The next soldier comes in as Aiden is leaving. Tall and blonde with dark blue eyes, he looks every bit the genetic wonder. He sits down with purpose, leaning forward on the table. He thinks he's hot stuff.
"Wesley," Grayson says nodding at the man. "What can we do for you?"
"Pretty, blonde, thin." he says shortly. "Surname no lower than 10 or so. Etiquette scores need to be stellar, I don't want her bumbling about."
"We can also take suggestions on personality," I say.
He looks over at me, bored.
"I don't really care much about that," he says. "As long as she has a pretty face and knows how to act in public, the rest is pretty much moot."
"I see."
The rest of the soldiers are pretty mild. One looking for a good cook with red hair if possible, another is looking for a tall brunette with freckles who can craft for extra credits, and another looking for a wife with a good sense of humor. It is more like discussing a shopping list than marriage.
Once we are done with the soldiers, we meet Laura back at the Big House. While we were interviewing the grooms to be, she was listening to entertainers sing in the theater.
"How were they?" Travis asks.
"Better than last year," she says. "The talent has been scarce since it became popular to choose wives with musical talent."
"It doesn't help that their instructor is getting up there in age." Travis says. "I am not so sure the woman can hear anymore. She has to be what 45? Won't be long before she heads to the elder camps."
"Maybe we should see if there is a skilled musician we can bring back from Axiom," Grayson says thoughtfully.
"That sounds like a good idea," Travis replies. "You guys go get settled in the carriage and I will run it by father."
Grayson, Laura, and I gather up our things and load them on the carriage.
"Does it take very long to get there?" I ask.
"Only a couple of hours," Grayson says. "Axiom and Veracity were the first two cities built, and they are much closer together than any of the others. The next closest is two days away."
"I am excited to see it," I say. "And nervous."
"It is almost a mirror city to Veracity," he says. "A few customs are different of course, but for the most part, it is much like this one. I am glad that this year is their year for donating brides, it could do you good to see your home."
"You are not afraid of my memory returning?" I ask, surprised.
"No, I know you are strong enough to handle what might be lying in there. It will be unpleasant, but you could take it. You are stronger than people give you credit for," he says.
"Thank you, I just hope I get the chance one day to find out."
Just then Travis bounds up into the carriage, making Laura squeal when it rocks back and forth. Travis is laughing at his sister's distress when he drops down into the seat beside me. I notice Grayson's eyes go dark when Travis takes my hand. We take off, and Grayson settles down into his seat, lowering his forehead against the window and closing his eyes. It appears he has reverted back to his anti-social persona.
"So I hear father may have picked you out a husband finally," Travis says to Laura.
"Oh I hope so," she says. "I am so bored hanging around here. I should be fat with a baby by now."
"Did he tell you what city he is from?" Travis asks.
"Not yet, he wants to get it set in stone blah, blah, blah . . . You know father, he is afraid I am going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person. I do know he is a General's son though."
"Well that's good," Travis says. "No need to change your lifestyle too much then."
"Next we just need to get Grayson engaged again," she says.
"In good time," Travis says, softly. "Losing a great love is not something that is easily remedied. I only hope he can move past it soon and start living his life again."
"Maybe life doesn't have the same appeal anymore," Grayson grunts with his eyes still closed.
"Not asleep then?" Travis asks.
"Not asleep then," Grayson agrees.
"You should know better Travis," Laura cracks. "If Grayson isn't snoring, he isn't asleep!"
"I do not snore," Grayson protests.
"Should I get a scanner out brother?" Laura laughs.
"No need for all that," he says gruffly, settling back down in his false sleep as Travis and Laura laugh.
The two of them return to their small talk, and I find myself drifting off. After what feels like only a few minutes, Travis nudges my shoulder gently.
"We are here, Kat, welcome home."
Grayson wasn't kidding when he said that Axiom is a mirror copy of Veracity. The same buildings line the same main road, and an identical Big House sits at the end. Even the buildings are color coded in the same order.
A small crowd of people meets us as we pull up to the Big House. I scan their faces, trying to pick out my brother, but they all blend together, no one any more familiar than another. As I exit the carriage, a radiant young woman steps forward to take my hand.
"Katherine!" she cries, "I am so happy to see you!"
"Thank you," I say. "I am so sorry, but . . . I don't remember who you are."
"I am your sister-in-law, Sarah," she says. "Lucas' wife."
Stunning with long, blonde hair and crystal blue eyes, Sarah shines in a radiant aura of self-confidence. Not much taller than I am, she has a tiny frame and a surprising amount of curves. Her lips, which are curved in a natural smile, are full and red.
"Lucas has been called away for business," she says apologetically. "He is not sure if he will make it back in time to see you. This is John; he will show you to your rooms. I have opened up a newly renovated hall in the west wing just for your arrival."
"I am sure Katherine would prefer staying in her old rooms," Grayson says.
"Lucas was very clear that she would not be staying there," Sarah says, with feigned sweetness. "He is adamant on doing everything he can to prevent Katherine from suffering the return of her memories, and I agree with him."
