Ascending

Chapter Fourteen

Just as I did in June I sit in the conference room, my parents and grandfather sitting in front of me. Grandmother was preoccupied with her women's group and unable to attend today's meeting. 

I'm almost glad about her absence. She makes me soft and vulnerable. I don't have room for that, not around my parents, not around anyone. Anyone but her.

My mother folds her hands and rests them on the table. Her hair is the same as mine, a golden blonde that falls to her waist, but the color grey seeping through her roots is undeniable.

Bobby and I were the only ones to receive our mother's hair. Marcus, Sloan, and David got our father's black locks instead. Juliet has brown hair, no one knows why, and after she turned four no one bothered to care.

"Emmalyne," my mother says. Her voice is sweet and calm. "As you know, your trail drew to an end yesterday. The Court spent all of last night coming to our final decision."

I wait for the devastating blow. I know my fate, but they aren't aware of that. I paint a face of innocence and intrigue as my mother rubs her thumb against her forefinger.

"The Court has deemed both Sir Gregory and Sir Johnathan fit for your hand in marriage." My mother finishes quickly.

As I nod my parents' exchange glances, wondering why I haven't blown up and demanded Logan be my husband. I'm still going to blow up, I'm just trying a different angle today.

"Could you please explain why Sir Logan was deemed unfit?" I question keeping my face placid and unreadable.

They all still look confused and are unable to come up with an answer quick enough, but I don't give them much time. But then against, that was the point.

"Is your reason that Logan is not well connected? He doesn't benefit the family in any way if we marry. Is that the reason?" My voice is eerily calm as I speak to them.

"Uh-uh no." My grandfather stumbles over his words. "That is not the full- well that's not entirely the reason. I uh- We-"

I hold my hand up to silence him. "Or is it the fact that his parents cut hair to make a living? Could you just not imagine dirtying the lineage with a commoner? Need I remind you where you came from, Mother?"

"Absolutely not!" My father growls. He lays a protective hand over my mother's tightly clasped fingers.

I don't listen. "The daughter of one of the lowest government official in the poorest region on Legibus. Only considered for the trial after her mother begged on her knees. Only accepted for exceptional, fleeting, beauty. A visit to Mrs. Ryans' salon might do you some good.

I know I jabbed my mother in a sore spot. If I have to learn my place, I shall remind her of where her's is.

"You are aware that this decision is final." My grandfather states. "There will be no changing our minds."

"Oh, I know," I say my voice going soft once more. I pretend to examine my nails before speaking once more. "I just want you to think about a life that you could have made better and actively chose to make it worse."

Without waiting to be excused I push away from the table. The life I was talking about was Logan's, but I very well could have meant mine.

As I step into the tele-lift I turn back to face my parents. My father has his arm around my mother, she's looking down at her lap and he is consoling her softly.

I hope I made her cry.

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It's all I can do to keep my hands from shaking as I rap my fingers against the door to Logan's room. It's in the north wing and in the guest corridor. For three excruciating seconds, I stand alone in the hallway before a servant opens the door.