"Why?" I wiped my nose with the kerchief Mum passed me. "Why Rowan?"
Mum shrugged, the movement jostling my head where it rested against her shoulder. "Rowan is unique, like you. He can adjust to any situation, selflessly acting for others in every circumstance. I remember his tests. Your brother knew he would score highly in Military, Information Exchange, and Planning, but he intentionally skewed his scores to procure an assignment at Planning House. He wanted to help people in a way that wasn't underhanded or dictated by a corrupt High Commander. He came to me before accepting his apprenticeship, refusing to leave home until he made certain we were safe here. He has always looked out for you, and your sister to a lesser degree." Mum's voice was thick with emotion, her tears dripping into my hair.
"It isn't fair," I grumped. "He'll never have a family, never ride around the orchards again, never design the aqueducts he was so excited about."
Mum squeezed me tighter. "We don't have many details about the lives of the Soul Tenders, but it can't be as bad as you think. They have the use of a rooftop terrace so they can still enjoy the sun, rain, snow, and stars. Servants tend to their needs, and they are provided the best food. The King listens to their advice and they have the ability to make great changes among the citizens. They are in charge of souls, Kee. Can you imagine a greater honor?"
I sniffled. "What's the point? Especially when it leads to this." I waved a hand. Father had passed out on his bed, not bothering to rouse himself enough to see Rowan one last time. He didn't care and wouldn't regret not seeing his first born off. As Rowan grew into a man, he had fearlessly called Father out on the way he treated the females in the family, how he drank away our money, and prevented Mum from advancing to first tier. They had fought often. The bond between father and son had disappeared long ago. I was irritated that I'd had to fetch him from the market when I could have spent those precious moments with Rowan.
"Maybe your father and I were Soul Matched to produce Rowan. He is destined for great things."
"He would have done great things among the rest of us, down here in the land of the living," I persisted stubbornly. My mind conjured a mental image of four blind men sitting around a table in a dark prison cell. Their visions would take them over, they'd scratch the information onto a piece of parchment, and be overtaken by visions again - an endless loop over and over.
How did pairing people together change the course of anything? Rowan would say my short-sightedness affected my ability to understand the bigger picture. A new wave of tears began when I realized he would never jokingly chastise me again. He had spoken of cryptic communication, but I believed it was a ploy to protect and soothe me, like usual. No Soul Tender communicated with anyone but each other, the King they served, and the servants imprisoned with them in the tower.
"Sometimes we can't fathom how destiny or the Fates work, Kee, but there's beauty in that. Fate isn't meant to be understood." The sentiment was strangely philosophical for my science minded mother. I suspected she was merely placating me, just like my brother.
"Mum," I whispered, my voice shaking, "Rowan told me something..." Mum stiffened beside me. Her beautiful face froze in fear. A war waged behind her eyes, the desire to share versus the laws and rules. Realizing she would never ask me to reveal his words but still wanting her opinion on the cryptic message, I forged on. My voice lowered to a whisper, obscured beneath the gentle hum of the heating unit in the walls. "He said to trust the five."
Mum's brows furrowed, the mystery of his words overcoming the threat of knowing them. "Trust in the five?" Our family wasn't religious but everyone recognized the Church's catchphrase.
"No. I'm certain the 'in' was omitted deliberately."
Mum's eyes met mine with sudden clarity. "We may not understand why Rowan said those words, but please promise me one thing. Tell no one, and I mean no one." Her voice firmed with command, a tone my mother rarely employed now that we were older. Her voice caught. "I can't bear the idea of losing two children."
I nodded and snuggled back into the warmth of her embrace. I hadn't let my mother hold me so tenderly since we were children but I needed her comfort. The way she held me made me believe the longing was mutual.
