by AR Colbert
Her cheeks flushed and her heartbeat increased. I smiled to try and ease her concern. “I’m not going to tell anyone about you and Asher. And I assure you, Raf won’t either.”
“Well you never know. I learned a long time ago that the Leaders play by different rules. Director Walsh can have as many...” She froze mid-sentence, terror darkening her petite face. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “Forgive me for saying anything—I don’t know what I was thinking! The point is, I know not to make assumptions and not to judge others.” She bowed and made a quick exit, pulling the door closed behind her and leaving me alone with my mouth agape.
Well that wasn’t what I expected. Surely Raf hadn’t said anything to threaten her or make her fear that he would reveal her secret relationship with Asher. But she clearly wasn’t related to the Embers with that little mini-rant she let loose. What in the world was she talking about?
Another knock sounded at the door before I’d taken a step away from it. “Yes?”
“Don’t forget to come down to breakfast as soon as you can. Director Walsh is waiting.” The words spilled out of Joy’s mouth and her footsteps led her away from the door just as quickly.
It turned out Everett’s impatience over getting me down to the dining room was due to a list of instructions he had printed out for the party. It was set to take place that Friday, and he asked me to lead the staff in ensuring everything was prepared and decorated properly. He wanted to hold off on introducing me to the other Leaders until the day of the party, so I was essentially on house arrest until the big night arrived.
He was so distracted by making sure all the details were exactly as he wanted them, that he neglected to say or do anything on the actual day I turned nineteen, which happened to be Thursday before the party. It’s not that I expected him to, or even that I wanted him to. But it was the loneliest birthday I’d ever had, despite being in a grand mansion surrounded by people. I didn’t know any of them. Not really. And it was the first birthday that I didn’t have my brother Cato by my side.
Joy had been fairly distant since the run-in with Raf, so I was surprised by her unannounced visit to my room Thursday night. Secretly I hoped she’d come to apologize. It was nice having her as an ally in this house. But that wasn’t the reason for her visit.
“This came for you,” she said flatly, extending her arms to pass me a large brown package.
“Thank you.” I turned the package over, looking for a return address. “Do you know who it’s from?”
She shook her head. “It was delivered by a messenger from the Parcel Service.”
I examined my name, scrawled out in neat penmanship across the front of the brown paper that hid the contents inside. The writing was unfamiliar.
I looked back to Joy, who stood motionless in my doorway, watching as I set the package on top of my dresser. Meeting her soft brown eyes, I knew there was more she wanted to say. I waited, giving her a moment to compose her thoughts before she finally spoke.
“You didn’t report my actions with Asher.” Her brows pulled up in the middle, vulnerable and afraid.
“No,” I agreed. “I told you I wouldn’t.”
She dropped her eyes to the floor. “Thank you,” she said softly. Her heart ached, and I understood her dilemma better than she knew.
“Of course,” I said. “Love is a tricky thing. It’s hard enough to figure out on its own. It’s even harder when society tries to put you in a box and control who you’re allowed to fall in love with. Maybe one day they’ll learn—the heart can’t be controlled.”
She looked up to me again, her eyes misty now with unshed tears. She nodded, fervently, causing one to break free and leave a shiny trail down the side of her freckled cheek. “Maybe I misjudged you...” She chuckled, “...again. I’m sorry.” Reaching into the pocket of the apron tied around her small waist, she pulled out another package, much smaller this time.
“Happy birthday,” she whispered, extending the gift to me. “It’s not much, but it’s all we could sneak out of the kitchen. Go ahead—open it!” Her eyes were alive now, eager to see my reaction.
I untied the simple bow made of twine and unwrapped the butcher paper to reveal two small chocolates. One had a spattering of salt crystals across the top, and the other was drizzled with caramel. They looked and smelled decadently delicious.
“Joy!” I exclaimed. “These are incredible!”
She flushed. “They’re nothing compared to what you’ll have at the party tomorrow night, but like I said, it’s the best we could pull together. I hope you like them.”
