Page 59 of Reign
It wasn’t entirely a lie.
Fifteen minutes later, Ahmar reluctantly agreed, not that he believed shit. An ancient grandma? Ahmar had said. Kid, please. But I knew he felt guilty for the wedge that’s transpired between us, and it didn’t take long for him to give in, considering it wasn’t doing any harm and gave him an excuse to converse with his ex again.
He warned it would take some time—maybe a long time, what with convincing his former lady love to do him a solid and getting the results, but I wasn’t in a rush. Not on this.
Lynda warned me to keep Ahmar out of society business, and I was. Sort of. I’m not asking him to investigate the societies and Mom’s murder anymore. She can be content knowing he’s helping me ace a so-called “History assignment.”
With those ducks lined up, I could move on to more precarious items on my to-do list … like choosing an outfit for the first time I’m seeing Sabine since Ivy died.
Ivy’s name incites a swell of rage. I rip my thumb from my mouth and grab for the nearest dress, a deep-V black mini Ivy chose for me to wear at Chase’s party in his family’s lake house.
It seems fitting that I’d wear this to a ceremony Ivy can’t attend. It’ll remind me of her and I’ll be the only one to know the tangible memories that float under my newly donned gold cloak.
As I’m pulling off my uniform, I glance out my bedroom doorway, searching for Emma. She’s not back from class yet, and I figure I’ll cook us up a quick dinner before I head out, considering neither of us enjoy dining hall festivities.
I half-expect Chase to be traveling with her, though I know it’s a fruitless thought. She hasn’t seen him since their breakfast meeting a few days ago, and she told me he was distracted, subdued, and curt enough that she wasn’t eager to meet up with him again.
Doesn’t matter, anyway. Chase wouldn’t be much help even if he decided to communicate with multiple syllables. He chose his side, and I chose mine.
Now it’s time to see who’s won.
20
Callie
It’s so cold outside the dorms that a layer of ice has sealed in the mounds of snow, and each time I slip and stumble off the path, despite my winter boots, it cracks under my weight and into the night.
My breath makes opaque shapes in front of me as I trudge on, my fur-lined hood pulled up to protect my face, but my bare knees knock together like a plastic skeleton prop each time I take a shaking step.
A cocktail dress might’ve been the wrong choice. Snow pants would’ve been better, whether or not they looked good under a golden cloak.
At last, small beams of light skimming the rooftop of the M.B.S. Library of Studies float into view, and I scurry the rest of the way, slipping only twice on the unsalted sections as I take the gradual hill to the front of the building.
I don’t see any other Virtues or Nobles taking the path ahead or behind me, but as Emma assured at dinner, they would’ve arrived early in anticipation of getting a prime spot for the rare robing of a senior.
And what a senior I am. A Briar heir. The Missing Heir.
Just the thought of throwing that title in Sabine’s face makes me flash my teeth into the cold night.
Not yet, my mother’s voice reasons. You don’t have enough to prove your legacy. Stay patient, Calla. Stay smart.
The automatic doors smooth open as soon as I step up to them, the library black with shadows on the other side.
I take one breath. Two.
Then step over the threshold, alone.
* * *
A silent Cloak, head covered in gold fabric and bowed, stands at the secret entrance into the Virtue Temple.
Once I’m close enough, I stop and clear my throat, but the person doesn’t move, save for the hem of her Virtue cloak swaying at her ankles.
Unable to stand the silence in such a dark space, I say, “Um. Am I early for—?”
I’m cut off by a whisper. “Do you accept your elevated status, initiate?”
“Yes,” I draw out, clenching and unclenching my fingers as they tingle from the invasive warmth of the library. “It’s why I’ve come.”