“You didn’t have to do this,” he said.
“Oh, hush—of course I did. Remko doesn’t come very often anymore. I need to make sure he’s eating something home-cooked.”
Ramses stood and grabbed his wife, placed a kiss on her lips, and watched her as she left the room. Remko focused on the different snacks laid out before him and tried not to think of Carrington, which he found himself doing too much of the time. He grabbed a small sandwich and fingered it absently.
Remko imagined even if he’d had the chance to pick a bride, he wouldn’t have gotten as lucky as Ramses had with Lesley. Most married couples coexisted because it was their duty to God, the Authority, and their children. Divorce was forbidden. But Ramses and Lesley had actually fallen deeply in love over their early years of marriage. You could see it in the way they looked at each other with respect and grace, the way they let one another be individuals but also invested in their union. It was evident in the way Lesley cared for Ramses and in the way he protected her. It was enough to make any man jealous—especially one who would never have the chance to experience such feelings for himself.
Though the jealousy usually didn’t feel quite so pronounced as it did currently.
Remko swallowed another sandwich and pushed Carrington’s face from his mind. Thinking about her at all was flirting with danger—it was against the law, and even more so now that she was engaged. He didn’t like to admit how hard it had been to see her leaving Authority Knight’s home last night and to know the two of them soon would share it.
He would have liked to have avoided the entire interaction, but when Remko was given an order, he obeyed. Thankfully, Helms had requested to ride along; otherwise Remko would’ve been stuck suffering in silence with her sitting only inches away. He should have known Helms would try to stir up trouble. Remko was incredibly thankful that Carrington had handled it with such grace. Not that she handled anything without it.
“You are very preoccupied, Brother. What’s on your mind?” Ramses asked.
“Just enj . . . enjoying the qui . . . qui . . . the silence,” Remko said.
“No. Something is bothering you; your stutter always gets worse when your mind is filled with troubles.”
Remko drank slowly from the mug Lesley had brought him. It had always been hard to hide things from Ramses. Remko knew he could be honest with his brother; he just wasn’t sure he was ready to be honest with himself.
“Is it something with work? I overheard one of the farmhands saying that the CityWatch had found the dead body of a Lint out by the river.”
Remko shook his head. “We did, but the tra . . . trail is cold.”
Ramses studied Remko’s face. “But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”
“I am strug . . . strug . . . struggling with my duty,” Remko said.
“That’s unlike you. How so?”
“I’ve never questioned the law or God, but . . . I find myself wish . . . wishing it were different.”
“It is never wrong to wonder, Remko, and it is important to remember that these are mere men who determine what is and is not legal.”
Remko expected such talk from his brother. Although Remko held fast to the way of the law, Ramses had always been much more of a free spirit. Too often, his intellect got the better of him and he criticized the Authority and its policies. Though he was smart enough to be mindful of his words outside his home and around his children, with Remko he never held back.
“Careful, Brother.” Remko was still a Guard member, and Ramses was bordering on treasonous language.
“Sometimes I don’t understand the deep loyalty you hold for the men who took away your choice for a different life.”
Remko didn’t respond. He, like everyone else, had moments of frustration with the Authority, but he also was convinced their rules helped protect their society and keep it safe. After the Ruining, the world had fallen into chaos and the founders of the Authority had saved hundreds of lives with the system they put in place. Besides, he found it much easier to live having reconciled himself to the immutable nature of his situation.
“It was God’s pl . . . plan,” Remko said.
“I wish you would come with me and Lesley to hear Aaron speak,” Ramses said.
Remko stood and turned to face the window behind him. He knew guards who had arrested men for speaking about Aaron in the streets, knew of men locked away in prison for months after being caught returning from one of the clandestine meetings. Remko turned a deaf ear to his brother’s comments but struggled to remain silent when Ramses was reckless about expressing himself.
“I know that you have your duty, and I know how the Authority feels about this man, but if you would just come and listen, Brother . . .”
“You couldn’t und . . . understand the danger y . . . y . . . you put yourself in.”
“A risk well worth it.”
“Ramses, please. . . .”
“I’m sorry; I know I’m putting you in a difficult position, but Aaron has given Lesley and me hope in a time when we believed hope was lost to us.”
“If you were caught—” Remko paused and turned back to his brother—“I cou . . . could not help you.”
Ramses nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to.”
Remko looked into his older brother’s eyes and, without uttering a word, pleaded with him to be careful. His brother acknowledged his concern, but Remko couldn’t get the sense of dread to leave his chest.
“Now,” Ramses prompted, “you were telling me about a law you wished were different.”
As if Ramses had reached out and pushed a button, Remko’s mind jumped back to Carrington. He wanted to confide in his brother; he knew it would help lighten the burden he was carrying, but this was the kind of thing that would encourage his brother’s open rebellion, and that was something he couldn’t live with.
“It’s nothing; just wea . . . weariness,” Remko said.
