Page 151 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

They returned quickly, albeit with a bit of a wobble and a string of curses as broad daylight accosted my eyes for the first time since I’d left the arena after my first two trials.

A moment after my vision adjusted, I realized why Jasper was still as a statue.

My room had been ransacked.

Not that there was exactly anything of value housed anywhere in it to be taken. But furniture was toppled, and linens were strewn about. Every cupboard and drawer was opened, their contents dumped out on the floor.

Something that looked an awful lot like tar was poured over spans of it in hasty lines, too.

I stepped away from Jasper and let out a quiet breath of, “No.”

The small vanity I’d spent so much time at had shards of its broken mirror all over its surface.

Pots of cosmetics and creams Eilir had willed life back into were shattered on the floor.

My notebook had its pages torn out and strewn about, a tar boot-print on its leather cover.

And in the mess of paper and glass and tar was a glint of gold that made my heart bottom out. I ran over and carefully plucked my father’s pendant from the detritus with shaking hands.

After I wiped it on my skirt, it didn’t seem to be damaged, but its leather cord was ruined, and the red gem set in the gold was caked with black.

When I’d been getting ready the morning of my first trial, I wrapped it up carefully in a scarf and tucked it away in one of the drawers.

As much as I wanted to have a piece of my father with me, I hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of something happening to it, not knowing what I faced.

So, leaving it somewhere inherently secure was an easy decision.

But clearly, I’d been a fool to think my new sanctuary was actually safe.

“Give me that.” Jasper’s touch came down on my shoulder gently, and he eased the pendant from my fingers. “I’ll get it cleaned up. I’ll get all of this cleaned up. See if you can find anything to wear and get to the barracks.”

A shaky breath clawed out of my quickly numbing body, and I nodded.

If I kept moving, I could stave off the panic building in my chest just long enough.

In the tossed contents of my closets, I found a pair of pants only slightly marred by oily-black residue, and a shirt rumpled beneath a pile but clean.

I changed into them both as fast as I could, letting my body propel me on instinct while my mind toed dangerously close to freaking out before I hurried into the bathroom to get another tie for my hair.

Jasper had beaten me there.

Despite the obvious effort he was making to wipe off the mirror in hurried swipes of a cloth, the tar was unforgivingly thick, and I could still make out the letters scrawled across the glass.

ODESSAN WHORE.

HALF-BREED BASTARD.

A lump built quickly in my throat, and I no longer questioned who could’ve done such a thing to my private space.

Who held enough hate that they’d ruin the things of a woman who had nothing to her name? I knew a few Elixia who did.

A woman who wasn’t a threat.

A woman who, arguably, was not one of consequence.

Not one of importance either.

But a whore? I could arguably be called that, with how I found comfort in physicality.