“But who are you, Carrington?”
The words fluttered in her ears like air and Carrington turned her head around to find nothing. His voice had been as clear as if he’d been standing inside this very room.
“What is it, dear?” her mother asked.
The room was empty except for the three of them and Carrington shook off the haunting feeling. “Nothing. I thought I heard something.”
“You should be paying attention. Tonight is absolutely crucial. Don’t you know that?”
“Of course. I’m sorry; I am paying attention.”
“It doesn’t appear that way. Letting your imagination get dragged away by . . . what? A creak in the corner? We can’t afford any more mistakes from you. Your attitude needs to change quickly!”
“Vena . . . ,” Carrington’s father cautioned.
“She needs to know how important this is,” her mother said, glancing toward her husband.
“There will be no more mistakes. I have already been chosen,” Carrington said.
“You think you’ve done all you need to, then? You think someone with as much power and status as Authority Knight will simply let you act like a child and say, ‘Well, what am I to do now? I have already chosen her’?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed and Carrington could feel the woman’s desperation as she inched toward her.
“Vena, you have taught our daughter well; don’t worry,” her father said.
“Don’t kid yourself. If Authority Knight disapproves of her in any way, he will kick her to the curb and choose another.” She turned her gaze back to Carrington. “Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” Carrington said.
“Then know that you may have impressed him once, but until your vows are complete you will need to continue to impress him. There can be no mistakes.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Enough,” her father said. He gave Vena a stern but loving look and she eased back into her seat. The vision of her mother in the city center, in the Exiting Room, in their home on nights when Carrington wasn’t living up to the picture of perfection—all of those images rushed back, hitting Carrington with their sharp edges, stabbing, slicing, embedding themselves in her brain, wedging into the fragmented picture she already had of herself.
Without warning her body and soul longed to be back in the shelter, where Aaron’s words had tapped something that made her feel loved. Carrington was taken aback by this mental detour and focused on keeping her face from registering the reaction. It was one moment, a single incident that had left her with more questions than answers, yet in a torrent of slander from her mother, she ached to hear his words again.
“Let’s pray, for your sake and the sake of our family, that there won’t be any more errors,” her mother said.
Carrington cut off the questionable longing and nodded. Her mother was right; she had been chosen, but her work was far from over. It was time to focus on her future with Isaac Knight. It was silly to give attention to anything else, for nothing else guaranteed her a future in the community.
“You’re Authority Knight’s bride-to-be now. Don’t forsake this gift,” her mother said.
Carrington smiled and was rewarded with a smile from her mother. Her mother launched into another round of probing questions and Carrington kept a smile plastered on her lips. She caught her father’s glance and found a soft sadness behind his eyes. Not the disapproval her mother often wore, but a kind sorrow that made her believe he would steal her away from all of this if he could.
But he couldn’t. She was Authority Knight’s intended; that was her identity and her place now. Still, she couldn’t stop the small sense of dread that wormed its way into her psyche: perhaps the whole world had been playing a sneaky trick on her and she was finally catching on.
15
The house was larger than Carrington had imagined. She had only ever seen the Authority homes from afar, and being close enough to touch one felt overwhelming. She took a deep breath and wished she could check once more to make sure she was presentable. Her mother had insisted on sending a proper dress with the guard who escorted her home. Carrington had slipped into it and felt a dull ache start in her gut immediately.
The garment smelled like her house and reminded her of her bedroom, of her sweet brother’s tiny face, of a time that felt easier, when she wasn’t worried Authority Knight would disapprove or change his mind the moment he saw her. Her hand trembled and she clenched a seam of her dress to steady it.
She was led inside, and once through the massive entrance she couldn’t help but wish she were out. The ceiling had to be twenty feet high, adorned with a large chandelier at its center. The walls were a neutral color to offset the large pieces of art filling the space. The floor glistened under the dim light and the clap of Carrington’s footsteps echoed as she was escorted into a large sitting area.
This room competed with the entry in magnificence and was twice its size. Another decorative lighting fixture hung from the ceiling; the walls held exquisite paintings and the floor was covered by a perfectly kept rug that exceeded the dimensions of Carrington’s parents’ home. The furniture looked far too expensive to be used and she hesitated to take a seat even though she was instructed to do so. The guard moved to stand at the entrance of the room and Carrington nervously perched on the edge of a beautiful sofa.
She had thought through as many scenarios for tonight as she could dream up. She knew next to nothing about Authority Knight except what she had learned about him in her practicing lessons, which was very little because he had taken over for his father only a couple of years before. She knew he was the youngest Authority member, that he was overseer of all religious activity, and that his wife had passed before providing him children, which was the reason the Authority had given him permission to marry again. That was the only reason she was here. The thought induced somersaults in her stomach and she hastily buried the thought of bearing children. She was nervous enough without focusing on something so frightening.