“I’m certain I will.” I smiled and pulled Joy inside by her wrist, closing the door behind us. “But you know gifts like this are best enjoyed with friends.”
Her brows raised and she glanced from the chocolates in my hand back up to my face. “Ms. Greenwood, I couldn’t.”
“It’s Claren. And please? For my birthday?”
She eyed the treats hesitantly before the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Are you sure?”
“I insist.”
“Thank you... Claren.”
We sat cross-legged on the floor, enjoying the divine little treats, and my heart was happy. It felt good to have company, and I hoped this was the beginning of a real friendship here in Louisburg. I needed a friend.
We discussed plans for the next day, and I learned that I’d be primped and pampered by a hired stylist all morning before the guests arrived. A few VIPs would be attending a happy hour before the dinner, and I was expected to mingle and schmooze my way through the small crowd before the real party began. Joy informed me that Everett’s shindigs had a way of extending late into the night, so she encouraged me to get my rest.
Eventually, we said our goodbyes and it wasn’t until I moved to get ready for bed that I remembered the first package Joy had given me. I studied the writing again, running my fingers across the neat black ink before slipping them under the fold of the paper and ripping it gently away from the gift inside.
My stomach somersaulted as the vivid blues and oranges were exposed in the dim light of my lamp. Quickly pulling the rest of the paper away, I couldn’t suppress my grin as I looked at the stunning piece of art in my hands. It was one of Elizabeth’s paintings. A glowing bed of embers under a brilliant fiery illuminated sky.
Turning the piece over, I noticed a small note tucked under the edge of the wooden frame. The same neat penmanship spelled out a simple, vague message.
See you soon.
That was it. No signature. No explanation. Who could have sent it? It wasn’t Raf. I knew his handwriting well from the notes we’d sent during my training. But it had to be one of the Embers. Were they coming here? Was I about to receive my first real mission from them?
I smiled again, pulling the art close to my chest in an embrace. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed to feel a purpose again. But this art from the Embers filled a void inside. Something interesting was about to happen, and I couldn’t wait to be a part of whatever was coming.
CHAPTER 11
The sky had barely turned a soft shade of gold when Joy awoke me the next morning. She smiled apologetically for the early intrusion and handed me a steaming cup of tea and a scone. “Your stylist will be arriving any moment. I thought you might want to sneak a bite of breakfast before she gets here.”
“Here in my room?”
Joy winked. “I figured you’d be spending plenty of time with Director Walsh later today. Enjoy a few minutes to yourself.”
She stood to leave, and I had just finished my breakfast when another knock came from the door.
“Ms. Greenwood? Your stylist is here.” Joy’s voice was timid, and I understood why as the door swung open to reveal my next guest.
“Olivia Parke,” said a tall woman as she strode confidently toward me. I stood to shake her hand, brushing the crumbs from my cotton nightgown as I did.
Olivia was at least half a foot taller than me and all angles. Her cheekbone
s were sharp, her brows an unnatural shade of brown, and her full lips fiery red. Tight, black leather pants hugged her lithe frame, and a long black jacket fell all the way to the floor behind her patent black heels. It was a startling contrast to the platinum blond hair she had slicked back into a smooth, silky ponytail that was perched near the crown of her head. It was such a pale shade of blond that it practically glowed white in the morning light shining in from the windows.
Nothing about Olivia felt authentic. I feared I might look the same in a few hours.
She gave me a thorough inspection, looking my body up and down with a calculating stare. Aware of her scrutiny, I straightened myself to stand tall and pushed a lock of my honey-colored hair back behind an ear, mustering up all the confidence I could find.
Finally, the woman nodded, tapping her index finger against her temple thoughtfully as she turned to dig through a large bag she’d carried in with her. “I have an idea,” she stated loudly. Joy visibly relaxed in the doorway. With a large pink bottle in her hands, Olivia stood tall again, flashing a set of square white teeth that looked as unnatural as the scarlet-colored frame around them. “Let’s get you in the bath, darling. I’m going to make you look like a queen.”
