The Proem: Book 0.5 of The Nome Chronicles

by F. F. John

  Right before we return to the tents, Invier and I exchange comm numbers and plan to talk tomorrow. Cawat Yost sings her final note to a standing ovation and I use that opportunity to take my seat. Nobody but Bel notices me slip in amongst the others at the table. She nudges me but I ignore her, clapping with the rest of the crowd.

  Just as the ovation dims, she steps into my side. “Where have you been?”

  What do I say? If I mention I just spent however long outside with a cute boy, she’ll tease me for the rest of my life. And then, Dan, Priye and Kilali will join in. Thankfully, Olia has returned to Nome Singer’s table, so at least she wouldn’t be part of the ribbing.

  I’m trying to find a suitable untruth to tell her when a shout from across the room forces everyone to turn in that direction. Ika, the Scion of Nome Ategun, is pointing at Scion Rith Nikan. We’re too far away to hear what they’re saying but the looks on their faces indicate all I need to know. There’s trouble brewing.

  “Heavens,” Aunty Tari says. “That Ategun boy is always in the middle of something. He’s so thin-skinned.”

  Ika shoves Rith, who stumbles backwards to shouts from his Nome members. They all jump to their feet.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the great Nomes, please calm down and ...” someone begins but the voices from the melee drown out whatever else the speaker says.

  “And now, their allies are moving in.” Uncle Eustace says, sounding nonplussed.

  Titan Serge Carre, Titan Goran Cyra and Titan James Saint Esprit, Sr. soon arrive at Nome Ategun’s table. All of their nomes have close business ties with the Ateguns and honor requires that they attend to their ally in a time of trouble. Even under such perfunctory circumstances.

  But the Nikans are not without support themselves, as Titan Bannes Seltan and Titan Linstock Singer make their way over to Titan Nikan’s table.

  “Guess we have to go lend some help.” Father says, rising from the table.

  “Eustace and Nabo,” Aunty Tari says sternly, “don’t forget that you aren’t young boys anymore. Diffuse the situation, don’t escalate it for fun.” Uncle gives her a peck on her cheek and follows Father.

  Her sons stand and leave the table to her dismay.

  “This is the thing about these idiots. They forget that whatever stupid things they do as individuals draws others into it.” She sounds exasperated.

  With all the people standing between us and the action, we don’t see what’s happening but we hear the shouts and screams that rise into the air. Aunty Tari grips the arms of her chair, her knuckles blanching.

  “I can’t take this.”

  Kilali leads her away as Bel and I follow. My eyes meet Invier’s and his lips curl upwards. I’m certain his smile is for me and not the ongoing fight. Everyone around us melts away and all I see is him. I remember the heat of his hands and his lips. When will there be a next time?

  Chapter Four

  The weeks that follow are pure bliss.

  Invier and I find every excuse to spend time together. We steal away at social gatherings, to Bel’s raised eyebrow. She, however, never again asks where I’ve been. Invier and I also meet up in faraway places where nobody will recognize us. All the more chance to get lost in each other.

  One trip is to the Ovendel Museum. Invier suggested the visit after learning of my love of that era and history in general. He was waiting for me on the museum’s steps with a bouquet of white flowers. The delicate flowers produced a heady and sweet scent that surrounded us, making passersby smile. He explained that they were Kadupul Blossoms, one of the rarest flowers known to man. They only bloom at midnight and then perish under the dawn’s light. Somehow, his botanist friend, Ennix, manipulated the flower’s genes to allow a 12-hour bloom. For me. It was hard to focus on the artwork and sculptures, thinking about the sweet gesture. He bent the laws of nature. For me. I dried the petals and stored them safely in a box on my bedroom desk.

  Another fun trip was to a cafe in Bassam. After our drinks and a few canapes, we strolled barefoot along the beach. Our fingers were woven around one another, sending the usual heat across my body. My toes tickled the pink sand below as the waves crested and fell on the nearby shore. The salt in the air filled my nose with the soft breeze coming in from the ocean. All around us, children somersaulted into the water and couples snuggled on blankets everywhere. Despite being a simple date, it was romantic and memorable. We later kissed in my airship and remained in an embrace watching the sun dip under the horizon in a transforming ombre of dizzying hues.

  We had a habit of comming each other multiple times a day whenever we weren’t together. Our morning conversations were often brief. A quick greeting to wish each other a great day. Afternoon discussions allowed us to catch up on the experiences so far. He’d share his excitement over the cases he’s working on, while I explained the different tasks I endured at one or another of my nome’s companies.

  At night, we’d talk until one of us fell asleep. If he was discussing the intricacies of some complicated legal notion, then I’d be the one to pass out first. On the other hand, if I was filling his ears with talk of a shopping trip or some naughtiness Bel and I got into, his lids would fall over his brown eyes and he’d be snoring in no time. It’s a small sound that I’d listen to, sometimes falling asleep to it myself.

  By the time we’d known each other for a month, our routine was well established. He asked me to be his girlfriend and I agreed though we both thought it best to keep things quiet. Him, because his mother and sister would be too nosy and he didn’t want to answer a thousand questions and me, because I didn’t want to go through the same with Bel and her siblings.