Carrington heard him coming before he appeared in the doorway. She stood as he walked to her and smiled softly.
“Carrington, thank you for coming,” Isaac said. He was dressed in a fine, dark, well-tailored suit; his hair was slicked back; his eyes grabbed hers immediately. A vein in her neck began to throb. The sight of him here surrounded by his unfathomable wealth reminded her that he was essentially royalty. She was dealing with an elite class.
“Thank you for inviting me; it’s an honor to be here,” Carrington said. Her voice was shaky and she wished she could control her nerves.
“I hope you like what you see of the house so far.”
“Yes, it’s quite extraordinary.”
“It’s a bit outlandish for my tastes, but it was my father’s home and I inherited it when he passed.”
“Well, I think it’s beautiful.”
That comment won Carrington a warm smile and she started to ease out of her nerves.
“Shall we?” he said, offering her his arm.
Carrington took hold and walked beside him as he slowly led her into another grand room that held a large wooden table for dining. It was set for two with fine china and crystal goblets on top of a soft white cloth that made Carrington think of snowdrifts.
In true gentlemanly fashion, Isaac held out Carrington’s chair for her and she sat, thanking him. He took the seat at the head of the table to her left and nodded toward a small side door. A group of five servants began to deliver food to the table. Meats, cheeses, breads, fruits, an array of vegetables. More food than the two of them could possibly consume, but everything looked tantalizing.
A steward filled her glass and smiled at her kindly. Her heart fell into a normal rhythm and the tension in her muscles released. She sipped from her cup and waited as her plate was filled with the mouthwatering delicacies.
“I hope you find all the food to your liking,” Isaac said.
“Oh, it looks de
licious. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“I figured a feast was in order to celebrate our engagement.”
Carrington beamed and kept her eyes on her food. “In that case, I am very glad you did.”
The two ate in an awkward silence and Carrington tried to imagine what he might be thinking. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head telling her not to be such a stick-in-the-mud and try to engage in conversation.
“The food is wonderful,” Carrington said.
“Yes, I was lucky enough to come across a talented cook earlier this year.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Carrington scolded herself for using the word wonderful twice and waited for Isaac to continue the conversation.
The room fell into silence again and Carrington went back to focusing on her food. She stole a glance at Isaac every few seconds and found that most of the time he seemed completely entranced by his plate. Maybe he was not interested in talking. She didn’t want to continue to bother him if all he longed for was peace while he ate.
“I’m sorry for the silence,” he finally said.
“No need to apologize. As you already know, silence doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” That was a lie.
“And I truly do appreciate that, but it is rude of me to invite you to dinner and not make an effort to entertain you.”
Carrington nodded graciously.
“Truth be told, I am not an expert in these types of situations. I wasn’t very good at this the first time either.” He gave an awkward laugh indicating he was as uncomfortable as she was. Her heart began to dance and her skin tingled. It was nice to know that she wasn’t alone in her anxiety.
“Your wife was very beautiful.” The second the words were out of Carrington’s mouth she regretted them. They were too personal. The woman’s death was too recent to mention the first Mrs. Knight, and she wished she could take the words back. “I’m sorry, Authority Knight. That was too forward of me.”
“Please, Carrington, it’s fine. I am dealing with her death. It is kind of you to say that. Although it is difficult, I believe all things happen for a reason. Do you believe that?”
His eyes settled on her curiously and she felt her cheeks flame. “I think that sometimes it is hard not to wish for a different outcome, but wishing for something will not make it so.”
“I believe that there is a perfect plan set before each of us, and when we follow that plan things work out exactly as they should. For example, many would not believe we were meant to be a part of each other’s paths, yet here we are.”
Carrington watched Isaac’s face and saw that he believed everything he said as strongly as he believed that the sky was intended to be blue. “I am envious of how strongly you believe. It must help you in times of hardship.”
“What are we without belief, without purpose?”
She didn’t know what to say to that. His words reminded her of Aaron’s but felt more accessible, as if she could actually experience what he was proposing.
“You may not be as solid as me in your faith now, but I am certain you will be,” Isaac said. His eyes moved back to his plate and Carrington followed suit. She was surprised by how much ease had set into her bones. She let her mind drift as she ate. The food was perfection, the room was exquisite, and Isaac was different from what she’d expected—not as cold as she had imagined, a bit awkward and shy, but strangely alluring. The idea that all of this would soon be a normal part of her life made it hard to keep the joy from her face. Somehow the outlook for her future had gone from utter despair to comfort and light—more comfort than she ever would have expected.
“Come, I want to show you something,” Isaac said. He stood without giving Carrington an opportunity to object, and she followed. He led her through another large room that appeared to be a library and toward a door that took them into a space smaller than her own bedroom.
