"I am sorry if I'm bothering you. I guess having my memory wiped has brought out the curiosity in me."
"I wish we could blame it on that, but you have been a curious thing your entire life. You used to give your poor mother such fits!"
"I wish I could remember that. Or her."
"When we have more time, I will be happy to sit down and tell you what I know of the poor lass, but for now, there is a bath getting cold in there."
Leaving Maggie to her work, I start the routine of bathing and dressing. Sitting quietly as Sadie works, I listen to her as she chirps away, talking constantly, but never revealing anything interesting. Today, she dresses me in an almost identical green gown as yesterday, but my accents are all silver instead of gold. A wide silver belt is fastened below my breasts and I wear an ornate necklace with silver birds and branches around my neck. My shoulder is bare of course, and after being around so many marked ladies, I am starting to feel a little naked and exposed without one of my own. I may not be excited to have a number inked into my skin, but I can't wait to feel like I belong.
After dressing, I walk into the sitting room expecting to see Travis, but find Amber instead. This can't be good. She smiles at me for the first time, and I am shocked at just how staggering her beauty is.
"Katherine!" she cries dramatically. "I am glad to catch a minute alone with you. I have a favor to ask of you."
"Of course," I say cautiously as I sit across from her. "What can I do for you?"
"You are such a sweetheart," she drawls, her voice sweet and sticky. I am instantly put on edge by her tone. She is trying her best to appear friendly, but I can see that this favor is not designed to bridge the gap between us.
"I have a cousin," she says. "She is in her last year at the school and I haven't been able to see her in so long. I was hoping she would land a good marriage here at the Big House, but that fell through and sadly she wasn't matched." she says pouting. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind taking her on as a lady's maid. The General wouldn't allow me to have a second but I am sure he will grant you a third."
"I would be happy to, although I am not sure she would have much to do."
"Your head maid is getting on in years, so she should be starting to train a replacement soon. Until she is ready to do so, your other maid can act as a companion, giving you a little more freedom to roam about the Big House. I think it would work out nice actually."
"If this is what you want, I will do what I can to make it happen."
"Fabulous! Her name is Alana, and I know you two will get along wonderfully. I am so happy! You have no idea how much this means to me."
Travis makes his entrance then, looking just as surprised as I was to see Amber. He eyes her suspiciously as he takes my hand, bringing me to his side.
"You girls are looking chummy," he says wrapping a protective arm around my waist.
"Would you expect anything less? What kind of mother would I be if I didn't even try to get to know my children?"
Pushing her rounded frame off the couch, Amber waddles out the door. Travis and I follow her out, making our way downstairs for breakfast.
Our morning meal is served in a converted sunroom, with glass walls and breathtaking views of the gardens. Much cozier than the dining area, the room is only large enough for three small tables. The General and his mother are seated at one, chatting quietly. Amber glares in their direction before grabbing a chair at a second table with Grayson and Laura. After a moment's hesitation, Travis claims the vacant third table for the two of us. The General looks pleased with this arrangement, and I am relieved to be far from Amber.
Grayson seems to be a little less sullen today, but hasn't fully lost his brooding air. Laura has successfully pulled him into conversation, and he is drawing something on a napkin trying to explain it to her. He cracks a joke and they both laugh, transforming him back into the light-hearted youth he should be. Amber makes a quip and they fall quiet, the mood instantly changed and soured. I swear that girl is trouble.
A side door opens and young women in tan uniforms serve us light, fluffy pancakes with fresh fruit. Juice is served in chilled glasses, although the General's mother and Grayson choose to sip champagne instead. The old lady is in high spirits this morning, cackling at her own jokes and even being civil to Amber. After draining her second glass, she excuses herself, shuffling comically slow out of the room. At her departure, the General moves to our table.
"Did you have a chance to visit the work camps this week?" he asks Travis.
"I was planning on going out there today, why do you ask?"
"I think you should take your brother out with you this time. It would do him some good to learn the ropes of diplomacy. He needs to start taking an interest in the city."
"Grayson loves this city. He just has a lot on his mind right now."
"An even better reason for him to visit the work camps, don't you think?"
"As you wish, father."
"That's my boy," the General says loudly, smacking Travis on the back. "Katherine my dear, I would like to spend some more time with you later this afternoon. I am very interested in these dreams you are having."
"Of course."
"Good." He smiles. "I will send Weston for you when I am ready."
I spend at least an hour that afternoon discussing dreams and memories with the General. Determined to find Jack, he hopes my unconscious adventures will offer some clue where to find him. The scanner is present during the entire talk and I have grown to loath the feel of it pressed against my skin. It irks me that I must have the faint buzz of a metal bracelet to validate me, and I can't help but be morbidly curious of what it does when it detects a lie.
I notice the General doesn't ask the same questions as previous scans, but refers back to his older notes when curious. His trust in the scanner helps me in this way, as he never asks me for Jack's name again. Even though he helped kidnap me, I still pray they don't find him. With each dream, my heart grows more and more attached to the mysterious young man, and separating my true feelings from the way I feel when I dream is getting harder.