Fear chilled my veins as I remembered the questions of the High Commander and his icy gaze. I had only seen the High Commander in passing before, but I'd never spoken to him. I hoped I never would again. The man was cruel, his eyes as cold as the ice that coats the streets when the heavy sleet arrives in the winter. The guard, Mason, shared his pale eyes but they had been scorching in comparison. I hadn't believed eyes the color of a glacier could be warm, but his regard had comforted me.
I enjoyed the company of men my age if they were considerate and intelligent. Before my best friend cast me aside as a Houseless Commoner, she had teased me for my curious desires. According to her, women didn't think about passion or sex as often as boys. She considered my interest on the subject unladylike. After unfriending me, she had called me by worse names. I had bottled the curiosity within me, not having anyone else to confide in, certainly never my sister. I hadn't missed the way she had examined the handsome soldier. Her interest had irritated me and I had selfishly rejoiced when he didn't return her appreciation.
Father never failed to remind me that my sister was prettier than me. Her pale, creamy skin contrasted beautifully with her dark hair whereas my skin tone was darkened by the sun. Certain Houses found the paleness pretty, those who valued intellect over physical activity. Her willowy form was more slender than mine, complimenting her delicate facial structure and softer eyes. I had been told my intensity detracted from my beauty, and my form was definitely not willowy.
I pushed the thoughts away. While I was eternally curious and embarrassingly imaginative about the male sex, it was unlike me to dwell on them when other matters captured my attention. Tonight, however, two men occupied my thoughts. The unnamed spy and the handsome soldier, Mason, had been nothing alike, but both had strongly attracted me. Perhaps my mind latched onto anything in an attempt to distract me from losing my brother.
Mum interrupted my musings. "Will you go to the Planning office tomorrow before school? I have Rowan's supervisor's name in my journal. I need you to deliver the news that Rowan will not be returning. I have a previously scheduled meeting I cannot avoid or I would go myself."
I nodded again, the lump in my throat returning. I would happily accept the assignment, though it would make me late for school. I wouldn't hurry either. My mother probably guessed this but didn't caution me to rush. We both believed it was too late to impact my impending tests. Another lesson was not going to affect my scores.
"The High Commander wished me to relay that the King will be sending a summons to extend his gratitude for giving up Rowan," I remembered to tell Mum. Exhaustion punched at me. The messy meeting with Master Blevins to the frigid stand-off with the High Commander had all conspired to drain me.
Mum sighed as she straightened her robes. I asked her once why she wore them when we were only sitting about the unit and she had shrugged, saying she preferred the warmth. She wore her lighter ones all summer long, however. Perhaps the robes were a subtle dig at my father, even though it wasn't the wisest action to provoke him. We were both equally stubborn, she had once told me.
"I suppose the King expects Rowan's father to be there as well."
I winced at Mum's tone and the images her words provoked. I couldn't imagine my father behaving himself or remaining sober through an appointment with the King. I began making plans to excuse him from the proceedings. I would rather lie to the King than have Father disgrace our entire family.
"We will figure everything out," Mum continued, her thoughts likely traveling the same route as mine. She stood and leaned over to kiss my forehead. "Get some sleep, Kee."
I rose and stretched, saying my goodnights to her. After I had readied for bed and snuck into the room I shared with my sister, I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling. Since Rowan had moved
into the Planning dorms, we'd had an extra room. Delia had wanted to claim the space, but I told her to shove off. I knew Mum sometimes slept on the couch to escape my father, even though she tried to hide the fact. Leaving Rowan's room unoccupied gave us a guest room and an escape for Mum when Father was drunk. I was certain she would sleep there tonight, angry at her husband for not saying goodbye to their son. Again, I wished I had left him in the pub. The thought led to a recollection of the spy. I fell asleep, chased by memories of chocolate brown and ice blue eyes. At some point, they both clouded over into blindness, the dreams turning sinister.
Chapter Six
Seb
Sebastian, known as Seb by almost everyone except his adopted parents, tugged at his wavy red hair. It wasn't like Rowan to be late for lessons. Seb knew he hadn't come home last night because they shared a unit in the singles barracks of the Planning and Development House. He figured his friend had stayed the night at his family home because Rowan had been heading there when they parted ways last evening.
