Chapter 46 Vows and Codes
Chapter forty-six
Vows and Codes
Clover Hollow, Soren’s matching day
Soren stood with his family in the social hall beside the chapel, wearing his best black suit, hair precisely gelled.
“She looks like a lumberjack.” Gabriella folded her arms, tossed her hair, and looked down her nose at the match.
The woman’s dark-blonde curls coiled at her neck, which, combined with her sturdy build, suggested a female Nathan. What a coincidence … or was it?
“She’s a basketball player,” Soren answered, “and a psychology major at The Institute. Quite brilliant, I’m told.” He fidgeted, shuffling his highly polished shoes.
“The Oracle matched them, Gabriella,” their mother explained, fingering her daughter’s dark brown hair. Nadia glowed brighter than Soren could ever recall, clearly overjoyed at his marriage. “That means she’s the perfect bride for your brother—even if you don’t see it.”
Soren’s throat and chest tightened. He felt overwhelmed and wanted to bolt.
I should have gone with Nathan. Whether fear or ambition had rooted him here, he wasn’t certain.
Too late now. In a few minutes, they would be called into the chapel where the joining ceremonies were taking place, and then he’d be married.
To a woman. That woman. He recalled seeing her in the cafeteria, but they attended different academies and focused on disparate fields at The Institute.
Her hobby was sports, his, art. Could the Oracle have made a mistake?
“Yeah, well,” Gabriella muttered, her frown deepening. “What’s her name?”
“Krystal Smith,” Soren answered. “Krystal with a ‘K’.” They’d officially met for the first time yesterday, right after the matches were announced.
She struck him as confident, ready to take on the world.
He’d been terrified. What kind of performance will she expect from me in the bedroom? Children are required, but …
“Go on, son,” his father prodded, nudging his shoulder. “Go speak to her. Let her know how happy you are that the Oracle matched you. Her family name might not carry the clout yours does, but I checked her out. She’s an extraordinary young woman.”
Bat wings flapped in Soren’s stomach. He reached up to smooth his already perfect hair. “OK.” He knew it was the polite thing to do. Slowly, he forced one foot in front of the other.
Blue balloons and white trilliums brightened the hall; banners read: “Unity Is Strength,” “Pure Body, Pure Mind,” “Together as One.” Tables laden with refreshments—lemonade, tea, punch, nuts, and cookies—stood in the center for all to enjoy.
Other families laughed, chatted, happy smiles all around.
Cheery background music played softly through the speakers.
As Soren slogged past them, he couldn’t help but picture Nathan instead of the tall woman in the white dress standing across from him, waiting, smiling, wanting him.
If only the law were different, if there might be exceptions.
But Nathan was gone. He had run rather than conform to Appalachian tradition.
At least I’m patriotic, he told himself.
I stayed to do my part while he took the easy road.
“Hi,” Soren said, stopping in front of Krystal. She was a little taller than he, not as tall as Nathan. Her eyes weren’t his multicolored green and brown, but a rich walnut, sharp, hinting of vast knowledge. She seemed to study him like the subject of an experiment, making him feel self-conscious.
“Hi,” she answered. “Nervous?”
“A little,” he lied. Petrified fit better.
Krystal moved closer, took his hand, and steered them away from her family to an empty corner, ratcheting up Soren’s discomfort. What was she going to do? He got the impression she could physically injure him if she so desired.
“Look, let’s get a few things out of the way,” she said in a low, take-charge tone. “You’re destined to sit on the College of Ministers. I’ll make sure that happens. When you rise, I rise. Any questions?”
She looked like a hawk eyeing a mouse, and he was the mouse. Soren stood quivering for a moment, not sure what he should say or do. After an eternal second, he asked, “Can you cook?”
Krystal’s lips quirked, a gleam shimmering on her angular face. She arched a brow. “Can fish swim?”
A nervous laugh escaped Soren’s lips. At least she has a sense of humor.
“I understand you’re an artist,” Krystal commented, taking his arm, veering them back toward her family.
“I draw and paint,” he answered, “but I’m a computer scientist—data harmonization and programming, like my father. And you play basketball?”
