The Cerulean Sister (The Viridian Priestess Book 2) by Katrina Calandra

Author:Katrina Calandra [Calandra, Katrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Katrina Calandra
Published: 2024-07-26T00:00:00+00:00

Guardsmen Ben escorts me to a corridor where an elder priestess with an oddly placid expression meets me. The wooden cart next to her is full of long delphinium flowers in dark hues, the petals fresh and delicate. The massive cart is boxy and comes up to my chest and looks like it will be hard to push in some parts of the Estate with the uneven cobblestone.

"Blessed morning, Elder Priestess," I say but get no reply.

She smiles and waits until I am standing right next to her to gesture to the cart as if presenting it. She holds a palm to each compartment, glancing back to make eye contact before moving on to each one.

She stands and looks at me expectantly, saying nothing. When she sighs and looks a little worried, like she may have to go through the process again, I nod.

"Thank you, Elder Priestess. I understand."

She sighs again as she positions herself behind the pushing bar of the cart and slowly takes off down the hallway without checking to see if I am following her. I glance at Ben, who makes an ushering motion for me to go first.

It's a strange, silent interaction, but I got the main points of what she was conveying. I wonder if this is what others see when 99 and I interact, him silently using body language to speak to me while we have vastly deeper conversations through our tether. I press my lips together to stop the smile forming and the homesickness that follows.

We stop at a hallway intersection, three directions joining together by a small, open chamber. The statue and adjoining altar are used frequently as people pass it in between duties or on their way home. Even now, this part of the Estate is alive with busy people.

The patron on the single pew in front of the statue stands as they notice us moving toward them, the sound of the rolling wheels alerting them to move without question.

The young man bows to the statue of First Mother and then to both the elder priestess and me before departing. Without acknowledging him, she pushes through until her cart is blocking anyone from getting close to the single pew or statue as they continue to use the passages.

The sound of her clapping her hands together to let me know she is beginning snaps my attention. I had not realized until now, when she is waiting for my eyes to meet hers before she begins anything, that she is not being rude. She has simply taken a vow of silence for the conjunction.

I smile for a reason I do not know, maybe because of how easily the details of this place come back, how elegant they can be.

The elder priestess extracts the only slightly wilted flowers from the vases built into the walls on either side of First Mother's statue and places them in an empty container on the side of her cart. She switches the burnt down candles, scrapes the dripping wax, and replaces the altar cloth.

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