“Why not?”
The lines near her mouth deepen as she grimaces and stares down at her hands. “I am an outsider.”
“Outsider?” My brow lifts as I consider the meaning behind her word. “Is that why you don’t have a serpent coat of arms?”
Her hands go to the red circle in the center of her surcoat. “Yes.”
What makes you an outsider? What does it mean?
The questions prod at my thoughts. I cannot ask them until I get to know her better.
Lines of tension deepen across her brow as she speaks. “You should know that once you agree to marry a Bloodstone man, you don’t break the agreement. It’s seen as an offense.”
Before I came here, I vowed to do whatever it took to give Mother peace in the afterlife. I never prepared myself for marriage, but I will not cower from it or shiver at the thought of being a Bloodstone warrior’s wife.
“I have a lot to learn about your customs,” I say after a moment.
“I shall help you.”
“I would like that.” It’s not a lie. I could use her help.
Kassandra’s long brown hair sways against her hips as she turns back to the window. “It’s time.”
ChapterEleven
Kassandra leads me to an oddly shaped tent near the fringes of the camp. Instead of being tall and square, it’s shorter and dome-shaped. Instant heat engulfs me the moment she guides me inside. Two square grass mats lie on either side of a square pit in the center of the room. Steam rises from the heated rocks inside the cavity. It clings to my skin like a humid morning after it rains.
Kassandra frees my hand. “This is the purification part of your binding ceremony with Gabriel. The Bloodstone people believe the first step to a peaceful union is releasing all your past sins. You’ll spend a short while here with Gabriel.”
I know the Bloodstone people spend a lot of time inside sweat lodges like this. However, I didn’t know about this part of their binding ceremony.
My stomach clenches at the thought of being trapped here and forced to spend time alone with Gabriel.
From the satchel on her shoulder, Kassandra pulls out a narrow strip of cloth. “You’ll wear this around your waist.”
My brow rises. “That’s all?”
“Yes. It’s all you’re allowed.” Compassion sparks behind her blue eyes. “You can cover your breasts with your hair.”
She leaves me to the silence of my thoughts and the frustration bubbling inside me. I hadn’t considered all the Bloodstone’s traditions when I decided to wed one of them.
I grumble under my breath as I undress and tie the cloth around my waist. It only covers me to my upper thighs. Obviously, this tradition was created by one of their men. It had to be. No woman would think this is a good idea.
As I sit on a grass mat and crisscross my legs, I pull the ribbon from my braid. Sweat beads across my brow as I unweave the dark strands and allow two sections to cover my breasts. It doesn’t cover enough. I’m too well endowed.
My pulse races as I glance at the tent flap and brace for Gabriel’s arrival. He had stared so openly during the council meeting. My stomach tightens at the thought of him doing it again.
Sunlight floods the lodge as the flap lifts, and Gabriel steps into the room. Like me, he only wears a strip of cloth. Luckily, it covers him to mid-thigh. Otherwise, I’d see far more of him than I’d like.
His firm body glistens with sweat as he moves to the opposite side of the lodge and sits on a grass mat. I try not to stare, to compel my gaze to the ground. It’s incapable of lifting off all those tight muscles and the tattoo etched into his right arm. It covers him from wrist to shoulder. The ancient words and symbols must mean so much to him.
He no longer wears his battle marks. It’s strange to see his face without those black smudges. Without them, he seems younger and more approachable.
The lone torch casts wavering light on the walls of the lodge. I watch the shadows and try not to think about how miserable this is. Everything sticks together. Sweat trickles down my back, my neck.
“Kyanite,” Gabriel says, his tone brittle. “Come here.”
My skin bristles at the command. Maybe he’s used to speaking this way to women.