  Several months go by with us quietly happy. But in the back of my mind, a gnawing concern grows larger with every passing day. My Premiere. It’s a point of the year when all girls who have reached the age of majority are formally introduced to society. In essence, it’s a glorified meat market for nomes to find potential pairing mates for their children.

  For most of my life, I’d waited for my Premiere with anticipation. Other than Bel, I daresay most girls look forward to their Premiere. It’s the second most important night after one’s coming-of-age party. If it goes well, a pairing ceremony will be forthcoming and then a wedding celebration will be around the corner.

  But now, with Invier in my life, I’m having second thoughts about the Premiere. Even Bel has noticed that while I’m becoming excited about having a 17th birthday party, I’ve cooled towards the year’s Premiere. How do I explain to her? I haven’t told her about Invier and I don’t want to. It’s nice having something - someone - to myself.

  It would be nice if everyone else could dial down their excitement for me and the upcoming Premiere. Aunty Tari can’t get Bel to be interested and so she focuses her attention on me, constantly asking if there’s a young scion I have my eyes on. My last visit to Pernold ended with her pulling out her nomes chart so she could get a closer look at the most eligible scions that would be worthy of a pairing with my family and I. Priye snickered the whole time, while Bel looked thoroughly embarrassed. When Uncle Eustace walked in to see the chart spread out on the red-lacquered coffee table, he scooped his wife up in his arms to her loud protests and walked out of the living room.

  Nobody knows, but, I’m worried Invier and I be paired together. We’ve been together for months now, but he’s yet to tell me he loves me and I just fear that he doesn’t see me as the woman of his dreams to spend forever with. Personally, there’s no question that I want him to be mine, but what if he doesn’t want the same? It would break my heart. My birthday and the Premiere will let me know how he truly feels because if he doesn’t take affirmative steps to be with me, I’ll have to be willing to be with someone else. Hopefully, I won’t have to sacrifice love to satisfy my responsibilities to my nome and create the future I want for myself.

  It’s at times like this that I need Bel’s counsel. No matter if I didn’t like what she had to say, I’d be reassure
d that she’s in my corner and will be by my side no matter if Invier and I end up together or not. There’s a war within me as to whether or not to broach the topic, but if things don’t go well, I don’t want to deal with her knowing about him. Better to keep mum for now.

  For a long time, Father says nothing about my pairing. Instead, he begins construction of my own separate living quarters on the property. While he doesn’t expressly say it, I know that the new project is his birthday present to me. I work with designers to create the home of my dreams. The one piece of input Father has is his insistence on the building being reinforced with osmite, a chemical substance sourced by Nome Singer from meteors in space. Why? I don’t know, but he was like a child with new toys when conversing with engineers on infusing osmite into every pore of the building.

  Despite Father’s refusal to talk about the obvious, I suspect he’ll want me paired with someone much higher in the ranks than Invier. While there are scions with family fortunes, power and profitability that would be commensurate to mine, Invier is the only one I want to be with. I could never imagine being with Scion Mehrdad Cyra, for instance, who comes from the only nome that rests above mine in the rankings. He’s a horribly violent young man from a family that I consider vile and ignorant. His father is known for having bigoted views against female titanes, having once insulted Titane Yetun and her partners for what he considered an “unnatural” union. This despite the fact that their partite marriage is legal under the Pact.

  Mehrdad comes up to me at the birthday celebration for Nome Sirou’s two youngest children - Xiwa and Xola. He leers at me, setting my teeth on edge.

  My father had just walked off when Mehrdad weaseled his way over to my side, saying, “It’s almost time for you to be paired, Neith Reffour.”

  “And?” I ask, barely able to keep my contempt for him from my voice.

  “I’m the only scion who can bring your nome more profitability given that we Cyras have been first in the rankings for many years now. Our families should discuss the prospect of a pairing.”

  His words make my skin crawl, making me want to hurry home and have a bath. Just being this close to Mehrdad makes me feel dirty. For the umpteenth time, I wish Invier were here. I also wish Bel and her family had attended but the entire family opted to stay home from the one-year-old twins’ birthday, choosing to send a barrage of gifts instead.

  “If you want a pairing with my nome and myself, you’re going to have to be a lot more convincing, Mehrdad.”

  “Oh, I assure you, I can be very convincing, Neith Reffour.”

  There’s no way I’m going to allow myself to end up with Mehrdad Cyra. None. Having had enough of his presence and proximity, I retort, “I highly doubt that.” I pivot so quickly that my curly hair whips him in the chest as I go.

  That night, I’m unable to speak with Invier because he’s asleep by the time I get home. We chat briefly in the morning but it isn’t until the afternoon that we’re able to talk and the topic of the Premiere comes up. It leads to our first argument because he tells me he wants to us the event to announce our relationship to the world. I inform him that to do that, he’d have to seek a pairing with me and he disagrees, saying that he’s not interested in a traditional pairing. He insists that he’d rather ask for my hand in marriage, the way things were done in the pre-nome era.

