Adeen was sitting in the Women’s Room, trying to ignore the stares from the Selected. She sat, cross legged, on a couch, trying to read a magazine. For the first time since the fall, she was grateful to be wearing the Rebels’ uniform, as the rest of the girls wore big gowns. Looking at them, Adeen could remember the difficulty of doing everything in colossal gowns and high heels, and she comfortably resigned herself to her black pants and shirt. Of course, Skander’s necklace still hung from her neck in between her collarbones, visible to everyone.
She did not know why she’d kept it.
All she knew was that she never took it off, not even to shower. When she slept, she did so with the necklace in her hands, clutching to it as if it was the only still thing in a rotating world. Regina, who sat besides her, shifted and changed the TV’s channel once more. She sighed as a cooking show came up, and changed the channel once more. After repeating this same process a few times, she gave up and settled for the news. Stories of violence reached the Women’s Room.
“The riots took place close to the City Hall, where the Mayor’s house, all Twos, is. Angry mobs consisting of Sixes, Sevens and Eights pounded on the Mayor’s doors, demanding a, quote, fair treatment now that the castes are about to disappear.” The image shifted to an aerial footage of crowds standing outside a mansion screaming. Adeen glanced at it from above her magazine and raised her eyebrows. “The Mayor refused to comment on this.”
The image returned to the studio, and Regina muted the TV. Adeen turned to her magazine again, but not before noticing how tense Regina was.
Finally, the Selected spoke.
“Wasn’t that supposed to end?” She asked quietly. For a moment, Adeen wasn’t sure if the question was meant for her, but her doubts were resolved when Regina turned to her. “Weren’t you supposed to make it end?”
Adeen sighed and looked up from her magazine, forcing her soldier face on. Her black eyes reflected boredom and exasperation.
“For dozens of years the system was the same.” Adeen explained. “We cannot come here and change years old habits in just a week.” She turned to the TV and nodded at it. “They’ll change. The lower castes will realize they’ve been heard and the higher castes will realize big changes are coming. They’re desperate, but not stupid. All eight castes will realize the only way we can prosper is if we do it equally, and even if they’re not selfless, they’ll do it for self-preservation. Give them time, Regina. Illea will soon be better.”
Regina frowned at Adeen’s explanation and turned to the TV again. Her pink lips opened and closed once, twice, three times before she chose her words.
“Where are the princes?” She asked.
Adeen looked sideways at Regina. She knew she had to feign indifference, and turned to her magazine. She passed the page and gave a half shoulder shrug.
“They’re being prepped for their execution.”
Regina glanced at her sideways and narrowed her gray eyes.
“How long will it take?”
“Regina.” Adeen pronounced each word slowly, and was content when she noticed almost every girl in the room became silent and looked at her. They were afraid. “I do not have all the answers. Whatever you think of my position, you’re wrong. They make me seem like a powerful girl, like I’m high in the ranks, but I’m not. All I know is that the princes are being prepared for their executions. Now, stop asking questions. Need I remind you that I was the one who took you out of those despicable dungeons and I can put you back there?”
Regina flushed but shook her head and kept her mouth shut. Adeen stared at her magazine again, trying to concentrate on the articles. But all she could think about was how pronounced the Selected’s fear for her was. Every time she turned to one of them, she shook and looked everywhere but her eyes. All of the girls secretly resented her, Adeen knew that, but they feared her more. To them, she was a heartless soldier capable of slitting their throats with just raising her finger. They saw her the way Adeen had seen the King before, they cowered the way she had. Adeen knew she should feel upset with it, with being compared with the King, but deep down she didn’t care. In a few weeks, she’d probably be dead and the girls would probably be sent to the dungeons again. With no one there to justify keeping the Selected out of the dungeons, they’d probably be sent back and then executed publicly. Adeen wanted to feel repulsed by the fact that she did not care about the Selected’s impending execution, but she was not affected by it.
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The Rebel (#Wattys2016)
FanfictionWhat would have happened if Maxon wasn't born? This is a story in which the castes are still real, and more pronounced than ever. Adeen is a Six. She's almost at the bottom of the caste system, and the number that separates her from the Eights...