Olivia took her job seriously, and she wasn’t prone to chitchat. Joy was in and out of the room throughout the morning, popping in every now and then under the premise of seeing if we needed anything, though I suspected it was more to fulfill her own curiosity. I was curious, too. Olivia was adamant that I not look in a mirror until my transformation was complete.
I sat on the edge of my bathroom counter while Olivia painted something on the lids of my closed eyes when Joy came knocking again. I could sense something different about this check-in, though. She wasn’t her typical cheery self.
“Come on in,” I called out. “Is something the matter?”
Olivia stepped back to allow me a peek at the young woman as she hung a long black garment bag on the back of my bathroom door.
“Nothing’s the matter,” Joy quipped through a fake smile. “I was just coming to deliver your birthday gift from Director Walsh.” Her shoulders tensed as she turned to unzip the bag.
Inside hung a red satin dress and a stunning golden necklace with a pear-shaped ruby pendant hanging from its delicate chain.
“It’s fabulous!” Olivia beamed. “Let’s hurry and get it on you!”
“It is lovely, but I already have a dress for this evening.” I glanced at Joy for backup, but her lips were sealed.
Olivia placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head rapidly from side to side. “Nonsense. It would be an affront to the Director if you rejected this beautiful gift. You will wear it tonight. For him.”
Joy looked to her feet, her silence deafening. Olivia had left me no room to object. Once again, my opinion didn’t matter, even when it came to my own birthday party and clothes I chose to wear on my own body.
A big part of me wanted to wear the blue dress anyway. I wanted to show Everett exactly how I felt about him trying to control every detail of my life. But the painting I’d received from the Embers held my mouth shut. If they were going to need me here, I would have to play nice. Arguing over a dress was silly when I knew I’d need to speak up for a much greater reason soon. I couldn’t use up all my good credit with Everett yet. So I would bite my tongue instead, no matter how bitter the taste was.
Olivia finished with my cosmetics and gave me some privacy to step into the gown. It was cut in a way that prevented me from wearing my typical undergarments, and as I pulled the satiny fabric up, I realized it didn’t leave much to the imagination. The fabric was thin, clinging tightly to my hips and waist. The neckline plunged deep down the center of my chest, exposing skin that had never been seen by another human before. A small amount of structure built into the dress pushed me up and cinched me in, enhancing my natural curves and creating more where I didn’t have any before. The back was high but made of itchy red lace, tickling the skin from my shoulders all the way down to the dimples in the small of my back.
My arms were bare, as was my left leg, clear up to my thigh. Then again, the dress was so tight, I probably wouldn’t have been able to walk if it weren’t for the slit in the fabric that exposed my freshly shaven skin.
It was a high-quality gown, no-doubt very expensive, but it just wasn’t me. Wearing the dress gave me a sinking feeling that this evening was less about me networking with other Leaders and more about Everett putting me on display for them. The thought revolted me.
“What a masterpiece!” Olivia clapped her hands together as I swung the door open to get approval from her and Joy. Olivia murmured over the design and the fabric, spinning me around to take it all in, while Joy stood silently against the wall. If I doubted my sinking feeling before, it was all confirmed when I saw the pity in Joy’s eyes. This night wasn’t actually about me at all.
I stumbled forward in the three-inch high heels Olivia brought along, with her long arms reaching out to my sides, guiding and teaching me how to carry myself. After several minutes of prancing back and forth across my bedroom, she decided I was ready.
“Come along, dear. The first guests will be arriving any minute now.”
I walked ahead to the landing at the top of the stairs and nearly fell right over the banister when I saw Everett standing at the bottom. Dressed in a tuxedo with his hair combed over in a slightly younger-looking style, his resemblance to Felix was remarkable. The beat of my heart sounded off in my ears as I caught my breath before stepping down. It was surreal to think that just a couple of weeks earlier I’d been walking down the steps to meet his son before Felix’s big announcement in Classen City. And it was surprising how much my heart stung at the memory. I didn’t realize how much I missed him.