Ramses sat deep in thought for a long moment, something clearly churning away behind his eyes. Remko ate the final sandwich and waited in the silence.
“Father would be so proud of you, I often think. More so of you than me—your loyalty to the people in this city and the leaders who sit above it; your loyalty as a brother and an uncle. But I wonder if he would worry about your happiness as I do.”
Remko locked eyes with his brother.
“All I ever wanted for you was happiness. I knew this would be your life, knew the CityWatch would become your home and that there was nothing I could do to change that. We live in a society where choice is a farce, and regardless of what I wished you could have, I knew there was nothing I could do to change your future. You know, after Mother’s death I used to sit in your room while you slept and imagine taking you away from this place. I dreamed up a world from our past where individuals had personal responsibility and control over their destinies. Sometimes I would get lost there and only the rising sun would remind me that it was a dream.”
Remko saw the pain in his brother’s eyes, felt the longing in his words. Ramses had never mentioned any of this to him before. Remko would be eternally grateful to his brother for taking care of him after their parents’ deaths, but he’d never given much thought to the amount of parental responsibility Ramses had actually taken on and carried all these years.
“The light is gone from your eyes, Brother,” Ramses said. “Your happiness has been drained.”
Remko wanted to argue that happiness wasn’t essential for him to be an excellent warrior, but he knew that would only give Ramses’s argument weight. Ramses blamed the Authority and the CityWatch for Remko’s dismal outlook, and he wasn’t wrong.
A single thought floated through Remko’s brain before he could stop it. He believed Carrington could make him happy.
Remko scolded himself and worked to keep the emotion from registering on his face. His responsibility and purpose had nothing to do with his personal happiness. His duty was to his people, to the job he had b
een assigned. He took pride in receiving high praise and respect for his skills. The light Ramses wanted to see was a luxury that Remko could not afford and therefore it had never mattered before.
“I’m fine, Ramses.”
“I believe you believe that, but you could have so much more.”
Before Remko could answer, the two giggling little monsters bounced into the room. The heavy mood lifted as both men greeted the children.
“Uncle Remko, Mother wanted to make sure you are staying for dinner,” Nina said.
“Oh, please, please stay,” Kane said.
“Yes, please, Uncle Remko,” Nina said.
Remko glanced at Ramses, who flashed him a look of surrender, and Remko knew Ramses would let the subject lie.
The two wide-smiling faces were a stronger form of manipulation than most tactical torture. Remko nodded and the two minions jumped up and down in excitement.
Lesley walked into the room and ordered the children to help set the table, and Ramses offered his hand as well. The four of them left the room, the twins chattering endlessly. For a moment Remko was alone and his brother’s words slithered past the stone wall of his resolve.
“You could have so much more.” Remko shook off the words and went to be with the family he did have.
18
Carrington flipped a rusty switch on Alfred’s side and listened as the beast screeched and huffed. Since her situation presented the Authority with a conundrum, they had decided that Carrington should continue in her current position until she returned to her parents’ home before the wedding. So she was stuck with Alfred for a while longer and knew the days would drag by.
She’d been worried about seeing Larkin that morning at breakfast, but their interaction had gone smoothly, as if both girls had decided individually to act as though the conversation the night before never happened. Carrington was relieved but sensed that Larkin wished things were different. At moments it seemed Larkin went somewhere else in her head and left reality behind.
Carrington didn’t press the issue; maybe Larkin just needed time to wade through her own thoughts and feelings.
Carrington could already feel herself disconnecting from the things around her. It was hard to stay plugged in when the scenery was temporary. The people she encountered clearly felt the same way. With the exception of Larkin, the other Lints were hardly acknowledging her. She was already gone in their minds, the first Lint ever to move in and then back out.
In a different situation, Carrington could have been a symbol of hope, but everyone knew the circumstances were so rare that she only served as a reminder of their own hopelessness. A walking, talking, continual representation of what they would never have. It made coexisting among them terribly uncomfortable—their piercing gazes, their menacing whispers, their icy expressions. A couple of weeks could easily feel like an eternity.
The doors to Alfred’s room opened and a Lint Leader walked in sporting a mulish look on her face. “Carrington Hale.”
Carrington wiped her hands on the apron she was wearing and approached the Leader. “Yes.”
“Come with me.” The Lint turned and walked from the room and, after a momentary hesitation, Carrington followed. The Leader led her through the different chambers of the factory and out the doors at the main entrance into the sunlight. There she stopped, held out her hand, and nodded toward Carrington’s apron.
Confused, Carrington untied the protective wear and handed it to the Leader. Outside the building stood a large group of CityWatch guards. Among them was Arianna Carson. The girl beamed at Carrington and Carrington searched the Lint Leader’s face for clues.
Shrugging, she snapped, “Don’t ask me. I’m just doing what I’m told.” She quickly disappeared back into the factory.