Later in the afternoon, Travis and I sit in the garden, hiding in the shade from the summer heat. He is re-enacting a scene from a play, and I am happy to act as the audience. It feels so good to just be silly, and I laugh as he pretends to trip, doing a full roll on the ground before jumping back up, imaginary sword in hand. As he bows to the sound of my enthusiastic applause, I catch sight of Grayson standing in the shadows behind him. Noticing the shift in my attention, Travis quickly kneels in front of me, taking my hand.
He dramatically recites a poem, trying his best to distract me from my shadowed guest. The true artist that he is, he quickly becomes engrossed in his own drama, closing his eyes as he recites the beautiful words. My gaze flashes to Grayson, and he returns my stare for a moment before drifting further into the shadows and disappearing. My face burns from the intensity of that look. I just can't escape from those eyes. They are always watching, following my every movement. You would think it would bother me, but it doesn't. Knowing he is never far from me, even when I can't see him, is exciting. Given the fact that we have barely spoken, there is no point in denying that my interest in Grayson is simply attraction. The longer I am at the Big House, the further he becomes from the man who held me in the old farmhouse.
Returning my attention to Travis, a wave of guilt washes over me as our eyes meet. He is obviously bothered that Grayson has been watching us, and moves closer to me, drawing me in as though I am something delicate to be protected. It isn't jealousy that motivates him, he just seems . . . cautious. He smiles more and laughs louder, but I can see the fear in his eyes. He does his best to draw me away from his dark brother, and in truth, the further he pulls me, the lighter I feel. If I let him, Grayson would drag me under with his intensity, and I'd burn for it.
Travis is my future, of that I am certain. Once we are married my life here will be secure, so the choice, as if I h
ad one, is clear. It has to be Travis. Noticing Grayson has disappeared into the shadows, Travis draws me closer to his side, leaning over and brushing my cheek with a chaste kiss. I turn to him and smile, his face lighting up, happy to have my full attention. He is so terribly sweet. Life would be so much easier if I wanted sweet, but instead, I long to burn.
GRAYSON
Travis storms into my room, upset over my antics in the garden. Silent and fuming, he paces the length of the room, indecision playing across his face. Knowing my brother, it will be several more minutes before he is composed enough to speak. What I wouldn't give for that much self-discipline.
I have always been fascinated with Travis when he is angry. When I am upset, it is furious and destructive, but his is rarely more than irritation, and so fused with concern he can't fully express his feelings.
Travis finally settles, taking a seat near the window.
"You watch her too closely," he says, shaking his head. "I can't tell if she is scared or enthralled, but either way it sets us up for failure."
Travis' voice is rough and tired. How many times have we had this conversation? How many times will we have it in the future? He is just as weary of my heartache as I am.
"Why can't you just let this go?" he asks. "Why can't you just forget her? If it were up to me things would be different, but it isn't. This arrangement is about loyalty, it is not designed to hurt you. Can't you just be satisfied to be loyal to your city and your father? Can't you find happiness with someone else?"
"Do you love her?" I ask.
"I am positive I could," he replies offhandedly. "She is a lovely girl and marrying her is what is best for our family. Look, you know me. I have never been one for marriage, but if it is what father wants . . . "
"You could love her?" I scoff. "You have no idea what love is. I died for her every day she was gone, I was reborn when I found her, and I was ripped apart by my own father's hand when she was promised to you. I have perished a little more every night since this decision was made."
Travis walks over and embraces me. I stiffen at first, but relax into the comfort he offers. He has always had a talent for making people feel better. For making me feel better. He is a good man, one of the few genuinely good men in this world. I hate what is happening with every ounce of my soul, but if it had to be someone else, I suppose I am thankful it's him.
"I need her, Travis. I think of her every moment I can't see her, and when I can, I am in a constant battle of will with my own body. My feet long to walk to her, my arms to wrap around her, my hands to brush her hair from her face. I love her, and she loved me. How can you marry her knowing she loved me first?"
"But was it really love?" he asks. "People can be fond of each other and attracted to each other without loving them. Father is the perfect example. He doesn't love Amber, but obviously he is fond enough of her to give us a younger sibling."
"Father and Amber are a terrible example of any form of relationship. Kat and I have been drawn to each other since we were children."
"Drawn to each other, yes," he says slowly, "But love? Did you ever tell her you loved her? Did she tell you?"
"We didn't have to say it," I grumble. "It was there, and it still is."
My brother stands before me, his concerned face open and vulnerable. His anger toward me is long gone and only the gentle affection he is known for remains.
"If you are right, she will hate us all if she realizes what we have taken from her," he says shaking his head. "But I have to do as my General commands, and so do you."
"We are fools," I say. "Everyone of us."
13 – Scanned
I am dreaming of the beginning. At first, I am adrift in a vast nothing, just a slight awareness in the dark. A moment later, I'm blinking back the fog to find myself sitting in a grassy clearing, surrounded by a thick forest.
The sun is rising behind the trees, and I watch the rays of light as they slip over and under the leaves, casting shadows in the early hour. With no motivation to move, I pass the time watching ants as they march in front of me; on and on in an endless line, off to some unseen location. They ignore me as I watch, having no fear of the giant sitting next to them. I'm just another mountain, just another piece of the world too big to concern them.
