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priestess
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The priestess grabbed the arrow and wrapped the rope around her middle, over and over again as she ran for the bridge—Nesta dropped the bow.
“Gwyn’s doing well,” Cassian said, nodding to the archway where the priestess had disappeared.
”The light female voice had Nesta twisting around, stiffening as she found a priestess in the robes of an acolyte standing between the two nearest shelves.
”Nesta had no idea what the priestess was talking about, but followed her gaze upward, to the lip of the pit, where a stone-faced Lord Devlon and another male peered in, scowling.
“Which priestess?
She met the priestess on the steps up to the training pit, and Gwyn offered her a bright smile.
Another male already charged at her, and Gwyn shouted Nesta’s name—grabbing her attention just before the priestess chucked a shield to her.
”Stomach muscles throbbing, legs aching, Nesta stood before Clotho’s desk as the priestess finished writing on whatever manuscript she was annotating, her enchanted pen scratching along.
”“Why would a priestess need muscular thighs?
”The priestess pointed.
She hadn’t seen the priestess after that, but at the end of the day there had been a note on her cart that said, Just a friendly reminder to stay away from the lowest levels!
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