Zyra had not gone far when she heard the frantic slapping of leather boots against the stone floor catching up to her.
"Zyra! A moment!"
As she descended the marble stairs of the grand hall, the voice echoed down the corridor. She recognized it immediately. Pausing on the steps, she turned around slowly, her white robes that no longer represented purity swirling around her ankles. Running down the hall toward her were two men, Uncle Job and her foster father, Samuel. Both of them looked out of breath, their faces flushed with more terror than panic.
Uncle Job reached her first. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a deep, crushing sorrow.
In her past life, Zyra would have been moved to tears by this sight. She would have thrown herself into his arms, sobbing about her cruel fate, demanding an investigation and asking for help. But now? She just stared at his face, analyzing the wrinkles around his eyes.
Was this sorrow genuine, or was it just a very well-rehearsed performance? She didn’t know, and frankly, she didn’t care. Experience had taught her a brutal lesson..... do not trust a single soul in this family or clan.
"Zyra, my dear child," Job said, his voice trembling with emotion. "Please, do not be so downcast. This cannot be the end for you. I was thinking... maybe..... Just maybe you are wrong about having a corrupted soul! Perhaps you should try entering the resonance pool again. I am the clan elder so I can pull some strings and open it for you again." He said resolutely, "Soul maidens are different from ordinary humans, they can bond with more than one half-life beast. I can give you another egg. One that I am certain is of a medium ranked beast. We still have a chance to turn things around."
Zyra almost snorted out loud. She had to actively bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing in his face. Try the resonance pool again? The resonance ceremony only happened once a year. To activate the pool required massive amounts of spirit stones and the cooperation of all the clans. If she waited until next year, her not so hidden enemies anymore wouldn’t just be sitting around drinking tea, they would finish her off, shame her and burn her alive.
Everything he said was for his sake. For the clan. Not for her. As her biological uncle, he was probably more worried about how her failure to awaken her bloodline would affect him and his future. He would do anything to wash away the embarrassment of her low level snake.
With a smooth, icy movement, Zyra pulled her hand out of his grip. "No thank you, Uncle. We cannot fight fate; I tried and failed." she said flatly.
More shock crossed Uncle Job’s eyes. He blinked rapidly, utterly bewildered by her lack of emotion. Why wasn’t she panicking? Why wasn’t she crying? He looked like he was about to have a heart attack on her behalf, yet she stood there looking like she was deciding what to eat for dinner.
Job blinked again, completely out of his depth, and shot a desperate look at Samuel.
Samuel, who had been standing to the side with his arms crossed, finally stepped forward. His shaggy brown hair fell just above his thick eyebrows.
The scent of raw garlic wafted off his body. He ate a lot of garlic. All the time. In the past, it was a smell she associated with home. But now, it just made her want to puke.
He looked at Zyra with a heavy, authoritative expression. "Zyra, listen to me," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "The situation is bad, but it is not hopeless. The only way I can help you now is by traveling to the capital. I will leave immediately and return with someone who could have a way to fix your corrupted soul. Doctors in the capital are more skilled than the ones here. Their research into corrupted souls is more detailed. There must be something we can do."
He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, staring into her eyes. "Do not do anything foolish while I am gone. Do you hear me? Go straight home and stay there until I return from the capital."
Before Zyra could even open her mouth to respond to this fruitless plan, Samuel gave a firm nod to Job, turned on his heel, and strode off down the steps in large, dramatic steps, his robes billowing behind him. He looked like a hero rushing off to save the day.
Zyra watched him go, completely unbothered. She turned around to continue walking down the steps, but Uncle Job was like a persistent mosquito. He lunged forward and caught her hand yet again.
"Zyra, do exactly what Samuel said!" Job urged, his voice a frantic whisper. "You must trust him. Samuel is the most powerful man in our region, and he has incredibly strong, influential connections in the capital. If anyone can find a miracle cure for your corrupted soul, it’s him."
Zyra just stared at the hand clutching hers, her expression blank. Had they not heard the grand elder? There was no known medical or spiritual solution for this condition.
Seeing her silence, Job assumed she was drowning in despair over her finances and regretting committing to pay the dowries. He patted her hand reassuringly. "As for those cruel fiancés... don’t worry about the dowries right now. I will go to the Wintermere, Wayan, Duggar and Belamy families myself. I will beg them, plead with them, and ask for a pardon. There is simply no way a young woman like you can pay back four heavy dowries. Leave it to me." He expelled hot breath from his nostrils. "I cannot believe them! After everything that Zena and Alstrid did for them, this is how they are treating you."
Zyra narrowed her eyes. A pardon? From Mrs. Belamy? That woman would rather eatglass than forgive a single coin.
She knew exactly what Uncle Job was doing.....he wanted her to feel completely helpless and indebted to him. She had long figured him out. If things went as he hoped, and she was cured, she would be his captive Soul maiden, a mascot for him to continue holding his position as clan leader.
"We don’t need a pardon, Uncle," Zyra said smoothly, a sharp glint in her eyes. "We have assets. For instance, the clan can just sell some of the family farmland my parents left for me. Selling a portion of it would be more than enough to at least pay off half the dowry immediately. I have cut ties with those four men, and I am never associating with them again."
He clenched his jaw; anger flashed in his eyes.
It was quick, but she caught it. He was probably counting the losses from the sale of the land. Her uncle was not going to let that wealth leave his pocket. Just as he was not going to stop until he fixed her or labeled her a false maiden and destroyed her.