I don't hear him when he enters the clearing. Just like my existence, he is absent one moment and here the next. He reaches for me and I take his hand without hesitation, letting him pull me to my feet. He wraps his strong arms around me, and I hug him back; his body warm and comforting next to mine.
"Do I know you?" I ask.
"I'm Jack," he says sweetly, "and you are Katherine."
"Why am I here, Jack?"
"To be with me."
"Why are you here?"
"To be with you."
"Oh, okay," I say, satisfied with his answer.
"How are you?" he asks, concerned.
"I'm sleepy and a little light headed."
"That's normal. Your old life ended and you were made new. It can be a little disorienting at first."
"Am I dead?"
"No," he laughs. "You will find that for the very first time, you are alive."
This dream, our first meeting, occurs more often than the others. Maybe my brain wants me to see something, to figure out some small detail I have missed so far. The only thing I know for sure is that something must have been done differently with my first drugging compared to my second. The first time, at least in my dream, I am too accepting. When I woke up the second time, I knew right away something was wrong. In my eyes, this is more evidence to prove that Jack did not drug me after my parents were killed. Whoever did, knew exactly what they were doing.
After my morning routine, I am standing in front of the mirror in my sitting room when Travis walks in. Appearing behind me, he is all smiles as he drapes a delicate gold chain around my neck. I have to admit that we make quite the picture. A perfect study in contrast, my dark hair and eyes play against his sunny blonde and crystal blue.
Keeping eye contact through the glass, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. I blush at the sudden intimate moment; the first that has ever passed between us.
"We look good together," he says.
"I was just thinking the same thing."
"Great minds think alike," he laughs, giving my cheek a soft kiss.
I watch him through the mirror as he adjusts the fine necklace against my skin. My mind flashes back to when a different man stood behind me in the mirror. How his dark eyes burned as he caressed my unmarked shoulder. Snapping back to reality, my eyes fly to Travis. Oblivious, he still stands behind me, working a strand of hair out the necklace's clasp. He doesn't seem to have noticed I drifted away.
"Thank you for the necklace," I say, my voice surprisingly breathy. "It's stunning."
"You are most welcome my dear," he grins, the intimacy between us gone in a flash, replaced by the familiarity of friendship. "I have been told I have impeccable taste, and as my wife you should expect all sorts of pretty things."
"Impeccable taste, huh?" I tease, "I admit the necklace is beautiful, but I also recall seeing you wearing a rather questionable outfit a few days ago."
"Questionable?" he asks, confused.
"Outside my window," I laugh. "It was quite the odd getup."
"You saw that, huh?" he grins.
"It was hard not to notice when you were working right under my balcony."
"Yes, well . . ." he says, slightly embarrassed. "Typically I am not much of a outdoorsman, but my father is wanting to extend the garden to this side of the Big House. He feels it has been neglected. I felt that under your balcony was the perfect place to start, even if I was wearing a tattered old pair of overalls."
"Your father seems to have a way with inspiring people to do things they normally wouldn't," I say.
"I would do anything to please him," Travis says, a serious tone lurking under his levity. "My loyalty is to my General and I pride my
self on that. My father is a good man a heart, and he only does what he feels is best for our city."
The mood slightly more somber than before, he holds out his arm to escort me out of my suite. Unmarried women are not allowed to roam about unattended and I have gotten used to my golden knight walking me through the halls. I don't remember having anything planned for the day, but I am grateful to be rescued from the quiet of my suite.
We are discussing the merits of roses versus mums, when I realize we have walked to a part of the house I have never seen before. I mentally kick myself for not paying better attention. I so rarely get to explore the Big House, and I hate missing anything when I get the chance.
"It's time for your first visit to the head scanner," Travis says. "I know you have been scanned several times already, but these are the only scans that are saved into the historical records."
"Oh," I say, nervously. "I didn't realize that was today."
We have walked into what appears to be the business portion of the Big House; an entire wing dedicated to the men and women who spend their lives pushing papers and balancing budgets. It's beautiful, designed and decorated to impress. Elegantly papered walls and heavy wooden furniture create an air of sophistication. Large windows line the walls, allowing the busy workers glimpses of the outside world.
I feel tiny as we walk through the cavernous main hall toward the rows of offices in back. Glancing inside doors as we pass, I spy a grand auditorium, formal looking dining room, and a rather impressive library. I suppose it is harder to become disgruntled in a lovely environment. I'm reminded of Ruth and her claims that the General is keeping us dumb and happy. Would it take longer to realize you are imprisoned if the cage is beautiful?
The offices are a mass of hectic organization. Women shuffle papers and use typewriters, filling the air with the click clack of hard work and determination. I marvel at the speed their fingers as they move over the intricate metal keys, filling the crisp paper with lines of black ink. I can't remember seeing any working machine before, save for the scanners, and I am in awe of the efficient relics of the old world. Not one of the typists look up as we walk by, but a frazzled looking woman in her mid-thirties hurries over to us.
Veracity (The Seven Cities Book 1) Page 11
