Page 28
Story: Resist
“What?” My stomach dropped. The thought of going to Wes’s house made me feel uneasy. “Why?”
Sasha breathed evenly, appearing tired. “You are being relocated to the estate. Since we’ve accepted Charles’s terms, he no longer wants you living in the barracks. He wants you staying at the estate.”
Whoa! “Wait a minute…” My brain suddenly felt as though it were spinning. I was going toliveat the estate? As in,livewithWes? This wasn’t happening. “Why? What’s going on?”
Sasha spoke up this time. “It’s nothing but a precaution, child, and a formality. As the future First Lady of the North, it’s hardly appropriate for you to live on a military base. Northern tradition dictates you live at the estate.”
“But why can’t I live somewhere else? I mean, isn’t it inappropriate for me to be living with my fiancé or something?” I was scrambling. As much as the barracks sucked, the thought of moving into the Calvernon Estate had my insides wringing themselves out.
“Nonsense,” Fisher stated.
“But you guys were all on me, like, two seconds ago, about manners. How does this make any sense—”
“Child,” Sasha cut in firmly, “I can understand your point, but this is a choice that is out of our hands. President Calvernon has requested that you be relocated to the estate. And we will complywith his request seeing as how we are currently relying on his good will. Do you understand?”
My mouth fell open, but I had nothing. There was nothing I could say to that. I closed my mouth, swallowing hard, and then nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Very good,” she stated curtly as she rose from her seat. “You will follow First Commander Fisher to the car.”
I was desperate, grasping at straws, trying to delay the unavoidable. “I’ve got to get my stuff. I haven’t packed, and I need—”
This time, Fisher cut in. “Your belongings have already been gathered from the barracks.”
I stood there in the silence, feeling the anxiety pooling in my stomach. This was it. I was out of excuses. It was time to face the outcome of the decision I had made. And the worst part was…Edith was right. I was already regretting it.
FML.
16: Castle Calvernon
With nowhere else to turn, Fisher escorted me out of the conference room, leaving Sasha behind. Once outside, we were greeted by an elderly man standing next to a black town car. His uniform was similar to the one worn by our chauffeur in Telvia, and taking in the uniform and car, I assumed he was the driver for today’s excursion. He was a quiet man, too. Didn’t say much. Clean shaven, hair white as the clouds in the sky, and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth that made me think he spent a lot of time smiling, which he did. He smiled when I was led to him by Fisher, smiled as he opened my door, smiled when I asked how long the drive was going to be, and then just smiled some more. But he never said a word.
Fisher, on the other hand, was the exact opposite, doing nothing but grimacing constantly. When I tried talking to him, I got grunts, annoyed sighs, and curt responses. I may have been exaggerating, but I was pretty sure Fisher hated me. Truth be told, I didn’t like him very much either. So we sat in silencemostly, and I looked outside the window, watching the rolling plains and wooded hills of the North fade into suburbia and cityscape.
I think the most shocking thing to see was how much the North looked like Telvia, and then looked nothing like it at all. The city was complete with skyscrapers, the neighborhoods with little houses and big ones. There were little boutique shops, people driving cars, people playing with their kids. It all rang with a familiarity that reminded me of my home, but also so completely different. Because when I looked at the faces of the people around me, there was a carefree attitude in the way they went about their business, a lightness that never felt present in Telvia. Here, people weren’t looking over their shoulder or biting their tongue for fear of who might be listening.
It was…it was weird.
Then there was the greenery—there were plantseverywhere. And I don’t mean the succulents and fake trees that adorned all of Telvia. I mean big,leafyones. Plants with giant, vibrant leaves. And the trees—there were so many trees. Many were beginning to lose their leaves. While on base, I noticed the leaves turning color with bright hues of orange, yellow, and red. And seriously, it had to be one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. The trees never changed color in Telvia. They didn’t sway with a breeze, or groan in the wind. But here…the trees were alive, living a life all their own. And I swear, I felt that if I listened hard enough, I could hear them whispering.
I had never seen another region outside of Telvia, and doing so now was another slap to the face. Raúl’s carefully crafted tales, backed by the Telvian Council, always made it sound like the other regions were deserted. Nothing but desert wastelands. He told us that the only people living outside the wall were hostile, hellbent on destroying Telvia to take its resources.
But it was all a lie.
Everything that ever came out of my father’s mouth was a lie. One big, tall tale—a spider’s web of deception intended to keep everyone trapped in the dark and…
Submissive.
Nothing about the North made me believe they were hurting for anything, or that they evenwantedanything. They had it all.
When the town car arrived at the Calvernon Estate, a tall, wrought-iron fence kept the grounds of the property secured. The main gate entrance was decorated with elegant scrollwork and gold painted leaves shaped out of the iron. As our car drove up to it, the gate swung open, and a white gravel driveway led down the center, lined on either side by tall, pointed cypress pines that stretched toward the sky.
At the end of the long driveway was this huge thing with three-tiers, pouring out generous amounts of water from the top. Water flowed out from the top, down to the second tier, and then cascaded down into the massive pool at the bottom. The driveway wrapped around it, bordering it on all sides.
My brows knitted together as our car rolled up, turning around the structure. “What is that?”
“It’s a fountain, Miss de la Puente,” Fisher said behind me.
I blinked, turning to face him. “A fountain? What’s it for?” The car came to a stop; the fountain on one side and the mansion on the other.
Table of Contents
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