But this wasn’t Felix. It was Everett. His smile and lingering gaze weren’t charming like his son’s. He was a little creepy. But if I could just make it through this party I knew I’d have a lot more autonomy in my work. I just needed to meet the other Leaders and then wait for my mission from the Embers. I could do this.
“You got my gift,” Everett said as I made my way down the grand staircase. His eyes were appraising my every step, and I felt like a bird trapped in a cage under his watchful stare.
“I did. It’s lovely. Thank you.” My tone was formal and my eyes were already searching the foyer below, looking to see if any of the other guests had arrived. Everett took my hand in his as I reached the bottom step, bringing me back to him as he allowed a kiss to linger on the back of my knuckles.
“It’s more than lovely. You are absolutely breathtaking.” His whisper sent a shiver down my spine, and not the good kind.
I quickly pulled my hand away and began walking toward the dining room, but I couldn’t move very quickly in the dress and shoes Everett had arranged for me to wear. He caught up to me in an instant and gently guided me forward with his hand on the small of my back. I looked up to find Joy’s fearful eyes watching over me from the top of the stairs. Was it too late to run back up there and join her? I hated this more with every passing instant.
We passed the dining room into a large open library, where two women stood near a bar cart drinking bubbly liquid from tall crystal glasses. Their dresses were purple and black, with v-shaped necklines almost as deep as mine. They looked up and greeted Everett with overeager smiles as we entered the room. He made introductions, but I couldn’t concentrate over my increasing sense of discomfort around them. They all seemed a little too friendly. A little too perfectly done up for the occasion.
“Would you like a drink?” the woman in the black dress asked with a smile. Her lips were painted pink, similar to the shade Emmaline usually wore. She lifted her glass and tilted her head toward me.
“Thank you, but I think I’ll stick to water.” I grimaced, remembering the bitter sip of wine I’d had at the Harvest Dinner. Alcoholic beverages really weren’t my thing.
Everett poured himself an amber-colored drin
k from a green glass bottle and clinked his glass against those in the women’s hands. “To Claren,” he said.
“To Claren” the women chirped back in unison. Everett watched me as he gulped his beverage down in one large swallow and immediately poured a second glass.
Our attention was drawn to the doorway as an older woman made her entrance just moments later. She was striking with alabaster skin and pale eyes that brought a chill into the room with every graceful step she took toward us. She didn’t smile, and the intensity of her stare froze me to the spot. Everett tensed beside me as well, and his lady friends slowly retreated back into the shadows along the wall.
“Ah, Claren. Here’s another special guest for this evening.” Everett plastered on his molded smile as the ice queen in her silver gown reached us. “Please allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Madam Cynthia George.”
“Claren Greenwood,” I said, extending my arm. It was a struggle to keep my voice steady as I noticed the thin blue band tattooed around her neck. Our hands met, and I shuddered against the coldness radiating from her palm. Her icy fingers wrapped firmly around my hand as she met my eyes, unflinching. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Indeed,” Cynthia said. “I’ve been very eager to put a face with the name I’ve heard so much about.”
My throat constricted, making my response squeak out through the nerves I was failing to conceal. “Good things I hope?” I forced a laugh.
“Some think so.” She tried to smile, but there was no emotion behind it, and she didn’t do much to keep our conversation moving forward. I knew I should respond with something charming, but there seemed to be a disconnect between my brain and my mouth. I was too distracted by her mark to think.
I worked to prevent myself from staring at it. It was more delicate than Conrad’s, the other Supreme Leader I’d run into. Hers flowed and curled like wisps of smoke dancing around the curves of her throat. It was beautiful in a way, where Conrad’s had been more solid and streamlined, almost authoritarian. But the deep shade of blue was unmistakably a match. It was bold and foreboding, like a menacing thunderhead at twilight. She was definitely a part of the same crowd.