Seb faltered, contemplating his actions. They always walked together to their current training area. In a couple minutes, he would be marked as late, but he didn't want to leave in case Rowan appeared. If the roles were reversed, Rowan would wait for him. A couple years with the slightly younger man had taught him Rowan was as steady as the sun. He had finally decided to cease his wait when the form of a woman ran up to him, or rather the Planning offices he leaned against.
The girl looked out of place but she seemed familiar. He wasn't certain what about her he recognized, but his eyes followed her as she stared up at the looming building behind him. Her expression appeared uncertain. She was dressed in the blue and white striped short tunic of a student, the shirtwaist tucked into a flattering skirt of light blue. Her dark hair was pulled into a braid which hung over her shoulder in a thick rope. Highlights of red and blonde shone among the mahogany threads.
Eyes assessed him, freezing him in place. Master Granite would be angry but she looked so lost. He couldn't just walk away. Her expression was despairing. Some great matter weighed upon her and he couldn't ignore the raw need on her face.
"Can I help you?" Seb asked when she came within speaking distance. She moved closer, her hands twisting the end of her braid. Her eyes were the deep green of an alfalfa field, flecked with the blue of the summer sky. He'd never seen a more beautiful color. If he were honest, he had never seen a more beautiful woman. She shone like a jewel amid the monotonous shades of the city.
"Maybe?"
Seb's stomach fluttered as he searched her features, questioning why she felt so familiar to him. She couldn't have attended primary school with him; he would have remembered those eyes. She thrust her shoulders back, perhaps to gather her thoughts or courage, but it took everything within Seb to keep his eyes upon her face. The motion thrust her breasts toward him, something she was delightfully unaware of.
His first reaction to a beautiful girl was always to flirt. He fought the urge even as he admired her perfect form and face. He couldn't conjure his usual confident, playful self, and he couldn't spout the usual compliments he offered other women. Despite his inclination to remain friendly instead of flirt, a quick glance confirmed her luscious breasts perfectly topped an obvious waist and flaring hips. The mandatory school uniform had never been so splendidly displayed.
"I am looking for Master Granite," she said, her voice a rich alto.
Seb's brows rose in surprise. "I am just going to him at this moment. I am lagging behind because my classmate and I always walk together, but he hasn't shown this morning. Would you like to walk with me?"
The girl hesitated and searched his face. After a momentary examination, she nodded and fell into step beside him. They turned towards Low Road, weaving through the sea of colors making way towards their individual stations. Curious eyes traveled their way more than once. The woman's uniform drew attention because the first bell had tolled moments ago and she was not at her appointed location. The citizens had their own jobs to attend, though; they would let her headmaster address her tardiness. As they wound down the alleyway separating first tier from second, the girl glanced his way several times.
"There's something you want to ask?" He looked sideways at her. A pleasant blush tinted her sun-kissed skin.
"What is your classmate's name? The one you were waiting for?"
Seb frowned as he considered. He didn't believe there was any harm in telling her. He kept expecting Rowan to appear behind him and ask why he hadn't waited. The expectation was caused by his guilt and worry, though. Rowan would never berate Seb, his heart was too kind. "Rowan Walton."
The girl's footsteps wavered. She grabbed his arm, halting his progress. They were mere inches apart, the tall buildings on either side throwing their faces into shadow and turning her eyes a darker color. The flesh where her hand rested on his forearm heated, transmitting a tingle of pleasure through the rest of him. She was inches shorter than him. He was not a tall man, so she had to be shorter than the average woman.
"Rowan is my brother. He is the reason I seek Master Granite."
Seb's lips slowly curved upward as he realized why she seemed familiar to him. He had recognized her resemblance to his close friend. She possessed the same jaw as Rowan, the same open manner. Rowan often spoke proudly of his unique sister. Seb felt as if he already knew her though they'd never met. "You must be Kiarra."
