Chapter 3 #2
Bastian was one of the cattle farmers who lived on the outskirts of town. I’d known him for years since he and his family did business with Pa’s butcher shop, but in a town this small, everyone knew everyone. He was sweet, kind, and pretty cute.
“Would you like to dance with me?”
“Sure!” I wasn’t ready to end the night, and the alcohol made me want to keep moving to the music, enhancing it in a way that I could feel the beat in my blood.
Bastian took me by the hand and led me into the crowd of dancers in the town’s square.
I placed one hand on his shoulder and the other in his palm as we started to dance.
My skirt twirled, and my hair was thrown over my shoulder with the motions.
We moved to the rhythm, spinning and swaying.
It was freeing and gratifying, like letting go of all life’s problems.
But then, the air felt uneasy and my carefree smile fell. I could feel eyes on me, and I searched for them as I was spun around and around and around. Then I saw them… Burning across the courtyard, a pair of eyes blazing into me so hotly it made my breath catch.
Daemon.
Standing with his fists balled at his sides, he tracked my movements without moving a muscle. He was pressed against the pillar of the blacksmith’s shop like it was the only thing preventing him from coming closer.
I stared right back, locking with his gaze as I was being swept across the cobblestone by another man, my eyes drifting back to him between the dancing couples.
It was a dare—a battle of who would be the first one to stop, to break the silence of unspoken words that had been building between us for years.
Every time there was a glance that held for too long, every touch that lingered—it added to the wall of unknown that separated us.
It made me fear that he kept silent for reasons I didn’t know.
Bastian spun me another time, and when I looked toward Daemon again, he was gone.
One of Nillah’s councilmen came around, pulling me out of the memory and handed everyone a folded slip of parchment with the names and a piece of charcoal.
Vosten and I exchanged a pained glance as we took our slips and charcoal.
Neither of us knew who would be on the ballot—and with everything that’d gone on in the past year, there was a possibility my name would be there.
“Maybe this town will get lucky and get rid of its trash,” a slimy voice came from up ahead.
With a shiver running down my spine, I glanced past the line of voters in front of us, up toward the voting table, already knowing who the voice belonged to.
Asher.
He was resting against the wooden table, leaning in to speak with the next voter with a big-ass grin on his face.
It was too quiet to hear the rest. Not that I had any interest in knowing what he was saying, but I became curious when he did it again with the next person.
I didn’t let my gaze linger, not wanting to make eye contact with the prick.
My hands shook as my finger rested on the edge of the paper. I feared once I flipped it over, my world would come crashing down. But the fear dissolved the second Vosten unfolded his and let out a sigh of relief, showing a hint of a smile.
Thank the hells I was safe.
It was the town council’s responsibility to determine who was up for vote, and I had never been more glad to see the three women listed.
There was Lunaris, an abusive mother who abandoned her small child in the forest because the three-year-old was born with a deformity. She had definitely earned her place on the list. Bitch deserved to die.
Then there was Felicity, the forty-year-old shoemaker who had killed her husband. I didn’t blame her. He was a mean drunk.
And Anora. She was a conniving thief, caught stealing the church’s tithe money. She had volunteered for the church and had taken so much over the years that she was able to outright buy a large house.
But I had decided who I was going to vote for the moment I had heard of her crimes, and I was glad she was on the ballot. I circled Lunaris’ name without a second thought. It was the first time I didn’t feel guilty about it. Our society didn’t need anyone like her living amongst us. Or at all.
With how eager everyone seemed to vote this year, I assumed they all chose her, too. She was the obvious choice.
I folded the piece of parchment in half just as we got closer to the front of the line. My back stiffened when I felt Asher’s eyes on me. He chuckled as I approached, and I had to swallow down the bile that rose in my throat.
“Vosten! Good to see you doing your duty. It’s the best day of the year—practically a holiday, in my opinion,” Asher’s voice grated on my ears as he stepped toward Vosten and slapped a hand on his shoulder.
If only men could be candidates…
Vosten turned his head to glare at Asher’s hand, slowly dragging his eyes to him. “Remove your hand from my body, before I remove it from yours.”
I held back a snort and fixed my eyes on the ground. Vosten didn’t hate him like I did, but he didn’t particularly like him either.
Asher’s hand dropped to his side with a smirk on his face and a glint in his shit-brown eyes. Fitting for what an ass he’d turned out to be.
He was crude, conniving, and just an overall bastard who weaseled his way into getting what he wanted.
I swore it was his life’s mission to make mine miserable.
Even though he was two years younger than his brother, he was constantly following Daemon and Vosten around like a pathetic child insisting to be included because he had no friends of his own—and for good reason. He was a sleaze.
“Vhae,” his eyes slid to me. “Good to see you on such a fine day.”
“Fuck off, Asher. Don’t you have taxes to collect from the poor or whatever it is you enjoy?” I seethed, glaring.
“Funny,” he deadpanned. “And not for a bit, so I thought I’d come hang out here!”
“What do you want?” I clipped, returning my attention to the line—and thank the hells we were next.
He deflected my question with his own, “Who are you voting for?”
“The best thing about anonymous voting is I don’t have to divulge that information,” I responded flatly and moved up the line. I already had my parchment folded in my hand.
“Yes, of course.” He was silent for a moment. “Don’t you want to know who I’m voting for?”
“I’d like to say ‘yourself,’ since I’m certain you must be a woman with your lack of balls. But otherwise, I really don’t care.” I shrugged, still refusing to look at him.
“Name,” Evangelo—one of the councilmen—requested, sitting at the table with the ballot box. He was glancing down at the list of names of the townspeople, marking them off as we cast our vote.
“Vosten Scoren,” my brother said, taking a step forward and putting his slip through the hole in the box. He moved to the side to wait for me.
“Thank you,” Evangelo drawled, not even looking up. “Name.”
I stepped forward and was blessedly relieved of Asher’s proximity when he finally walked away. “Vhaena Scoren.”
Evangelo’s eyes flicked up to me just as I dropped my vote in. He didn’t say anything, only tracked me with his narrowed gaze as I stepped aside. I was used to the stares, but his made me feel particularly uncomfortable, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Vosten put his arm around my shoulders, glaring back behind me as he guided me away.