Page 6 of Degradation

“I will do what is necessary. As will she. She’s a Founder after all. She has her father’s blood. His strength, his ambition. She will be more than happy to play her part. To do her duty as her family dictates.”

“You’re sure about that?” He says, getting right in her face.

“Why don’t we ask her, she’s standing right outside the door.”

My face heats instantly. I barely have a second to compose myself before those doors spring open and I’m there, exposed, and it’s more than apparent what I was up to from how I’m wrapped up in the curtain.

“Paitlyn.” My mother says with that irksome, expectant tone she puts on when we have guests and wants me to behave.

“Paitlyn.” Antonio says throwing her a look.

My eyes dart between them, between the only parent I have and the man who even now, I still can’t figure out.

“I…” I begin but fall silent when my brain refuses to come up with any decent sort of explanation as to why I’m stood here beyond the obvious.

“Paitlyn,” My mother says again, more gently. “We were just discussing your future. A potential marriage offer has arrived. An advantageous one. One that would make your father proud…”

She thinks she’s being so clever, so subtle, but we can both hear the manipulation in her words. It’s Pearce. He’s doing this. Forcing this. I know it.

“It’s forbidden.” I reply before I can stop myself. I know the laws as well as anyone. My mother made me study them, made me learn them all by heart. Knowledge is power, right? I had that fact drilled into me from the moment I could read.

She pulls a face. “Rules are made to be broken.”

“That’s not what you said…”

She cuts across me as if my opinion doesn’t even matter. “Those were different times. The Brethren is far stronger now than it was, far more powerful. We no longer have to fear a blade in the dark, we no longer have to worry about uprisings and revolutions. We hold the power now. We can do as we like, andI for one think it’s high time we stopped hiding, stopped acting like we have anything to fear.”

“You’re a fool if you believe that.” Antonio states. “A fool and a traitor too.”

“It’s not treason.” My mother hisses.

“It is.” Antonio snarls. “Our Grand Master himself declared such statements as such. You’re lucky I value your life enough not to report it.”

“Or you’d what?” She sneers. “You’d see me taken away, sent to Oblivion, given over to those mongrels, the Blakes?” her dark eyes land on me and to my surprise she doesn’t look in the least bit afraid. But Antonio is right. His word alone is enough to condemn her, to condemn me too if he chooses. “Look at her,” My mother says, “She’s young, she deserves to live, to not be constantly hiding away.”

“Marrying her to Gunther is not allowing her to live.” Antonio snaps. “And as her Guardian, I forbid it.”

“Gunther overrides you.” My Uncle states loudly as he steps out from behind a bush like he couldn’t be any more of a cartoon villain. I knew he’d be lurking somewhere. I knew he’d be listening in. Clearly, he’s entangled with whatever this is.

My stomach turns as he struts up to us, looking more and more like the smug bastard I know him to be.

“We live in his Chapter.” Pearce continues. “We live by Gunther’s rules. And besides, it is a decision our family can make without you.”

That’s not true. We all know that. Antonio was made by our Grand Master, his family were made by them. He reports directly to him, not to some mere Chapter Lord.

Antonio narrows his eyes, but my mother turns, quickly grabbing my arm tightly, telling him the discussion is over as she pulls me back into the house.

As I glance back, I see them both squaring off and I wonder if this here will be the moment he finally decides to fight him. If this moment will be the tipping point.

Pailtyn

My mother brushes my hair, humming away, while I sit staring at my face in the mirror. I’m not unattractive, I know that much. My mother ensures I have the best products, so my skin is literally glowing, that my hair is so glossy it feels like literal silk.

When I was fourteen, I underwent my first round of cosmetic surgery, fixing the slight wonk on my nose; a wonk I inherited from her. After that, I had a few more, fixing other issues, other imperfections. When I was sixteen and had officially stopped growing, I underwent the most gruelling one, having the bottom two ribs removed, giving me what is now, the perfect hourglassfigure. It took me months to recover from that one. Months of pain, months of rehab. But apparently it was worth it.

I have a personal trainer, I’ve been on the same strict, plant-based diet for years - I have endured everything necessary to ensure I look like a damned goddess. That I fit the dreamlike image most men want in a wife.

“You’re just nervous, Paitlyn,” My mother says, her voice soft but firm. “It’s natural to feel this way. Marriage is a big step but think of the security it brings. Think of the family you’ll have, the duty you’ll fulfil.”