Stolen prompt, but:

I sat down, trembling. He had touched me. Nothing would be the same again.

I would not set foot outside the sacred palace grounds again; a hundred slaves would carry my palanquin. Nothing of my body–sweat, spit, urine, dung–would come in contact with the unhallowed earth; sacred vessels only could contain them, til they were buried in the palace grounds. I would not eat of the food of men; only balm and amaranth, and holy flower wine.

I had borne the touch of the king. The mark of his favor was upon me.

And I would live forever.


Author: leighbrackettsland

Student. Reader. Watcher. Dabbler.

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