Queensmen

Chapter 33

Even a god could not cheat in such a situation.

Oris felt sorry for the parents that had given their daughters away. It seemed that Hermes and his mother were taking extreme measures to thin down the herd.

It made her wonder why the Emperor had gathered so many women in the first place. Where would those who failed this test go to? Would they be expelled from the palace? Executed?

As though the priestess had read her mind, she started speaking again, "This selection will be divided into several categories. Your performance in each will determine your final rank in the palace. Be aware that not everyone will get a position in the harem. Your time begins now."

So that is it. Oris finally returned her gaze to her table, ignoring the burst of conversation that followed the priestess' words.

No candidate was getting expelled, so technically no one could fail the selection. It was just that those with low scores would not serve Hermes in bed.

They would become maids or servants, entertainers if they were lucky.

"Mistress?" Andrea called, her voice filled with worry.

"I am fine," Oris said honestly. A maid could still become an Empress. It had happened before and it will happen again.

She didn't care for the throne though. She just wanted to survive. After that, she would worry about her standing among the women in the harem.

The scribe beside her pulled the red cloth off the table, folding it immediately as what it had covered was finally revealed. Two boxes. When he placed the folded cloth to the side and took the lids off, Oris realized that the boxes contained objects much smaller than their volumes.

Even the small box was larger than the item in the larger box.

Oris felt like laughing. How many psychological tactics will the royal family employ during this selection?

The scribe took out a tablet from the bigger box and a stylus from the small one then set the boxes on the floor, giving Oris more time to examine what was in front of her.

She prodded the side of the tablet with her little finger and stared at the small indentation that formed. It was soft yet firm, like damp clay or soft wood. Whatever was written on it could not be erased, only scratched out.

Keziah had been right. The first test was on writing.

Oris picked up the stylus. It was more ornate than the ordinary-looking tablet, almost see-through with sparkles trapped in the glossing. It was pretty enough to have passed for a slightly bulky hairpin.

She tapped her pointer finger lightly on its sharp tip and felt a sting on her skin. It could be an efficient murder weapon too.

It was too bad that there was no opportunity to test it out without keeping her head. There was no target around her to sacrifice her life for. Why would she try to kill another candidate?

Oris shook her head and set down the stylus, as well her darkening thoughts. It was silly of her to even think of it.

The scribe beside her unfolding a parchment and cleared his throat. "These are the questions."

His voice sounded old and grave, much like that of the priestess he served. He didn't look much older than her but his voice carried the weight of a wizened grandfather.

What an interesting group of people. Oris said nothing and took the parchment as delicately as she could. The feel of the well-treated animal skin beneath her fingers nearly took her into the past, into the four story library in the castle of Orse.