Daughters of the King |✓|

Chapter Nineteen

"Olya." My mother appeared in my doorway some days later, her colorful dress spilling onto the dark hardwood floor of my bedroom in a disgusting show of luxury. She certainly was long passed wearing black. She'd moved on to a different kind of performance—she'd built herself a whole new identity. It was both frightening and impressive. "I'd like you to join us for the session today. We're having it downstairs in the den."

I didn't look up from my reading. Most books were banned, so they were hard to find and expensive if you did, and I intended to make the best of having some at my disposable while we were here. "The floors are marble down there. Won't it hurt the knees?"

"We laid a carpet."

"Okay, but how does it work? The self-criticism, I mean. How am I supposed to do it?"

"Who the hell cares?" she said. "Just sit there with your head to the floor like the rest of them."

I put my book down and laughed quietly at her. The woman might appear entirely different from the exterior, but deep down, the core of her never changed.

We descended the stairs linked arm-in-arm because my mother insisted on it, and the staff looked up as we entered the den, smiling as though we were a sweet mother-daughter duo. They had a fire roaring, and just as promised, the furniture had been moved to make room for a big carpet of furs, thick and comfy.

Zelle beamed brightly as I descended onto the floor beside her. She was wearing her best clothes. Everyone was. The sessions were intended for the reflections of your sins, but there was still something ceremonious about it. They were about self-improvement, after all, and the clothes seemed to be a part of that.

"I should have dressed better," I said.

"I'm just so glad you've come," Zelle whispered earnestly.

I still thought she was crazy, but I didn't say anything as we assumed our positions. I was just glad to see her pleased with me, since I'd begun to warm up to her recently and I didn't mind her company as much as before.

I copied her movements as she tucked her legs beneath her and then laid her hands flat into the fur, before bending forward until her forehead touched the floor. My back felt stretched once I was in the right pose, but it eased the pressure of gravity on my core in a way that was surprisingly pleasant.

Then we all closed our eyes, and that was it.

Zelle was taking deep breaths, and holding them in before releasing slowly, so I copied that, too. The idleness made me anxious at first, but I grew accustomed to it after some minutes, and then all that was left was the sound of breathing; the whistling of cold winds outside; a big bird screaming somewhere in the distance.

Despite my intentions, I thought of Gunnar. I wondered where he was and what he was doing. I wasn't entirely used to not having him around anymore, and I could still perfectly recall the way his face looked when he slept, or when he was angry. I might even have missed him, if I'd been someone else.

But I wasn't someone else.

My muscles started to cramp after a while of holding the same position. I was relieved when some of the others began to stand up, so I could follow suit. Zelle didn't move an inch, though, and her face remained twisted in concentration. She must have heard me get up, but she showed no sign of being aware of her surroundings at all. This was only her first session of the day, and she'd probably have another two sessions before the day was over.

I filed out of the room with the others so I wouldn't disturb her and followed my mother down to the kitchen for something to eat. The regulations for food distribution didn't matter as much out here, so there was more food in the pantries and cold storage than I'd ever seen before, and since the house stocked guns, I intended to go hunting myself, so we could have meat, too. I'd already spotted species of waterfowl in the area, and I could probably take the dog with me.