She walked behind the men as they dressed themselves. With today`s training complete, they had once more gained the right to wear their uniforms. As they each finished dressing, they knelt down on one knee and waited, heads bowed.
This was always a tense moment in the day for the initiates. A simple touch on the shoulder from their Lady meant they had done well, and had earned the right to eat and rest for the night. If the Lady left without giving them Her approval, it meant an evening spent on menial duties, and leftovers from the other men for dinner.
For the Lady, however, it was a kind of reward. It excited Her to see how some of the men reacted as She walked between them. She knew they were tired, sore, and hungry. Each one anxious to know they had pleased Her enough to eat and rest. She sometimes prolonged their agony, taking Her time to pace back and forth behind them. She couldn't allow them to take Her approval for granted, it had to be a hard earned privilege.
She also took this time to see if any of them, weakened by the day`s trials, would give in to the temptation of looking at directly at Her. It was forbidden for the initiates to look upon Her, until they were elevated into the Gilbhean. Only then could they see Her Love as well as feel it.
It often disappointed Her if none attempted it. In these rare, fleeting glances, She saw many things. The impure lust of the unworthy, the seething hatred the trials would raise up in a lost cause, a hopeless grasp for something to renew a dead soul. It made Her job easier. With one, simple, fleeting glance, she could dismiss a failure and spare Herself the energy of the trials.