Jocelynn knew exactly why the Olive Seed had sent her here to begin her trial.
Her stomach rolled again, and she swallowed hard against the sour taste of wine and bile still coating her tongue.
"You need to understand," a small, steady voice whispered inside her. "You need to know what you did to her. Not the story. Not the words in her letters. You need to know it the way she knows it…"
She could run. The door was right there. She could slip out into the corridor, find a servant's stair, disappear into the night…
But Ashlynn hadn't run.
Ashlynn had sat right here on the edge of this bed, fidgeting with the lace at her sleeves, remembering their mother's advice. Dim the lamps. Slip under the covers before you take off your shift. Once you've bared yourself to him, he'll be too eager to look closely at the rest of you. Ashlynn had sat here, and she had dreamed of a husband who loved her and children of her own.
She had dreamed of a happy life beginning from this night...