“Hello, Carrington,” Arianna greeted her. She was even more beautiful up close and Carrington couldn’t help but feel a wave of self-consciousness. She had spent the last several hours in a room where spoiled food was deposited and she probably smelled and looked like the trash she worked with. Arianna, on the other hand, was the picture of perfection—her fair locks pulled away from her face, revealing her sparkling green eyes enhanced by her pink complexion and naturally rosy lips.
“Hello,” Carrington said. Her hand moved on its own, trying to tuck away any stray hairs and wipe the perspiration from her face.
“I thought maybe we could take a walk for a little while. Would that be okay?” Arianna asked.
“Sure.”
Arianna started forward, away from the Stacks. Carrington followed, easily matching the smaller girl’s slow steps. The band of darkly clad watchmen stayed close behind.
“Sorry to pull you out of work,” Arianna said.
“Don’t apologize; the fresh air is a relief.”
“I imagine. I tried to come in and get you myself, but the traveling show behind me wouldn’t hear of it.”
Carrington smiled and felt herself relax. Arianna’s voice was comforting and completely nonthreatening.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I would come see you at all,” Arianna said, reading Carrington’s mind. “I heard that you were chosen to be Authority Knight’s new wife, and I wanted to congratulate you.”
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to come all this way just for that.”
“I didn’t come just for that.” Arianna let her words drop off and a soft silence lingered for a moment between the two girls.
Carrington glanced around as they walked. They were moving toward the river, past a few shops that existed on this side. The street was nearly empty and the few strangers they did encounter retreated into the closest shop as the girls and their posse of brutes approached. Although strange to witness, Carrington understood their reaction. She probably would have done the same thing.
“Carrington, can I ask you something?” Arianna finally said.
“Of course.”
She dropped her voice very low so as not to be overheard. “Why did you go to hear Aaron speak?”
Carrington stopped walking, taken aback by the other girl’s directness. She had completely forgotten that she had seen Arianna there. A sense of dread roiled in her stomach. What if Arianna informed Isaac she’d been there? He would not only refuse to marry her, he would probably have her thrown in prison.
Sensing her worry, Arianna looped her arm through Carrington’s and pulled her forward. “You misunderstand my intention. I was thrilled to see you there.”
“Oh,” Carrington said, not really ready to believe it could be that easy.
“I’m always excited to see new faces. That was your first meeting, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Wasn’t it wonderful?” Though hushed, Arianna’s voice floated. “Aaron recognized something special in you immediately. Then again, he sees something special in everyone who comes.”
Carrington grew more bewildered. “I’m sorry, Miss Carson—”
“Call me Arianna.”
“Arianna, I’m confused.”
“Because Ian Carson is my father?”
Carrington didn’t need to respond; it was obvious what she was thinking.
“You know, ever since I was a little girl I understood what being a Carson meant—the duties that came with it, the responsibilities. It’s like a prison I never thought I could escape. I lived in suffering, hopeless that my path was predetermined. I believed that, for me especially, there were no freedoms, no self-expression, no self. Just duty.”
“But your path was so bright to begin with—most girls would kill to be in your shoes.”
“I think that’s terribly sad. Instead of wanting their own voice, wanting to discover themselves, they just wish to be me . . . and I wished to be anyone else.”
Carrington couldn’t deny that she’d been one of those girls and that she’d wished to be in Arianna’s place on more than one occasion.
“Then I realized I was the cause of my own misery, and that changed everything. I was wishi
ng to be someone else, but I didn’t even know who I was wishing not to be. Madness. The world is full of utter madness.” She chuckled to herself and Carrington gave her a funny look.
Her words had the same tone as Aaron’s, the same underlying message that threatened sanity. Carrington was working hard to build up an immunity to the questions in her head, yet it seemed the slightest whisper threatened that resolve at every turn until it began to crumble.
“You look conflicted,” Arianna said.
“No, just thinking.”
“I was born and raised in the world you are about to step into. It can be very dark and extremely hard to see yourself. I want you to be able to come to me, to seek me out when you forget who you are.”
“I’m not certain I know who I am now.” Carrington wasn’t sure what possessed her to say that, but once the words left her lips a sense of relief swept over her.
“Don’t worry; you will. Aaron is speaking again tonight. You should come.”
“If I get caught . . .”
“Oh, don’t think about that. Risk only exists if you believe it does.”
That didn’t make any sense, and the sudden relief was short-lived. The persistent questions and fears flooded back into place and Carrington wanted things to return to normal—to the time when she knew what was right in front of her and wasn’t doubting the structure that held up her reality.
“The risk does exist, though, and I have too much to lose now,” Carrington said.
“You can’t lose anything you truly need. The things you believe you can lose are all part of the illusion.”
“Arianna, please . . .”
“Come tonight and Aaron will help you understand.”
“I already understand plenty!” Carrington saw alarm wash across Arianna’s face and lowered her voice. “I understand that I’ve been given a rare opportunity after the curse of spending eternity alone became my shadow. And I’m not going to take the chance of losing it.”
The Choosing Page 14