The Crown of Bones by Rosalyn Briar EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Rosalyn Briar
- Language: English
- Genre:Dark Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
THE B L E S S E D D A Y
THIS DAY CALLS FOR A SACRIFICE, yet I have nothing to
give. Other villagers leave flowers, coins, and food on an
Altar for the goddess Bergot. She’s the mountain goddess
who protects our valley from the horrors of the outside world and blesses
our fertile lands, or some shit like that.
The mountain wind is strong, swirling flower petals and the stench of
rotten food in the direction of my booth. With the Norstadt Square of
Bergot Valley bustling more than usual, I must crane my neck and rise on
tiptoe to spot my sister.
There. Thora twirls in my old blue skirt, dancing with little girls around
the Maypole. She towers above them, but her playful spirit is the same. The
children wrap pastel ribbons around the tall, white pole to the music of a
lute and pipe. I keep an eye on Thora from the open market but remain
vigilant enough to ward off any egg-thieves.
I don’t recall ever dancing around the Maypole myself. Even before
Wilhelm’s death, I was here selling eggs and dairy at the morning market.
After he was gone, I had to quit school to work at Schulze Manor during the
day. I’m happy enough to watch Thora enjoying the festivities.
Another gust of wind pelts my face with a barrage of the perfumed
petals, and I curse the ridiculous Hexennacht rituals. I busy myself
rearranging baskets and milk bottles when a man clears his throat behind
“Blessed Day, Freckles.”
My heart skips at the sound of his voice. I pretend to be busy, waiting
for my lungs to steady and cheeks to cool, before I turn to the man standing
at my counter. Brahm Wolf. The sun glows on his light brown skin, and
today he wears his twisted locks of hair gathered in a low ponytail.
“Two coins per dozen, one coin—”
“No good morning or Blessed Day?” Brahm clicks his tongue against
his teeth. “What about a trade?” He flashes a bright smile and lifts a large
fish wrapped in paper.
“Where’d you get that?”
“What if I told you I caught it myself?”
I wave him away. “You stole from Schulze Lake? Trying to pawn it off
“Gisela, I didn’t steal it!” He chuckles. “My friend, Hans, took me
fishing this morning. His wife’s family owns Cauldron Lake on the other
side of the valley near Sudstadt.”
Holding his strong chin high, Brahm drops the fish onto my counter
with a thud and pats it. His rolled shirt sleeve is damp with a tiny spatter of
blood, and he smells like fish.
“You’re a fisherman now? Is that why you aren’t performing in the
square?” I bend to fiddle with cheesecloths and recount milk bottles.
“Today’s lutist is awful.”
“Does that mean you like me?” He stands a little taller, drumming his
thumbs on the wooden slab. “You noticed my absence?”
“Noticed? You play the lute in the square every…” I trail off to watch
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