Maiden of Pain by Kameron M. Franklin Read Free Book Online Page A

a sign she was entering womanhood. It had done little to comfort her, and she was in a foul mood. All she wanted to do was go back to her room and curl up in bed. Instead, she sat in class, listening to Sister Yenael describing dwarf anatomy.
    "Who can tell me the five most sensitive spots on a male dwarf?" the sister asked. The following silence was soon broken by the click of boot heels approaching on the hard stone floor. Ythnel slowly lifted her head to find Sister Yenael looming over her. "Answer the question, Initiate."
    "I don't know," Ythnel sighed.
    "Are we not feeling well?" Sister Yenael asked, her voice full of compassion. Ythnel nodded. "I don't care! Answer the question." The sister brought her fist down with a crash on the desk. Ythnel jerked upright in her seat.
    "I said I don't know. Look, those two are raising their hands. Why don't you go ask them?" She glared are the sister.
    Sister Yenael's eyes narrowed, and the two became locked in a battle of wills. From the corner of her vision, Ythnel saw something fly at her. She turned toward it instinctively but was not fast enough. She was struck across the cheek by the sister's hand. The blow knocked her out of her seat, bursts of light filling her vision. She started to cry as Sister Yenael walked back to the front of the class.
----
    Iuna sat on the floor, rubbing her right cheek. Ythnel held her hand poised for a backswing.
    "You.. you hit me," the girl sobbed in disbelief.
    Then she started to scream. "Papa!" Ythnel heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and turned to see Prisus running down the hall toward them. "What is going on in here?"
    Iuna got up and ran past Ythnel into her father's embrace. "She hit me, Papa." Prisus bent down and cupped his daughter's chin gently in his hand, examining the red mark emblazoned on her cheek.
    "I was disciplining your daughter, Master Saelis. She refused—"
    "I thought. I told you I didn't want Loviatar's teachings in my house."
    "But Master Saelis, Iuna needs—"
    "Enough! How dare you tell me what my daughter needs," Prisus roared. His face was flushed, and he was shaking. Iuna peeked out from behind her father, grinning maliciously. Prisus took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I apologize for losing my temper like that. Obviously, I didn't make my expectations clear from the start. I hope they are now." Ythnel nodded.
    "Good. Now why don't you two head into the parlor and start your lessons. Go," he gently pushed Iuna, ignoring her frown. She took two steps then turned and tried again.
    "But, Papa-"
    Prisus shook his head and pointed to the parlor entrance. With a pout on her face, Iuna stomped into the room.
    "See," Prisus said to Ythnel as she, herself, headed into the parlor. "You can get her to listen without beating her."
    Ythnel looked at Prisus but gave no response. Apparently satisfied that she understood his point, he turned and went back downstairs.
    The parlor was a well-appointed room obviously used to entertain guests. A beautiful but modest crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. Colorful, oil-painted landscapes hung at intervals along the walls, their woodworked frames tactful enough not to draw attention from the brush-stroked canvas. Thick velvet drapes were pulled back to reveal a floor-tceiling window set in the far wall, supplying a view of the city. A single-keyboard harpsichord sat in front of the window, basking in the sunlight, its lid propped open to showcase the strings inside.
    For now, the parlor was set up as a classroom. Iuna sat behind a small, portable writing desk, her hands neatly folded in her lap. Ythnel closed the door behind her and strode over to the lectern that stood a few feet away from the desk. She sorted through the lesson plan she had prepared last night before going to bed, reviewing the subjects she hoped to cover. Ythnel felt her stomach clench and realized she was just stalling. There really was nothing to do but get on with it.
    "I thought we might