Page 57 of Semper
She said it with such reverence that it felt like the word marriage meant something entirely different.
"Marriage on the Isle," she continued, "is not just a personal commitment, but a vow that ties you into the very fabric of our society. Every union here has a purpose, far beyond love or convenience. It’s a partnership that commands respect and requires sacrifice."
“Sacrifice?”
She nodded, her gaze growing distant for a moment. “Yes. You’ll understand in time, but just know that marriage here is not just a bond between two people. It’s a merging of legacies,bloodlines, and the roles we play within the Isle. You will never just be his wife—you will always be a symbol for the people of Impío.”
I looked away, the weight of her words pressing on me.
That certainly wasn’t what I had ever imagined when I thought of marriage. This was something far deeper, more dangerous, and more powerful. I wasn’t just marrying him. I was marrying the Isle, its history, and its secrets.
Esther watched me closely as if reading the thoughts that flitted through my mind. “It’s intense,” she admitted softly. “But it’s also beautiful in its own way. You’ll come to see that.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I simply nodded again, my mind whirling with the possibilities and the unknowns that lay ahead. The nuptials, the Rite, the role I would play—it was rushing toward me faster than I could prepare for.
After a long moment of silence, Esther placed a hand on my arm, grounding me back in the present.
“You’ll do fine,” she said with certainty. “You were chosen for a reason, and I will be with you every step of the way.”
I gave her a small, tight-lipped smile, though it did little to ease the knot in my stomach. "I hope you're right."
Her grip tightened slightly, and she leaned in closer. “I know I’m right. You’re stronger than you realize. And once you’ve completed the Rite, you’ll understand your true power.”
The conviction in her voice was both reassuring and terrifying. My eyes flicked to Pandora, who sat calmly, sipping a drink with her ever-present blindfold. Tonight, it matched her painted face perfectly. She looked like a painting come to life.
I wondered how she navigated all of this without seeing the world around her, yet somehow managing to be more aware than anyone else. As the night wore on, music swelled, and the laughter around me grew louder, more vibrant. Despite the noise, I felt distant, disconnected from it all. I glanced overat Alexander, who was deep in conversation with someone I didn’t recognize, his face unreadable as always. For a moment, I wondered if he ever felt like this, if the weight of his position ever suffocated him the way mine seemed to be suffocating me.
Then again, he thrived in this world. He was born for it. I was still trying to figure out where I fit in. When it came time for everyone to eat, Alexander led me to the table situated on a small dais above the rest. The air felt thick with anticipation as we approached, and I couldn’t help but notice how once again, every head turned in our direction.
My grip on his arm tightened reflexively, and he pulled me closer. The chair at the head of the table caught my attention first. It was unlike any of the others—made of what looked like blackened bone, twisted and intricate, almost grotesque in its beauty. I did my best not to stare at it too hard, unsure if I was seeing it correctly or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Alexander pulled out a chair for me, not with the casual elegance he usually displayed, but with a sense of ceremony. I sat down, trying to ignore the strange weight of everyone’s eyes as he claimed the grotesque-like throne.
Across from me, a man with a painted face, much like the rest of us, smiled broadly. His features were familiar, his sharp profile unmistakable—Emilio. I’d seen his face many times in the photos that lined Alexander’s office. His grin was too bright for the occasion, and it threw me off for a moment before I forced myself to return the smile, albeit hesitantly.
Esther took the seat beside me, while across from her, Alexander’s father sat, his gaze immediately locking onto mine. No matter how many times I saw him in passing, it was never any less unsettling how much he looked like his son. Even with his face painted it was like staring into a future version of him down to the unsettling intensity that lingered in his expression. But there was something more predatory about him that mademy skin crawl. The rest of the table filled up quickly—Keres, Pandora, Jamison, Phoenix, and Osiris, along with a few others I didn’t recognize. They were all men, save for us Electi and Esther.
I noticed the empty chair beside Alexander’s father and assumed it was meant for his mother. She wasn’t here, though, and I wondered why. I hadn’t formally met any of his family, really. It struck me as odd, especially with our marriage looming.
Shouldn’t I know them before that happened? The Isle was big on family, traditions, and bloodlines.
“She wasn’t feeling her best,” Esther leaned over and murmured.
She’d seen me staring at the empty seat. I was about to reply when Alexander’s father suddenly spoke.
“You look beautiful,” he remarked loud enough to carry across the entire table—and beyond. The compliment wasn’t directed to anyone else but me.
Murmurs of agreement spread through the gathering. I glanced at Alexander, unsure of how to respond, but his father continued before I could say anything.
“You’ve been blessed by the Isle,” he said, now looking pointedly at Alexander. “She should have been here all along.”
The room buzzed again, a little louder with more agreement.
It wasn’t simply a compliment, it was an endorsement, a proclamation to everyone in attendance. He was explicitly stating that I belonged here, that I had always belonged here.
But why now?
Why make such a declaration on a night meant for a sole purpose? Was it another test? A show of power? Or was there something else going on that I wasn’t aware of? Alexander’s hand found its way to my thigh beneath the table, his grip firm but reassuring. He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "Take it as a compliment,deliciae. It means more than you know."
Bishop, seated further down the table, raised his glass in a small toast. “Indeed, she’s a gift to us all.”