Resist (The Harvest Saga Book 2)

by Casey L. Bond

  She nodded silently, and I swiftly exited, swiping more tears with the back of my hand.

  “It’s time to get ready!” Lil said, bursting into my room with her gown, shoes, and jewelry. “Oh, I forgot to tell you! Mr. Wesley’s little sister is actually our age, and she is eligible for marriage this year. She has a gown and would like for us to get ready together. Her name is Rachel and she actually has some makeup that we could use! I told her that we would help her with her hair. Would you run down to Mr. Wesley’s room and get her while I get my things situated? This has to be perfect!” she squealed.

  “Okay. Be right back,” I turned to leave, and Lil grabbed my elbow.

  “Hey, are you okay? You seem...off,” she said, eyeballing me, raising her eyebrow, and cocking her head to the side.

  How does she know me so well? “Yeah. I’m fine. Just nervous about tonight. I’m not exactly the best dancer in the world, and I could definitely do without the attention,” I retorted, trying not to let the tension in my face and shoulders show. If I pretended to believe it myself, maybe she could be fooled as well.

  “Well, don’t worry. Tonight’s going to be fun. You’ll see. You can’t not have fun when I’m around!” She skipped over to hang her dress on the iron sconce while I retreated to the hallway, releasing my breath, thankful that she hadn’t seen right through my lie.

  I padded down the stone hallway with bare feet, hoping to slip by Miss Annette’s room and Aria’s unnoticed. Mr. Wesley’s room was at the opposite end of the hallway on our floor. Hauntingly beautiful notes sounded through his door, which was ever so slightly cracked open. I could just barely see in, but I didn’t see Rachel. I knocked lightly on the door, but only the haunting notes answered.

  Pressing my palm against the rough grains of the wooden door, I eased it open very slowly. Then, I saw him. Mr. Wesley was seated on a wooden chair in the corner of his room next to his bed. He was wearing only tan pants, his sculpted torso revealed in its entirety. His head was down, eyes closed, still-wet brown hair slightly curling on his forehead.

  The muscles rippled across his chest and arms as he dragged the bow back and forth across the large wooden instrument skillfully, producing the achingly beautiful sound that almost seemed human. It mirrored the despair that had accumulated in my heart from Miss Annette’s revelation this afternoon. I did not recognize the song but was mesmerized by the entire scene—of shirtless Mr. Wesley, his hands grasping and teasing the beautiful wooden instrument and bow as if it were a lover in his arms. Entranced, I stared and listened to the notes that emanated from it—from him.

  Screech! “Solara! You scared me!” he said, jerking the bow to a halt.

  My heart beat thunderously against my chest. “I am so sorry, Mr. Wesley. Lillian said that your sister is here and would like to get ready with us, and I came to see if she wanted to join us in my room to get ready, and I heard you playing that instrument, and I did knock, but you couldn’t hear me over the sound, and I really love that sound, and I’m sorry, but I watched you play for a moment,” I said, finally exhaling. I always blabbered when nervous. “Anyway, sorry,” I mumbled, averting my eyes from his beautiful form.

  He laughed and shrugged a white shirt on, glancing at me to see if I was still gawking. I had turned to let him dress but could still see him in my periphery. My cheeks sizzled, which meant that my face was blushed, and I probably looked like a complete idiot right about now. “It’s okay. Come in. Please. Have a seat. Rachel will be back in a couple of minutes.” He gestured toward the wooden chair at a small table opposite him.

  “Are you sure? Because I don’t want to interrupt you, and I can just go back to my room, and you can tell Rachel to come down when she gets back if you want.” I rambled again, wrenching my hands of the nervousness oozing from them.

  He smiled and gestured to the chair again and said, “Please. I insist.” I complied and sat across from him, nervously looking up at him. His green eyes sparkled at me, and I met his gaze and began to laugh. He laughed too.

  “You must be pretty nervous about the introduction tonight,” he said, raising one brow and smiling, revealing a small dimple on his left cheek, which completely contrasted with his freshly shaved chiseled jaw line.

  “Yes,” I exhaled. “I am. I’m not good at these things. I’m a terrible dancer. I hate attention, and in general, I am not looking forward to being offered up to men as a possible wife. It just seems wrong to me. I guess I shouldn’t tell you that though, huh?” I lightly laughed, hoping I hadn’t just gotten myself in trouble.

  “I understand,” he said, looking at me with, is that pity? “I hate it that my baby sister is going through the same thing. I just hope that the men that apply for her hand in marriage are honorable and that the ruling council chooses her husband wisely,” he said, furrowing his brow. Thank goodness he was disgusted with the entire process as well.