"I think she would be just fine," Grayson grumbles.
"A woman's mind can be delicate Grayson," Sarah says. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did anything that might damage the fragile balance of her temperament."
"The west wing will work just fine," I say, trying to defuse the building argument. "I trust that Lucas and Sarah have only my best interests at heart."
As we walk the hallways, I try to take in every detail, desperate to jog my memory. I picture myself as a small girl running through these rooms, but none of it feels real to me. Axiom's Big House is identical in shape and design to the one in Veracity, and the decor is disappointingly similar. Nothing stands out, or seems familiar
The west wing is light and airy with large windows and silk curtains. It is obvious that great care was taken in the renovation of these suites, and no detail was neglected, nor expense spared, in the design. With its abnormally large rooms filled with grand furniture and rich fabrics, the west wing is a testament to the wealth and taste of the first family. After showing us each to our quarters, John advises us to freshen up and meet in the ballroom in an hour.
Sadie is already in my room when I walk in, waiting to help me undress. I spend most of my hour in the bathroom washing off the grime from the trip. Soaking in the deep tub, my mind drifts to Grayson, like it usually does. I am a terrible fiancée.
Laying my head against edge of the tub, I imagine the two of us together in the safe house; the feel of his arms wrapping around me as I wept. He seemed so different then, and it hurts to see the tortured expression he carries with him now. Everyone keeps talking about his lost love whom he is pining for. Even he has referenced her. If he is really suffering such heartache, why do I still get the feeling his is trying to entice me?
I am jolted back to reality when Sadie sticks her head into the bathroom to hurry me along. Since so much of my time had been wasted daydreaming, we dry my hair quickly and tie it back in
a simple braid.
"I would like to wear one of my mother's gowns if any are unpacked," I say.
"They are unpacked, but Sarah brought you a dress while you were bathing."
"Why would she do that?"
"It's a . . . special dress."
"What do you mean, a special dress?"
Walking out of the bathroom, I am greeted with a lavish, gold gown. I groan at the sight of it, falling facedown onto the bed. Am I not different enough? Is there not enough talk behind my back? No one wears gold. Raising my head slightly, I glance at the dress. The beaded lace bodice is strapless and cut low at the hips, leading to a full skirt with tulle and organza vertical ruffles. I have to admit that it's gorgeous.
The bodice is a corset and I have to stand, bracing myself against the bedpost as Sadie ties up the back. I slip on the dainty, gold heels and diamond tiara that were left with the dress, as Sadie shakes her head in amazement. She places a comforting hand on my shoulder; we both know this will end in trouble. There is a sharp knock on the door, and a grim woman enters unannounced.
"I am here to give you some instructions," she says. "New rules of etiquette concerning the first family of the Seven Cities."
"I have no idea what you are talking about," I say confused.
"Axiom was the first of the cities to be built," she says. "The General believes this sets our first family apart from all of the others. It is his desire that this separation is made clear to everyone."
"You've got to be kidding me," I say, shocked.
"I most certainly am not," she replies, insulted.
"You basically just accused her of lying," Sadie whispers, giving me a hard nudge.
"I apologize for being rude," I say to the woman. "I am still adjusting. Please go on," I say, feeling very uneasy by this turn of events.
"Right," she says. "You and your future husband may address the General and his wife by their first names, however everyone else must address them as Sir and Ma'am. Anyone addressing you or your future husband must do the same, even Generals, save for your brother of course. You will have new gowns made and sent to you. You will wear gold with green accents only. So will your future husband."
"I thought people living in the Big House only wore green," I say.
"As of now, you are a member of the first family of the Seven Cities, and will wear gold with green accents." she says robotically.
"I can't believe the other cities are okay with this."
"I suppose they have to be," she says flatly. "Our army is huge and we have the largest population of all the cities. It would be very bad for them if they didn't agree."
"This is going to make my life much more difficult."
"I imagine you are right about that," she says, turning to leave.
As she walks out, Travis walks in, looking very displeased in his new outfit.
"Looks like I have an awkward conversation with my father ahead of me," he says, reaching out for me.
"I can't believe he is setting us apart from everyone like this. The one thing I have been told over and over since returning is not to mess with tradition. Why would he try and put us above everyone else?"
"I can't even begin to guess at his motives," Travis sighs. "While we are here we need to humor him as much as possible, though. We can have a proper discussion about all of this with father when we return."
"No one is going to like this," I say taking his hand.
"No, I don't believe they will."
21 – Brides
The ballroom is crowded with anxious young women. Sarah and Laura stand on the fringe of the crowd, deep in conversation. Grayson is of course, sulking in the corner. I know that heartbreak can be a devastating thing, but it's hard to imagine any girl being worth the pain he is putting himself through.
Sarah glides over to us when we come in, gushing over this year's graduates. The task looks daunting and I have to agree with her that it will be hard for us to pick just a handful. The selection process starts on the shallow side, separating the girls based on their physical attributes. We make our way through the crowd, selecting several candidates for each soldier based on their requests. The sad fact is that the majority of the girls are judged based on looks alone. This must be so hard for them.