The room had no windows; the walls were dark red, the floor covered with soft gray carpet. In the center a single table stood with three large candles nestled in ornate silver holders. A single book lay before them. It was open and tiny words ran across each page.
“I think it’s important that you understand who I am. Discipline, Carrington, is the seed of spiritual success,” Isaac said. “I spend hours each day studying the Veritas so that I never waver in my beliefs.”
Carrington saw now that the book was a Veritas worn from hours of being handled.
“I can’t express how important spiritual discipline is for a home; even more essential is that the leaders of a home be in unison with their beliefs. As we establish our home, I want to make sure we see eye to eye.”
He looked at Carrington as if seeking some sort of response, but she had nothing. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting from her in this regard, but there was something behind his eyes that made the deepest part of her core shiver for just a moment.
“Do you not believe in discipline?” he asked, his voice different than it had been earlier. A chill crept over her as if her answer could change everything. The words of her mother resounded in her ears. There could be no mistakes.
“I still have much to learn, but I think discipline is very important in the home.”
Isaac waited a moment as if weighing her answer and then smiled. The darkness in his eyes fled. “You can’t know how glad I am to hear you say that. As long as we follow the holy plan, no poison can enter our home. I am aware that some of this will be new for you, but don’t worry. You will learn to love such righteousness. I will teach you.” He stepped closer to her and ran the back of his fingers down her jawline. “There is a thirst for truth in your eyes, Carrington. That is why I chose you.”
He stepped out of the room past her and Carrington struggled to let out a breath. She turned and followed him back to the larger room and out to the main dining room, which had been transformed into a much more romantic setting. The lights had been dimmed, the feast removed, and in its place a small tray of desserts glinted in the candlelight.
“I have to admit that I have a bit of a sweet tooth. I hope you are in the mood for something sweet,” Isaac said.
Carrington grinned and took her seat. His touch still lingered on her cheek and she couldn’t ignore the way she enjoyed it. She watched as Isaac popped a sweet roll into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor its flavor.
From the look of joy on his face Carrington thought she must have answered his question about discipline correctly. He wasn’t having her escorted out; he wasn’t demanding to choose another. Her mother’s worried voice faded and Carrington let herself go back to imagining that this could actually be her home.
A small shudder quaked at her depths and threatened to move up into her chest, and Carrington shoved it away. She had always been an overthinker, had always worked herself into a panic over nothing. She deserved to be happy; she deserved to be chosen and then benefit from that choosing.
Carrington placed a treat in her mouth and smiled as the wonderful taste spread over her tongue. There was nothing to worry about; all was as it should be.
He blessed the clear liquid as he drew the proper amount for the cleansing. It was her third day with no sign of redemption, but he understood that some creatures needed more time to find the humility necessary for surrender. He would continue the ritual until the seventh day, the holy day, by which time he hoped that God would have reached out to save her wandering soul from eternal damnation.
The room around him smelled like urine and vomit, but he blocked out the disagreeable odors, knowing that God did not call His followers to comfort. He called them to obey. The girl whimpered in the corner for the first time since he’d entered the damp room. She had finally come out of her self-induced haze to notice he was there, and with the awareness of his presence, fear came crashing down upon her. He could almost smell that as well. He took unabashed pleasure in her terror. After all, he had long ago resolved that there should be rejoicing in the elimination of sin.
He walked toward her slumped figure. He checked to make sure the zip ties around her wrists binding her to the foundation post were still intact. Yesterday when he had visited her he’d tied her hair back from her face, but strands had started to fall loose so he took a moment to secure them back in place. It was hard to administer the cleansing solution through vomit-soaked hair.
She struggled against him but only slightly, nowhere close to the strength she’d possessed during the first days of the process. He hoped that in losing her strength she would also shed her pride and accept that she was a sinner who had the chance to grasp undeserved grace.
He worked the funnel in between her teeth and held her mouth tightly as she began to resist him. Her tears soaked his fingers, but he cleared his mind and lifted his head to the heavens.
“Lord of sacrifice and redemption, I present to You according to Your holy will a worthless child in need of Your salvation. Save her from this cleansing if You see fit.”
He poured the clear liquid into the funnel and the girl choked as the substance ran down her throat and cleansed her insides. He shook the funnel to make sure every last drop touched her tongue, and then he removed the plastic tool, watching as the girl’s head drooped in gasping, tearful agony.
She screamed—no words, just her voice—her anguish echoing across the room.
He paid it no mind and left her to contemplate the path to redemption.
16
By the time Carrington was escorted from Isaac’s home toward the vehicle that had been dispatched to take her back to the Stacks, all feelings of unease had vanished. The rest of the evening had been filled with more awkward but pleasant conversation and enough sweet rolls to make Carrington worry that someone was going to have to carry her up to her room.
The Choosing Page 12
