“Behave.” My uncle cuts across her. He moves his hand discreetly and pinches me through the fabric of my dress.
It’s enough to hurt. It’s enough to make me wince.
I don’t get time to do anything else as Gunther turns and the room falls to a hushed, expectant silence.
Pearce pushes me forward. All the other girls are now in a nice little line and I’m thankfully to the side, not noticeable. Not prominent.
Gunther’s stern gaze sweeps across us and even from this distance, I can feel the weight of his eyes as they pause on me. It takes everything I have to fight the urge to squirm.
Instead, I smile, demure and sweet, just as my mother has taught me. Just as I have been brought up to behave.
“Paitlyn, step forward.” His voice booms, echoing off the stone walls.
I hesitate for a moment, surprise flickering across my face. I’m not sure if it’s feigned or genuine, but it seems to please the small crowd watching all of this. They murmur approvingly as I take one heavy step and then another.
My heart pounds against my chest as I come to stop beside Gunther. He takes my hand, his grip firm, and raises it high, and it’s so fast he almost yanks my bone out of the socket.
“Your new Chapter Lady,” he announces, and the hall erupts into cheers.
I stand there, smiling, trying to look as shocked and honoured as everyone expects me to be. And I am, in a way. It’s just... not how I imagined my life would go.
But this is the Brethren way. This is what God has decided for me –I keep repeating that over. Repeating it like a mantra. That it will be okay. Everything will be okay. This is God’s plan.
My mother and Pearce rush to me as soon as the ceremony ends, their faces glowing with pride. My mother pulls me into a tight embrace, her perfume enveloping me.
“I’m so proud of you. This is the best thing to happen to our family.” She whispers, her voice choked with emotion. I stare back at her wondering if she’s on something. Surely, she’s not asdeluded as that? Surely, she must know that despite the power, the prestige, this is wrong. All of this is wrong.
I don’t bother to look at my uncle. I don’t want to see his joy, his pride. I don’t want anything to do with it. I just keep my mouth shut, my smile fixed, as people seem to surround me, as they seem to gush over me like I’m suddenly worth noticing.
Pailtyn
It’s quiet. After all the fanfare of the Choosing Ceremony, we’re back home, back in our nice peaceful seclusion. Only, it doesn’t feel peaceful.
I can hear my mother storming from room to room, calling out for various things that apparently are urgently needed now that I am to be wed.
I roll my eyes, and stare out the window, stare at the pretty ornamental garden below me. All the flowers are starting to dieback now. All the pretty flush of summer is definitely over. For some reason, that fact seems to fill me with more dread.More trepidation. As if even the seasons are revolting over this abject insult to nature.
Where is Antonio? Why hasn’t he reappeared?
It’s not like him to be absent so long.
And it’s not like him to give up so easily, either.
He was so adamant, so vehemently against this match and now there’s nothing but crickets. It just doesn’t make sense.
I scrunch my nose up, rubbing absentmindedly at the skin on my arms. Am I imagining it or is there already a chill in the air? Is winter already knocking at our door? With our house on the Moors, it’s not unheard of for this area to skip autumn entirely, and it’s also not been unheard of for the first snows to come and kill off the last of the summer bloom.
I turn my eyes to the thick clouds on the horizon. Perhaps that’s what’s needed. A nice storm, something to clear the air. Perhaps that’s what’s wrong with me, that it’s just the pressure playing havoc with my headspace. I let out a giggle at that, I mean, what am I, some silly country girl? Some character in a book?
No, I can tell myself all the lies I want, and it still won’t alter the facts, won’t change the truth.
I know this is bad, because this shouldn’t be happening. My mother, the Senate, hell, even our Grand Master should be stepping in and stopping this abomination from proceeding. And the fact that no one is – well, that just proves how truly fucked I am.
“What are you doing?”
I practically jump out of my skin at the sound of my mother’s voice. Normally, I’m so good at hearing her approaching footsteps.
“I was just admiring the garden.” I say. It’s not a total lie.