  While that may be a romantic gesture, I don’t think Invier appreciates that his family’s extremely low ranking make the possibility of a pairing far-fetched, talk less of his suggested option. It’s unheard of for anyone to be paired with someone more than six nomes below them in the ranking. If we were to do that, I’d need the sheer will and power of my father’s support to keep the other nomes from punishing Invier and I by excluding us from profitable deals and transactions. That would do nothing but cause my nome to lose money and its ranking - something I won’t be responsible for. I’m about to explain why Invier makes no sense when I hear someone speak to him.

  “Scion Floran, have you heard?”

  “Heard what?” He asks the faceless voice.

  “Something terrible happened.”

  Invier transfers me to his wrist comm as he rushes into a room full of people. After he adjusts his wrist comm, I’m able to watch what he’s seeing on a floor to ceiling screen.

  “... several miners are missing. I repeat, there has been an explosion at the Mwadui mines, owned by Nome Vesta. Authorities believe the explosion is the work of the yet-to-be-identified rebels who have wrought havoc at other nome facilities over the last six weeks.”

  The rebels. I roll my eyes in irritation. Of course, they’d chose this time to do something ridiculous. Just as Invier and I were discussing the possibility of a pairing.

  Invier scoffs with irritation and heads to his office. “I can’t stand these rebels,” he complains while walking in a white hallway. “Does anyone know what they want?”

  “No idea.”

  “They’re too lazy to find an honest job.” Now back in his office, he shuffles a few papers on his desk before pulling up a vertical screen to view something. “I really just want them to go away.”

  “Me and you both.” I add, pulling up a live feed on my desk of the aftermath at Mwadui. Keeping the video muted, I watch as dust-covered men and women gasp for air and are given water to drink. Some stagger around, before dropping to the ground, coughing up their insides. There’s a reporter speaking on screen to say some words before the footage is the explosion is played in slow-motion.

  Now is not the time to talk about a pairing.

  Chapter Five

  It’s my seventeenth birthday and I can’t get out of bed because Bel and I spent the night drinking and blabbering. The bags under my eyes look like hades but Aunty Tari is on her way to work her restorer magic. We’ll look great at the party tonight.

  Bel lets out a particularly unladylike snore and I lift myself onto my elbows. A sense of melancholy descends upon me as I scan the room. The pale yellow walls are covered in interactive photographs of Bel, my father, Aunty Tari and Uncle Eustace, Dan, Priye, Kilali and even Olia. There are a few of myself at different ages. One of my favorites is a photograph of my late mother. Like the other interactives, once eyes lock on the image, my mother starts to move. Here, she’s sitting in a rocking chair and singing down to her swollen belly. What look would she have on her face today? I imagine she’d be excited. Even more so than I am that this will be the last time I wake up in here.

  My windows are still dim, so I instruct my room’s AI to “brighten.” The sunlight stings my eyes and I shut them until I can tolerate the additional brightness. Bel simply turns away from the windows and curls up some more under the covers.

  I head to the bathroom as I order breakfast from the kitchen. Father will have a cross comment about my absence but it’s my birthday and I don’t want to sit through a learning lesson this morning. Or, listen to him on a business comm. Or, sit at a with only the sounds of clinking silverware and glasses to listen to if he’s having a bad morning.

  Bel stomps into of the bathroom, rubbing her eyes. “Did you have to brighten the windows this early? I need my beauty sleep.” Joining me at the wide mirror, she runs a hand through her dark locks. They’re tousled from sleep. Her fingers scrape at her scalp before her face twists, lips turning downward. “You might need the beauty sleep more than me. There are bags under your eyes, Neith.” The restorer in her sounds alarmed at the state of my face. I don’t look that bad, but for the day of my coming-of-age party, I need to look impeccable.

  With the tap of a caramel finger she opens a drawer and pulls out a boar bristle brush, which she sets to work on her hair. “Are we late for breakfast with Uncle Nabo. I’m hungry, birthday girl.”

  “I’ve already called to have a feast delivered to us.” I say in between gentle bursts of water spraying onto my face.

  At that very moment, the AI announces that breakfast has arrived and I mutter, “open.” Bel and I glide to the bathroom door
to watch as three wait staff escort floating tables piled with food, a pitcher of water and jars of juice. “Happy birthday, scioness!” they say in unison and I express my thanks. There’s a tower of toast arranged into the words ‘Happy Birthday” and a smile plays on my lips. Upon further inspection, I spy colorful fruit on platters, toast, omelets and bacon. The bedroom suite smells heavenly and my stomach gripes, complaining about the cocktails and champagne from late last night. All on an empty belly. Unwittingly, I run a hand across my stomach. Last night was the first time I could have alcoholic beverages delivered to my room, having achieved the age of majority. I wasn’t going to squander that opportunity. Next time I do that, however, I’ll be sure to order food as well.

  We are digging into when Bel asks, “are you excited about the party tonight?”

  I chew on a chunk of toast before saying, “sort of.”

  “Sort of? You’ve been planning your party for months. Worrying about every little detail. You’ve got to be excited.”