Selah’s POV
A few minutes later, I was sitting with Mira in one corner of my room, working through a set of hand-signs that were apparently meant to help me get through a normal day without having a voice.
The food tray had been pushed aside, and Mira had moved one of the chairs closer to me.
She sat across from me with her hands resting in her lap while I tried to copy every movement she made.
“This one means water,” she said, raising one hand and demonstrating the sign slowly.
“Watch carefully.”
I watched as Mira repeated the movement, then tried to copy it myself, and she looked at my hand before looking back at me.
“Almost got it.”
I frowned at that, and she seemed to read the look on my face.
“Well, almost is not the same as correct. It has to be correct, or you’ll be signing ‘drink’ instead of ‘water’.” She added, and I gave her a flat look in response.
Mira’s lips curved slightly.
“Yes, I know. You’re already tired of me.”
I shook my head, though it was a lie, and I looked away as Mira laughed softly before raising her hand again.
“Try again.”
I did, but this time my fingers bent in the wrong direction, and Mira immediately stopped me.
“No, no. Like this.” She moved her hand slowly, showing me the sign again, and I copied her.
“Better, but still wrong.”
My shoulders dropped at that, and Mira laughed again.
“Don’t look so tired. You’ve only been learning for a few minutes.”
I looked down at my fingers, which didn’t feel like mine—nothing about this body felt like mine.
The hands were slimmer than the ones I had been born with, my fingers were longer, and even the white scars I used to have were gone.
Every time I looked at them, I remembered that I had died.
Mira seemed to notice the change in my expression.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said gently, and when I looked up at her she went on.
“Not everything will come to you at once. Sign language takes time.”
I nodded, and she lifted her hands again.
“Now, let’s try water one more time.”
I copied the movement while Mira watched closely.
But there was a look of dissatisfaction on her face.
“Again.” She ordered.
I frowned and tried a second time, but my fingers slipped into the wrong position, and Mira sighed, though there was no annoyance in it.
“Again, girl.”
I glared at her in frustration, and she stared back, so I pointed at myself and made a face, which sent Mira into laughter.
“Yes, I know you are struggling. You’re very dramatic for someone who cannot speak.”
I immediately reached for the charcoal pencil and notepad beside me, and Mira noticed right away.
“No.” She stopped me.
“You are not going to write insults about me in that notebook. Put the pencil down.”
I slowly placed it on the table.
“Good girl.”
I glared at her for that, and Mira laughed so loudly that I couldn’t help smiling despite myself.
“Now,” she said, calming herself.
“Water.”
She demonstrated the sign for the third time, slowly and patiently.
She waited for me to get it.
I raised my hands and tried again, this time focusing on every small movement, the angle of my fingers, the way my wrist moved, and when I finished, Mira looked at my hands.
“There! That one was correct.”
A strange sense of victory rushed through me, and I smiled to myself.
Mira pointed at me.
“See? You can do it.”
I wanted to tell her that one correct sign wasn’t exactly proof that I was suddenly talented, but instead I settled for rolling my eyes, and Mira laughed again.
We continued for several more hours.
She taught me how to ask for food, how to ask for water, how to say yes, how to say no, and how to ask someone to stop.
That last one took me less time to learn than the rest.
Mira noticed.
“You learned that one quickly. I wonder why.”
I gave her an innocent look in response.
She looked toward the door, and I followed her eyes.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not offended. I am aware that I talk too much.”
I raised an eyebrow at that.
“That was not an invitation for you to agree.”
I quickly looked away, and Mira narrowed her eyes at me while I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile.
Before she could say anything else, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Mira called.
A young servant entered the room, her eyes immediately going to the food tray.
“I’ve come to clear the plates.”
Mira nodded.
“Go ahead.”
The servant walked toward the table and began gathering the empty plates while I watched her, and Mira suddenly nudged my arm, prompting me to look at her.
“Ask her something. Use what you’ve learned.”
WHAT?
So fast?
I looked toward the servant, who was stacking the bowls, and hesitated, so Mira nudged me again.
“Go on.”
I sighed silently and raised my hands.
The servant looked at me, and I started to sign, trying to ask her for water, but I had barely completed the first movement when the servant turned toward Mira instead.
“Does she need something?”
My hands stopped in midair.
I stared at her…
she had looked directly at me, she had seen me trying to communicate, yet she had turned to Mira anyway.
“Answer her.” Mira ordered.
The servant looked confused.
“What?”
“Answer her, she’s signing to you.”
The servant glanced at me again, and I slowly lowered my hands.
“She can’t speak,” the woman said.
“I am aware of that.”
The servant gave a small shrug.
“Then I thought it would be easier to ask you what she wants.”
I felt my fingers tighten in my lap as Mira’s voice grew sharper.
“She was communicating with you.”
“Well, she was trying to. She’s not very good at it, is she?”
“She just started today, yet she has learned so much already.” Mira replied the girl coldly.
“I can’t say the same of you when you learned.”
There was a hint of malice in the young girl’s voice.
I looked down at my useless hands, knowing that she wasn’t angry with me because I couldn’t sign properly.
No, it had to be because of something else.
Was it because I was this so-called Oracle?
My hands tightened further.
This wasn’t the first life I had spent unheard.
As an orphan at the bottom of the pack hierarchy, nobody had needed to listen to me.
When I spoke, people often spoke over me.
Now I had no voice at all, and that made it even easier for people to ride roughshod over me.
Mira slowly stood from her chair, towering over the servant girl.
“Talia, answer her.”
Talia the servant looked uncomfortable.
“Lady Mira, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I did not ask what you meant.”
The room became quiet, and Mira pointed toward me.
“She raised her hands to speak to you and you saw her doing it. Yet instead of waiting for her to finish, you turned to me as though she were not capable of answering you herself.”
The servant looked at me again, and this time there was something different in her expression: a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.
“I only… I only thought—” The servant stuttered, and Mira folded her arms.
“You are not to speak over her simply because she cannot use her voice. You are not to answer questions for her when she has not asked you to. And you will not treat her as though she is too stupid to communicate, all because she is still learning.”
The servant’s face hardened, and I could tell she didn’t like being corrected.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mira’s eyes narrowed.
“What was that?”
“I said yes, ma’am.” She repeated.
“That is not an apology.”
Talia sighed, and I wished the ground would open up and swallow me.
The attention made me uncomfortable…
I didn’t need anyone defending me, I had survived for years without it.
But Mira remained standing there.
The servant finally looked in my direction.
“I’m sorry.”
The words sounded forced, and I didn’t respond, mostly because I didn’t know how to sign anything back yet.
Talia picked up the remaining dishes, and Mira moved aside to let her pass.
She walked out of the room without another word, the door shutting behind her, and I stared at it.
Mira looked down at me, then, to my surprise, she smiled.
“Some people are idiots. Do not let them make you believe there is something wrong with you.”
I kept staring at her while she reached over and patted my shoulder.
“We’ll continue later, okay? I’ll let Vera come in and disturb what’s left of your day.”
I looked down at her hand, her kindness confusing me.
Everyone in this castle treated me so well, and I still didn’t understand it.
But I knew that eventually, I would understand why they believed I was some special person; I would find out why everyone was so convinced that I was an Oracle.
Until then, I would not let my guard down.