Seas of Crimson Silk (Burning Empire Book 1) by Hamm Emma

Author:Hamm, Emma [Hamm, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2019-01-10T16:00:00+00:00

Sigrid

Sigrid ran through a hundred different scenarios in her head every day, each more detailed than the last, to get out of the Red Palace and into the sands. But no matter how hard she tried, there was always one person who found her out. Namely, the first wife who seemed determined that Sigrid would remain in her room and not touch anything.

Although Sigrid understood her dislike, there was something more than a general disdain for Beastkin. It was almost as if Saafiya was afraid of her. The warrior capabilities of the Wildewyn Beastkin were renowned throughout the realms, and yet it didn’t seem that this was the first wife’s concern.

Eventually, Sigrid could take it no more. She had to sort this out, for her own peace of mind and to ensure Saafiya wouldn't interfere. She didn’t care if the woman wanted to hate her for a reason unexplained. But she couldn't stop Sigrid from seeing the other Beastkin.

She stood outside the first wife’s personal chambers and took a deep breath, adjusting the mask on her face once more. It was a nervous tick. She logically knew that no one could see her face and that the mask had never fallen off before. Still, she worried that she would turn too fast. The entire piece might fall off, and then she would have to kill the first wife.

Old traditions were brutal. Best to avoid them at all costs.

Camilla wanted to come. She said that the concubines should see that there was at least one person willing to support Sigrid. Her sister bristled at the mere idea that people disliked her because one person decided they shouldn't.

Sigrid said her sister’s dedication was unwarranted in this case. She had little desire to make the first wife feel as though she were being attacked. The purpose of this meeting was to understand where the woman was coming from. Nothing more, nothing less.

She lifted her hand and knocked on the door. The solid wood thudded under her fist, echoing through the chamber beyond.

A muffled voice, too far away to understand the words, responded. Footsteps strode toward the door, and then it opened to reveal a sun-darkened face surrounded by dark hair that fell like a waterfall to the concubine’s waist. She wore a bright and sunny smile that promptly fell away when she realized who was at their door.

“The sultana is not taking visitors,” the woman whispered, then began to shut the door.

“I wish to talk,” Sigrid insisted.

She might have put her foot in the door jamb if she hadn’t heard Saafiya’s voice call out, “Who is it?”

“The second wife, Sultana.” The concubine kept the door cracked only a small bit so that Sigrid couldn’t see into the room.

The silence afterward was the still silence of a tomb. Sigrid waited with her hands clasped at her waist. They would see no reaction in her body. She simply wouldn’t allow it. And none of them knew her well enough to recognize the slightest movement of her mask as she chewed her lip.

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