Laura seems to delight in this step, making little comments about rejected candidates as she filters through them like clothes in a closet.
"This one would be good if she didn't have such thin hair," she tells me.
"Laura, please," I beg. "She is standing right there. Must you be so insensitive?"
"What for? This is the age of honesty isn't it? I can't help if my opinion hurts the feelings of one of these delicate little brides to be. It's my job to sort them, so I sort them."
"You talk as though they are livestock rather than actual people."
"Aren't they though?"
"Laura . . . "
"What? I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It is a good system and one that we need if we are going to thrive as a society, but there is no reason to sugar coat it."
"You could be a bit kinder."
"I could be a lot of things. I could also just be myself. That seems a lot easier don't you think?"
"How would you feel if someone was walking around, making hurtful comments about your appearance?"
"If you are going to try and use an example to convince me to change my ways, you should pick one that is more realistic."
"Really, Laura? You can't seriously be that full of yourself."
"I think you will find that I can," she laughs.
With the ballroom thoroughly sorted, the next step in the selection process is barricading ourselves in a hot room for hours on end, reading a lengthy packet on each girl. The paperwork describes their talents and achievements, as well as likes and dislikes. Sadly, several girls are eliminated at this stage based on their family ranking alone. The task is disheartening and takes forever. We are all burnt out and starving by the time we finish.
Changing before dinner, I find a second golden gown waiting for me. Sadie just shrugs when I shoot her a questioning look, and I slip into it without a word.
Stepping into the massive dinning hall is like stepping into a novel. Hundreds of candles line the walls and hang from massive chandeliers, and endless plates of food are laid out from one end of a long buffet to the other. Dashing young footmen walk in and out of the room, serving food and wine while pretty maids clear the table of plates as fast as they are emptied.
Almost every seat at the massive table is full, and all the guests are dressed in finer clothing than I have seen even in our Big House. The men are in full suits of an elegant dark green, which almost looks black in this lighting. The women wear gowns ranging from emerald to sage, all accented with delicate silver necklaces, belts, and pins. This is a show. My brother and his wife are sending a message they hope get back to the other Generals, "We have the money . . . we have the people . . . we will get what we want."
Mixed in with the sea of green, the gold Sarah, Travis, and I wear stick out in the most garish way. It is impossible not to see that we are segregated, removed from the very class we are supposed to belong to. There is no mistaking the intention of my brother based on our clothing alone. He means to see us rise above the other families. Doesn't he realize the top is a very dangerous place to be?
This is not how I expected my return to Axiom to go. I was searching for a connection, a sense of belonging, but instead I feel even more alienated than ever before. I don't want to be put above anyone else. I want to melt into the crowd, not be pulled from it. This pedestal I find myself on is a very precarious position that I am not prepared for.
Sarah has hired musicians to sing loudly during the entire meal, so there isn't much conversation. My head is pounding by the time we make it through the four, undeniably delicious, courses. Travis holds my hand tightly through most of the meal, sensing my discomfort and doing his best to lend me support. He brings his lips close to my ear
, whispering of Sarah's attempt to drown out any opportunity for us to talk to each other. I suppose it's easier to avoid giving answers if you can't hear the question.
After dinner, I practically crawl back to my suite, never happier to lock myself away in my room. Exhausted, full, and irritable from the constant singing, I undress and fall into bed. I had hoped walking these walls would jog my memory and bring back a sense of who I was, but so far all it has done is make me into something that feels even stranger. I came to find Kat. I have no use for this golden Katherine. Closing my eyes against the disappointment, I fall asleep to the sound of music still drifting up from the party downstairs.
Jack and I are curled up together by the fireplace, as simple meal spread out on the coffee table before us. Jack lowers his head and kisses me. I sigh, and he pulls me closer, kissing me again.
"So you would marry me Kat?" he asks. "If you could?"
"Of course I would. I love our life here. I love you."
He strokes my hair and looks into the fire. He is quiet for so long, I look up to see if he is has fallen asleep. His expression is troubled and I sit up to face him.
"Are they coming for me?"
"Yes."
"I don't want them to! I want to stay here with you. I don't want that life anymore."
"I am not sure that we really have any choice. I keep trying to think of ways to make this work, but so far nothing I come up with seems a safe enough bet."
"I dream of that life sometimes," I say. "Just bits and pieces here and there, faces and flashes of my childhood. I forget most of it by the morning."
"You also have nightmares."
"Yes, they are awful. Blood is everywhere, it's in my eyes and I can't see anything. There is screaming, so much screaming."
"I wish you didn't have to go through that. I would take all that away if I could."
"You do. When I am with you, all that hurt and confusion goes away. You make me forget all the bad, and I can be happy."
I wake up with a start, pulled out of my dream and back into a dark room. The memory of Jack's face is so clear, the intensity of his feelings so vibrant, that for the first time, the love I feel for him doesn't fade as I wake. It stays there, just under the surface, gnawing at me. I can't love him. My life is complicated enough already. I refuse to fall in love with a dream!
Veracity (The Seven Cities Book 1) Page 17