She bumped his hip with hers and smirked. “You know I do. Hey, no expectations tonight, OK? We have time to work things out. But after today, our futures will be entwined for a long time. I say we make the best of it.”
Hearing her say that lifted a weight from Soren’s chest, and he smiled for the first time since entering the hall. “That sounds like a plan.”
In the Unity House chapel, First Shepherd Severin Dray officiated their service and a dozen others.
His robes were snowy white, braided golden cord in place of the usual fog gray.
A pendant of the all-seeing eye in a pyramid hung around his neck by a silver chain.
Dray might look ordinary—middle-aged, balding, slight-framed, long nose—but his voice held power and authority.
He led Soren and Krystal in their vows, which included treating each other with respect, financial and intellectual partnership, and staying together at least until two children had been born—preferably raised. Both understood these were unbreakable vows.
“You will grow to love one another as life-partners and helpmeets,” Dray said. “Two flames burn brighter than one, and bound hands cannot be broken. The Oracle chose you for each other. You arrived as two; now, depart as one, for the Oracle knows best.”
Music played, witnesses cheered. In keeping with tradition, she kissed him on the lips. Krystal’s hand closed around his with a pressure that steadied him—firm, warm, deliberately grounding. “Smile,” she hissed between gleaming teeth, then led them down the aisle.
The two fathers met the couple at the chapel door, giving them each congratulatory hugs. “What a blessed day!” Adélard Delacroix also embraced Krystal and shook her father’s hand. “They make a fine couple, don’t you agree?”
Mr. Smith rubbed a knuckle under his eye as joy radiated from his face.
“I’m so proud to be joined to your family through the marriage of my daughter, and relieved.
She could have ended up with a ruffian or a drunkard, bound to a disreputable name.
Thank the Oracle for this blessing. A fine couple indeed. ”
When Adélard slapped his hand on Soren’s shoulder, he felt his father’s pride surge through the contact, encouraging him that all would be well.
“Now, son, off to your honeymoon. First, a cruise up New River to Bluestone Lake, then two nights in a cabin all to yourselves. And no studying—there’ll be time for schoolwork when you return. ”
“I’ve heard the restaurants in Hinton are top-notch,” Mr. Smith commented. Soren didn’t know. The only times he’d ever left Clover Hollow were when his father had taken the family with him on a government trip to Parkersburg, and when he’d spent the summer in Harmony Ridge.
Instantly, his thoughts flicked to Nathan.
He pictured his smiling face, his muscular chest and shoulders, his magic touch.
Then he glanced at Krystal. I’m married to her now and will probably never see Nathan Frye again.
There’s no point in thinking about him. This is the life I chose.
Like Krystal said, let’s make the best of it.
Attendants tossed birdseed and clanged bells as Soren and his Amazonian bride descended the steps and boarded a trolley for the docks.
Their fathers loaded their luggage. Their mothers huddled shoulder to shoulder, crying and waving handkerchiefs at them.
Birds swooped for the seed as the car jolted, squeaky wheels rumbling on the track.
Adélard sent his wife and daughter on their way, assuring them Soren would be very happy, and returned to Core Mountain.
Today was an important one for more reasons than one.
He strode through the entry to Unity Hall, smiled and greeted the administrators, making his way directly into the Core lab.
Fans whirred, motors hummed, keyboards clacked.
Cameras recorded every step through the sterile concrete and steel facility; a faint ozone-metal tang lingered in the static-clean air.
A smile warmed him from the inside out as he gazed through the glass wall at the glowing Core itself.
Stepping into the elevator, Adélard inserted his key, pushed the button for the first floor—restricted.
Steel doors closed, and down he went. He hoped Soren would be happy with Krystal, but it mattered little in the grand scheme of things.
Having a brilliant scientist for a son, someone he could pass his legacy to, was of far more value.
Exiting the elevator, a short Asian woman wearing a white lab coat, tablet in hand, met him.
“Everything is ready for you to begin coding, Minister Delacroix. Isn’t this exciting?
” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, offering a nervous, eager smile.
“The engineers can’t wait to see how you bring their designs to life. ”