Chapter 85 Darkness In The Gathering

• *Xelina*
• The stone floors are cold beneath my knees as I scrub, the coarse brush scratching over soot and mud tracked in from the courtyard. My fingers ache, raw from the lye, but Mireth will inspect them later, and Goddess help me, if there’s a smear left, I’ll be cleaning all night. The gathering is only hours away, and every surface must shine as if the Moon herself might descend to dine.
• I rinse the cloth and wring it out, watching dirty water drip into the bucket. My reflection wavers on the surface–dull eyes, my hair braided tightly back, a plain brown tunic clinging damp to my arms.