Apparently everyone knows what happened during my hypnosis, and as much as I want to curl in on myself to hide from the scrutiny of so many strangers, I notch my chin up and ignore them. It isn’t until I hear another snatch of speech nearer the kitchens that I realize their tones aren’t pitying or condescending, but reverent. “How did she survive?...Chosen by the Goddess… blessed.”
If I thought things would be better once I reached the service level of the palace, I was sorely mistaken. If anything I draw more attention, and when I walk into the kitchens I cause quite the commotion. At once I’m being guided into a chair and plate upon plate of food is being set in front of me, eager cooks and maids murmuring their admiration and asking me to name any dish or delicacy, promising to whip up
