked behind me. “This is a necessary lesson, Penellaphe, to ensure that you take your preparations seriously and are committed to them so you do not dishonor the gods.”

He almost sounded like he believed what he said, as if he weren’t doing this simply because it excited him to inflict pain. But I knew better. I knew what Mazeen would do if he could, and I’d seen the look in the Duke’s eyes. I saw it far too many times before when I made the mistake of looking. The kind of look that told me if I wasn’t the Maiden, he would inflict a different kind of pain. Just like I knew Mazeen would. I couldn’t suppress the shudder that followed that thought.

A moment later, I felt his hand on my bare shoulder, and everything in me recoiled. It wasn’t just the touch of his too-cool skin against mine, but it was also what I didn’t feel.

I felt nothing.

No faint trace of anguish that all people carried within them, no matter how long ago the source of the hurt that had inflicted its damage. There was no pain of any kind, and it was that way for every Ascended. While that should bring me some sort of relief that I wouldn’t pick up on pain, it only left me with the feeling of crawling skin.

It was a reminder of how different the Ascended were from mortals, what the Blessing of the gods did.

“Brace yourself, Penellaphe.”

I planted a palm on the desk.

The room was silent except for the sound of the Lord’s deep breaths, and then I heard the soft whistle of the cane cutting through the air a second before it struck my lower back. My entire body jerked as fiery pain rippled across my skin. The first strike was always a shock, no matter how many times it had happened before or that I knew what was coming. Another strike landed across my shoulders, pushing out a rough burst of air as fire swept across them.

Five more.

Another blow landed, and my body trembled as I lifted my gaze. I will not make a sound. I will not make a sound. My hips knocked against the desk with the next hit.

The settee creaked as Lord Mazeen rose.

Skin burning, I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood. I stared through the haze of tears at the painting of the veiled worshippers, wondering how horrible the Atlantians must’ve been for men like the Duke of Masadonia and Lord Mazeen to receive the Blessing of Ascension from the gods.

Chapter 14

The gods had granted me one small favor when I left the Duke’s suite. Hawke hadn’t been waiting for me, and that had been a blessing. I had no idea how I could’ve hidden what had happened.

Instead, it was Vikter who stood silently by the two Royal Guards. Neither looked at me as I stepped into the hall, skin pale and covered in a sheen of cold sweat.

Did they know what had happened in the Duke’s chamber? I hadn’t made a sound, not even when Lord Mazeen had come to stand beside the desk and pulled my arm away from my chest to place it beside my other. Not even when the sixth and seventh blows had felt like lightning streaking across my back, and Mazeen had watched every lash absorbed by my body with eager eyes.

If the guards were aware, there was nothing I could do about that or the bitter bite of shame that somehow burned worse than my back.

But Vikter knew. The knowledge was in the deep lines bracketing his mouth as we walked toward the staircase, each step tugging at the inflamed skin. He waited until the stairwell door closed behind us and then stopped on the landing, concern settling into his light blue eyes as he stared down at me.

“How bad is it?”

My hands trembled as I pressed them against the skirt of my gown. “I’m fine. I just need to rest.”

“Fine?” His sun-kissed cheeks mottled. “Your breathing is rapid, and you’re walking as if each step is a challenge. You have no reason to pretend with me.”

I truly didn’t, but admitting how bad it was felt like I was giving Teerman what he wanted. “It could’ve been worse.”

Vikter’s nostrils flared. “It shouldn’t happen at all.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“Did he break your skin?” he demanded.

“No. There are just welts.”

“Just welts.” His laugh was harsh and without humor. “You speak as if they are nothing more than scratches. Why were you punished this time?”

“Does he need a reason?” My smile was tired and felt brittle, as if it would crack my entire face. “He was upset over my lack of commitment to my time spent with the Priestesses. And today, while I was in the atrium, two Ladies in Wait showed up. He was not pleased about that.”

“How is that your fault?”

“Does it need to be my fault?”

Vikter stared at me, struck silent for a moment. “So, this is why he took the cane to you?”

I nodded, gaze falling to the nearest oval-shaped window. The sun had drifted away while I’d been in the suite, the stairwell not nearly as bright and airy as it had been. “And he didn’t like my attitude during the meeting yesterday. It’s not nearly the most minor offense he has punished me for.”

“This is why I said you must be careful, Poppy. If he lashes you for being in a room while others walk in, what do you think he would do if he learned of your little adventures?”

“Or if he learned that I’ve been training like a guard for years?” My shoulders tightened, the movement pulling at my skin. “I’d be caned, of course. Probably more than seven lashes.”

Vikter’s golden skin paled.

“He may petition the Queen to find me unworthy. And maybe the gods already do,” I continued. “But as you’ve said before, my Ascension will happen no matter what I do. You, though? What would happen to you, Vikter, if it were ever discovered that you’ve been training me?”

“It doesn’t matter what they may or may not do.” There wasn’t a second of hesitation there. “The risk is worth it, knowing you can protect yourself. I would gladly take whatever punishment I received, and I wouldn’t regret what I’ve done.”

I lifted my chin, holding his gaze. “And being able to defend my home, those I care for, and my life is worth the risk of whatever may happen.”

He was quiet for a moment and then his wintery blue eyes closed. He might’ve been thinking of a prayer for patience, something I’d known him to do many times before.