16. Rise and Shine
16
Rise and Shine
Annalise
“Is she awake?”
“How should I know? She hasn’t moved an inch.”
“Should we call for someone?”
“Perhaps.”
“Do not!” I shout in protest, still having yet to open my eyes for the day. Despite Tabitha and Guinevere disturbing my peace, I’m not annoyed.
Not with them, anyway.
“Oh! Well… good morning,” Guinevere says, and I’m guessing she means to mask the worry in her voice, but she’s doing a piss-poor job of it. “Actually, it’s a little after noon, so…”
I don’t budge, letting my body settle deeper into the mattress.
“Are you well?” she forces out, and my only response is a deep groan.
I can’t help but to consider all that happened last night—running out of the ball, the argument between Cas and I that followed.
“With how you rushed off during the celebration, we wondered if…”
“Um, we weren’t wondering a single thing,” Tabitha interjects. When I open one eye to spy on them, I catch her nudging Guinevere with her elbow, likely stifling her before she can wedge her entire foot in her mouth.
“It’s fine,” I grumble. “Let her speak her mind. We all know everyone else is certainly talking about me this morning.”
“Since you mentioned it, you should probably know, there is a rather lengthy article in the paper.” Guinevere stops abruptly, and my guess is that Tabitha’s shut her up again.
“Perfect.” I roll over onto my back, bringing the pillow with me, covering my face to keep the light out of my eyes.
“It’s not so bad,” Tabitha says, dropping down onto the side of my bed. Her hand warms my shoulder when she lightly pets me there, like one might do to calm a high-strung housecat.
My head’s throbbing and the day has just begun. I can only imagine the gossip that’s circulating about me, the scandalous rumors being touted as truth.
“Just… put me out of my misery,” I sigh, tossing my pillow to the floor. “Tell me how the rest of the evening went. Every single detail.”
I don’t miss how Tabitha and Guinevere share a loaded glance, but it’s Tabitha who shifts on the edge of my bed, preparing to speak.
“Well, after you fled the ballroom, the alpha wasn’t far behind you. We assume your sudden exit was the reason for his exit, but that’s purely speculation, of course,” Tabitha explains, but I neither deny nor confirm. “After some time, he returned, but he seemed troubled.”
“Pensive might be a better word,” Guinevere chimes in.
“Yes, pensive. At the start of the evening, he was charming and polite as usual, but after you took leave, there simply was no joy left in him,” Tabitha explains, and I try to imagine it—the sour look on his face when he couldn’t strongarm me into returning, couldn’t force me to pretend I’m onboard with this arrangement.
“As planned, he made his selections from Ms. Dawson’s girls, then he retreated to his seat at the head of the table. His guards kept a pretty tight circle around him, blocking guests from approaching him for conversation.”
“And he just sat there like that for the rest of the evening?”
Guinevere nods, answering my question. “Yes, the entire evening. He didn’t dance or even talk to anyone after you were gone.”
There’s no doubt the media has had a field day with this one, speculating what transpired between Cas and I while we were both absent from the ball. Only for him to return pouting and sitting in isolation.
But it serves him right.
Whatever is being said about us, whatever bad press our behavior has garnered, I hope he’s the laughingstock of all New Eden this morning. I hope they’re all wondering how an alpha who can’t keep peace in his own household can possibly keep peace among the clan.
“So?”
When I arch a brow at Tabitha, she seems confused by what I’m asking.
“So?” she says back.
“I believe she’d like to know who the alpha selected,” Guinivere clarifies. “Is that right?”
I nod, trying to ignore how my stomach twists and turns. No, I don’t want to know, but… I need to.
Guinivere clears her throat, and she’s terrible at hiding her feelings. She doesn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but the spotlight is certainly being shined on her.
“Well, I’m sure the alpha deliberated for several hours the night before, selecting the women he felt would best suit not only him but the role they’ll play within High Chamber affairs. And?—”
“Oh, just get on with it,” Tabitha gripes, rolling her eyes at Guinivere’s lengthy presentation.
“Fine,” Guinivere says, straightening her posture. “The women officially endowed with the title Consort Elect are Clementine Darby, Arabella Westchester, and… Wilhemena Emory.”
Hearing that last name, I sit up, propping myself on both elbows. “What… the actual…”
“Ladies?”
The sound of Ms. Radcliffe’s stern voice has all three of our gazes shifting toward the doorway where she stands. Tabitha and Guinivere are on their feet the next second, offering Ms. Radcliffe a quick curtsey as they exit the room. Now, it’s just the two of us, and I don’t like that dutiful look on her face. It gives me the feeling she’s about to ruin what little chance I had at squeezing even an ounce of goodness out of this day.
“Good afternoon, Ma’am,” she says, bowing her head slightly with the words. “I trust that you slept well?”
Actually, I tossed and turned until sunrise, but I smile and choose not to answer.
“There are a few items on this week’s agenda to discuss. Would you prefer that I come back later, once you’ve had a chance to prepare for the day?”
She looks me over, the disheveled state of my hair, my wrinkled nightgown.
“No, now is fine. I’m alert.”
“Very well then,” she says with a nod. “Now that things are progressing right along, I was just thinking that this seems an appropriate time to begin filling your social calendar. But, as luck would have it, before I could even think of a starting point, you received an invitation.”
“An invitation?”
She nods again. “Yes. To meet with the Laurel Guild.”
There’s a gleam of excitement in her eyes. It’s the same look of pure joy Aunt Geneva would’ve had if it’d been her delivering this news. The Laural Guild is known throughout all of New Eden, but their circle is small and tight. One does not simply push or buy their way into being a member, you must be selected. And only rich women of noble breeding are even considered.
My head falls back to the pillow, and my gaze is fixed on the ceiling. “Pass.”
Lady Radcliffe stammers a bit. “I’m—I’m sorry. Did you just say pass ?”
Rubbing my eyes as a yawn slips out, I nod. “The last thing I want, or need, is to be forced to take up with a gaggle of snobs, judging me, telling me the same exact things everyone else is always telling me. Be more ladylike. Be more grateful. Blah-fucking-blah. So, yes… pass.”
My eyes are closed, but I hear Lady Radcliffe step closer. It isn’t until she slams her cane to the floor twice that I snap a startled look her way. Having my full attention, a dark grin curves her lips as she bends at her waist, bringing her face uncomfortably close to mine.
“I’m sorry, my dear, but… one does not simply turn down an invitation to the Laurel Guild.”
I don’t respond as I swallow the lump in my throat.
“You’ve been asked to join them for tea in three days, and you will be in attendance.”
“I—"
“Then, Saturday evening,” she continues, ignoring me altogether, “you’ll attend a formal dinner with the alpha and all three consort elects.”
I open my mouth to protest again, but like before, she’s quicker on the draw.
“Being invited to these events is an honor, Ms. Breedlove. So, it would be wise for you to treat them as such.”
She backs away slowly, and I hate that I can feel every ounce of power that’s taken away from me. One small drop at a time. There’s always someone telling me how to dress, where to be, and how to behave. And this time, as the icing on the cake, I’m being told what an honor it has all been.
As far as I’m concerned, they can keep their big-ass dresses, their fancy parties, and every red cent they’ve shoved in my direction to make this prison sentence feel like a fantasy.
But last night made my circumstances crystal clear. My role in Cas’s life is final, because what the alpha wants, the alpha gets.
My wings are officially clipped. This beautiful cage I’m trapped inside is exactly that, and despite how I’ve fought the reality unfolding before my eyes… this place, this role, is it for me.