She smiled. Her lips were lusciously full with a slight pout. Altogether, her looks might have been considered too bold, but he found himself utterly enchanted. He wanted to draw those full lips into his mouth and hear her husky moan. His throat dried as he fought a wave of guilt. Rowan would be disappointed if he knew the thoughts running through his mind that minute.
"I am," she admitted with a nod. "Are you close with Rowan?"
"Yes. We've been together since the beginning of our training and we share a unit in the Planning dorms. We are planning on being promoted together soon. I had assumed he spent the night at your family unit when he never came home last night. He's never late."
Kiarra looked down at the ground. Again, the sadness fluttered across her face. He wanted to draw her into his arms, soothe away whatever caused her pain. "Rowan isn't coming back." Her words were so quiet, Seb strained to hear. He stumbled in surprise. He hadn't expected something so dire. He waited calmly, sensing the tension behind Kiarra's tone. Whatever had happened, it was bad, and Seb worried for his friend. She continued in a voice aching with sadness. "He had a vision last night. The King's men came for him."
Seb reeled; worried for a second he might faint. Of all the things his considerable imagination could conjure, that particular scenario would never occur to him. He had never been so thoroughly shocked in his entire life, except when he'd received the news of his parent's death.
"He's a Soul Tender?" he hissed, horror coating his words. Kiarra nodded, studying his expression. Seb's mind was elsewhere. His thoughts churned. Kiarra guided him tenderly to the wall, and Seb placed a palm against the bricks, hanging his head. After several deep breaths, he shook his head clear of the overwhelming shock, focusing on the little sparks that flew from her skin to his.
"I apologize. This is the greater sorrow for you. It caught me unawares.” This time he blushed, and he was certain he didn't wear the color as well as she did. He cursed himself for acting the cad. He had been a friend to Rowan all of three years, this girl had just lost a brother. He wanted to ask the particulars on what exactly happened but feared it might be pushing the boundaries of the laws regarding Soul Tender secrets. He imagined their secondary school classes on the subject were the limit of the information he was ever likely to receive on the subject.
"I understand. Please don't apologize. No one ever imagined this possibility," Kiarra soothed. She was a nurturing soul, kind and compassionate. If Rowan hadn't told him of her difficulties with testing, he would have thought her destined towards the land tending occupations of his House. He smoot
hed his green tunic abstractedly.
"I assume you are here to deliver a message to Master Granite of Rowan's whereabouts?"
Kiarra nodded. "I know you can probably tell him at this point, but I'd rather like to if you don't mind." She glanced at him from under dark, thick lashes.
"Of course, Miss Walton. I wouldn't begrudge you anything at this point. I am sorry, too, for your loss." Seb winced. One would think Rowan was dead. Although that wasn't the case, it might as well be. The King would consider his thoughts treasonous.
"Please, call me Kiarra. And thank you."
They turned resolutely towards the alley mouth again, emerging on the other side of the Planning House. The central offices and training school of the Information Exchange House occupied the first tier of this Quarter. The orchards which grew in third tier were the designated meeting place for Seb's class.
The sun had progressed a third of its way into the sky and the citizens who would remain indoors for the day attended their varied assignments. Plenty of people still milled about, however, running errands or enjoying the rare day off.
A cadre of gray clad fourth tier Information Exchange students was being given a tour of the city at their right. Couriers were required to memorize the streets before they took their posts. Seb noted Kiarra's eyes moving over the students and wondered if there was a particular person she sought. The thought stabbed jealousy through him and reminded him Kiarra's arm was still tucked through his. He didn’t want to let her go but knew he should. Seb didn't care about the opinions of the spies in training or anyone on the streets, but Master Granite was not an easy man and he didn't want to risk his teacher's ire. He patted her hand once. She understood his meaning, drawing away.
Pieces of Her Soul: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Soul Tenders Book 1) Page 5