Page 30 of Split or Swallow

The chain was long; the charm fell directly between her breasts. She knew Caspen had made it so, and at the thought, a pulse immediately began to build. Here he was, finally, after an unbearable day of silence. Tem barely had time to close the door to her room before she was on the bed, her hand between her legs. Her other hand was clasped over her mouth; she knew her mother was mere feet away, and would surely hear her cry out. She tried to stay silent through the pulses but it was utterly useless. Caspen was sending them so quickly she could barely catch her breath—it was as if he wanted to overwhelm her, forcing her to feel his presence one last time before tonight.

Tem could hear her mother making dinner, and knew she would leave soon to get vegetables from the garden. The moment she heard the door slam, Tem finished triumphantly, arching her back with a moan. She could feel Caspen’s pleasure, and it matched her own. There was something desperate about their connection tonight, and she wondered if it was because of what would happen later that evening. She lay gasping on the bed, trying to catch her breath, the gold chain tangled around her neck.

She bathed before putting on the dress, finding that it fit perfectly. It hugged her in all the right places, turning her body into something it had never been before—something meant to entice a prince. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to accentuate its length before realizing what she was doing and stopping immediately. She liked her curls. The prince had better like them too.

“Tem?” her mother was knocking on her bedroom door. “It’s time.”

When Tem emerged into the kitchen, her mother’s hands flew to her mouth in shock.

Her mother spoke before she could:

“There’s a carriage waiting for you outside. It will take you to the castle.”

Tem nodded. She had no cloak that would match the luxury of the dress, so instead she went without, stepping into the chilly night and winding down the garden path to the awaiting black carriage. A footman helped her inside, and she sat on the soft velvet bench before looking up at the ceiling, where the royal insignia was etched in gold leaf. It depicted a snake dueling with a rooster. The snake was twisted in obvious pain, trampled beneath the spiny feet of the rooster. It was a clear homage to the war, specifically to the victors. Tem knew that the royals bore the snake on many of their personal items, as a reminder of what they had overcome. Personally, she saw it as a taunt. She couldn’t imagine how a basilisk would feel looking at it.

As the carriage climbed the long hill to the castle, Tem thought about the evening. She was looking forward to seeing Gabriel, since she knew he would be working. But that was the extent of her excitement. The night was sure to be a long, insufferable sequence of formalities. No doubt she would be put on display, paraded around to the royals so they could see their potential newest member.

Tem clasped her hands together tightly.

And then there was the prince. She wondered if she would meet him tonight, or if he’d keep his distance from the contestants. Caspen had said he wished to “see” his potential future wives. That didn’t mean he wanted to talk to them. If it were Tem choosing her future partner, she’d want ample opportunity to get to know them. But that would come later, she supposed. After all, the elimination process hadn’t even begun. The first elimination would happen next week, after the prince had a chance to kiss each girl. That was the traditional timeline, and that was the way things had been done for centuries.

The carriage wound to a halt.

“We’ve arrived, miss,” the footman said when he opened the door.

Tem took a deep breath, unclasped her hands, and climbed out of the carriage. They had parked right in front of the castle, and Tem stared up at the enormous double doors in awe. She had never been here before. She’d only looked up at the castle from down in the village, seeing it from the very bottom of the hill, where it resembled a fancy dollhouse. Now that she was seeing it in person, she realized just how large it was. It sprawled for what seemed like miles, its walls made of stones that almost seemed to glitter. When Tem got closer she saw that the grout holding the bricks together was full of crushed pieces of mirror. Of course the castle would have a last line of defense built right into its structure. As she reached the doors, they swung open.

The first thing Tem noticed was the gold.

It was everywhere: framing the oil paintings on the walls, brushed in intricate patterns on the wallpaper, interlaced in whorls of wood. It was even beneath her feet, flecked into the marble tile of the entryway. Tem had never seen such a blatant display of wealth.

“Name?” a voice asked her.

Tem turned to see a man in a black robe holding a ledger and looking at her expectantly.

“Temperance Verus.”

The man consulted the ledger before giving her a brief nod.

“Right this way.”

He ushered her through the entranceway into a long hall lined with thick maroon carpet. Tem barely had time to blink before he pushed her through another door.

“Don’t wander,” he said before snapping it shut behind her.

Tem was immediately overwhelmed with noise.

She was standing at the edge of a giant ballroom filled with people, most of whom seemed to be well on their way to getting drunk. Tem spotted a few residents of the village, but mostly she was in the presence of royals. She remembered how Gabriel had mentioned that Henry would be ferrying people in from neighboring villages. She could tell which royals weren’t from around here by the way they dressed. Some were wearing furs despite the fact that snow wouldn’t arrive for several more weeks.

Tem set her sights on the tables at the far end of the ballroom, which were piled high with food. The selection resembled the food that Caspen had given her in the cave: fancy meats and cheeses arranged in delicate displays. Tem grabbed a handful of nuts and shoved them into her mouth as she scanned the crowd for Gabriel. To her dismay, he was nowhere to be found. Instead, her eyes fell on Vera, who was giggling in a corner with another girl. When they looked over at Tem, the giggling stopped immediately. Tem gave them a condescending wave, knowing full well that by now, Vera would have told everyone who would listen that Tem was being trained by the Serpent King. The wave was not returned.

The ballroom was lined with thick marble columns, elaborately decorated with carvings of Kora. Like everything else in the castle, they were accented with gold. Tem couldn’t comprehend why such an excessive display of wealth was necessary. Everyone knew the royals were rich. But she had no idea the inside of the castle looked like this. She stared at the tables, loaded with food. She thought of the many nights in her cottage when she and her mother had gone to bed hungry. It didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem right.

Tem wished she could go find Gabriel, but the man at the door had told her not to wander. And why shouldn’t I wander? She thought with sudden conviction. This could be my castle someday.

So Tem turned on her heel and made her way back through the crowd. She slipped into the hallway, sighing in relief at the sudden silence. The hallway stretched out for what seemed like forever in both directions. The walls were covered in dark oil paintings depicting long dead members of the royal family. There was centuries of history here—centuries of heirs birthed solely because of the help of the basilisks.

Tem stopped in front of a particularly large painting of a battle scene. It reminded her of the insignia on the roof of the carriage. Dozens of snakes—huge snakes—were slithering over the ground, headed for a group of horse-bound riders. Some of the riders held roosters, some held mirrored shields. It was the final battle before the war was won; Tem could tell by the way the sky was painted deep blood red. All the old songs spoke of the red sky on that final day. They said that Kora herself bled to make it that color.