  “She has no chance of being the chosen. She was born in the winter. But you three have a chance. Who knows? You may not be getting married if the Lord chooses you, Solara.” He shifted in his chair, laying the large instrument on his mattress and placing the bow on his pillow.

  “Mr. Wesley, I don’t think I have much to worry about. I think that the Lord will choose someone who is much more interested in actually being the chosen than I would ever be.” He rubbed his palms together and then began to roll the sleeves of his white shirt up. It had grown stuffy in the tower as the day progressed.

  He smiled at my comment. “You never know, Solara”—he paused—“outside of instruction, please call me Wesley or Wes, whichever you prefer. If we aren’t in class, there’s no need to be so formal.”

  “Okay. Then you can call me Lara outside of class of course.” I returned his smile and marveled at the emeralds gazing back at me.

  “Of course,” he said playfully. Then his tone changed to a much more serious one. He swallowed and held my eyes captive with his and then softly and slowly said, “Would you do me one favor this evening at the introduction?”

  “You don’t have to ask me to look out for Rachel. That goes without saying.”

  “No, it’s not that. I would ask that you save a dance for me, Lara,” he said, raising his brows, a half-smile sneaking up on his face. Then his expression changed to a much more serious one as he looked toward the door. I heard footsteps approaching. “Of course, I would like to dance with each of my students tonight, maybe make it a tradition. Could you pass the word on to Lillian for me?” He smiled, nervously awaiting the door. I nodded and jumped as the door swung open, revealing a beautiful young woman with strawberry-blonde hair that just skimmed her shoulders. Her beautiful light brown eyes dance from Wesley to me and back, their color enhanced by her light green dress.

  She bounced over to me, and before I could stand all the way, she grabbed me and embraced me tightly. I tried to move my arms enough to pat her back, but she grabbed both of my arms, holding me away from her, looking me over. Looking at Wesley, she squinted and said, “Let me guess...Solara? Am I right?”

  Wesley nodded and smiled, showing his dimple and deep green eyes that peeked up from underneath long dark eyelashes. She bounced around, grabbed her shoes, dress, and a heavy-looking huge bag, which I assumed held the hair and makeup items she planned to torture us with. She threw the bag at me and dragged me behind her screaming “Eeeep!” down the hall—a force of energy to be reckoned with. Lil will love this girl.

  As Rachel finished my hair, which crowned my head in intricate braids, and the remainder of the long waterfall of tresses wound into cascading curls that skimmed my waist, she tucked some peacock feathers on one side of the crown of braids to further embellish, stating that she saw my dress in Miss Annette’s room and knew they would look perfect with the teal color. My door swung open and banged against the stone behind it, slamming into the worn wood. “Let’s go, bitches!” Aria shouted. “Miss Annette and our escorts are waiting,” she sung, with arms crossed one high-heeled crimson foot tapp
ing impatiently. Her ebony hair cascaded in curls over her chest and back. Her pouty lips matched her dress, in the perfect color for her—harlot red.

  Taking last glances in the small mirror that Miss Annette loaned us, I was amazed at my reflection. I no longer looked like a young lady. I had transformed into a woman. My blue eyes popped, expertly lined with charcoal. Blushing cheeks and plump-grape lips stared back at me, and my hair was nothing short of amazing. The metamorphosis was complete.

  Lil looked gorgeous in her peppy yellow gown. Her blonde hair braided down its length adorned with small white daisies. Their yellow centers accentuated her dress and her sweetness that was always present, except for when Aria was in the vicinity. Shimmery pink surrounded her eyes and swirled across her lips and high cheek bones. She was like nature sprite royalty.

  Rachel’s dress was deep purple, making her strawberry blonde locks pop. The neckline of her gown formed a V in both the front and in the back. Its delicate fabric softly gathered at the waist and flared to the ankle. Her hair lay in loose curls that just grazed her collarbones. Her lips, somewhat thin, were blood red. Her light brown eyes were highlighted in bronze and gold and lined with charcoal like mine. In other words, we looked amazing.

  “You heard her. Let’s go, bitches!” screeched Rachel, trying to mock Aria’s tone. She bounced out the door, perfectly excited for the unknown of the evening. Aria followed, and Lil and I giggled as we locked arms and walked out the door together. Though I hated the idea that we would be put on display tonight for the kingdom’s bachelors, my inner kitten purred—feminine, sexy—for the first time in my life.