Chapter 11 The Acolyte
The Acolyte
Istrode through the manor, head down and silent.
The duty of a maid in Lord d’Refan’s home was to be relatively unseen and absolutely unheard.
Both were easy enough to accomplish; my appearance made it easy for others to overlook me, and my natural disposition was to err on the side of silence.
The anonymity also allowed me to carry out my other duties—my true calling and meaning in life—without exposing my true loyalties.
Though that was growing more dangerous by the day, especially in this house of vipers. The servants were always suspicious of others, especially newcomers—even more so of those of us who accompanied Ellowyn d’Aelius from Hestin.
Hopefully, after today, their suspicion would die down again, and I could move more freely about the manor and Vespera.
I climbed the wooden staircases that were hidden within the walls of the manor, made exclusively for maids and butlers to traverse without climbing the main staircase.
When the lord was home, we were careful to always use our hidden entrances and staircases, though when he was out and the General was in, we were a bit more lax.
The absence of the General the last few weeks put Lord d’Refan on constant edge, and I worried what a further prolongated absence would do.
Though there was a large chance I wouldn’t be here to see that devolution.
If I was successful today, that was.
I must be; there is no room for error.
My feet carried me to the top of the staircase, a false wall blocking my way further.
I rapped against the thin wood once and heard the muffled “come in, Pip” of Ellowyn d’Aelius.
Her voice was tired and resigned, absent of her previous angst and turmoil, but also without a trace of happiness.
A few months ago, Lord d’Refan moved Ellowyn and me from Hestin to his manor in Vespera.
Leaving her childhood home—the one tie she still had to her family—sent Ellowyn into a tailspin of grief that felt never-ending.
Long were the nights when I cradled her head against my chest and soothed her as sobs wracked her thin frame before she finally fell into exhausted and haunted slumber.
She was better in the daylight, her tears saved for the privacy of the dark, but she was still mentally absent, clinging to the vestiges of a life that she would never again possess.
Ellowyn lost considerable weight during those months, her String of Fate thinning until it was nearly translucent. The potential loss of one of his chosen Children sent Fate into a panic and spurred me to take action.
After all, I was loyal to Fate above all else, no matter how much Ellowyn loved me.
I’d planted the seeds of action for months, gently prodding and cultivating them without Ellowyn noticing, and today was the final push.
Today, she would marry Lord d’Refan, no matter her personal feelings.
I stepped into the room and tried to keep the smug smile off my face—I’d pushed her away from the edge, I’d forced her to find anger rather than apathy, and I would be rewarded for my efforts.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Pip,” Ellowyn whispered brokenly, the fingers on her right hand tightening around the band on her left wrist. She pulled it up and down her arm in a habit she’d adopted whenever she became emotionally overwhelmed.
The movement was annoying, but at least she wasn’t spiraling again.
I forced down the urgency and ire I felt burning in the back of my throat.
She’s already agreed to marry him. If she backs out now, everything will be for naught; all of Fate’s plans will be ruined, and Elyria will fall.
“Miss, I thought we’d had this discussion already?” I tried to keep my voice meek and my question light, bowing my head in deference as I curtsied, but a bit of bite accidentally slipped through.
My heart thundered as I waited for the quizzical furrow of Ellowyn’s brow, but luckily, she was absorbed in her own thoughts.
“He killed my parents, Pip,” she mumbled as she paced the expansive bedroom, her bare feet making little noise against the stone.
I rolled my lips, desperately trying to swallow my harsh words.
“And forced me to kill Finian. Sentenced Peytor to an almost assured death in the mines. Chased away the suitors at my Awakening. And those are just his slights against my family. What about the other crimes he’s committed?
What about when he nearly eradicated the Keepers?
He killed innocents, Pip. I can’t marry him.
” Her voice was nearly hysterical at the end of her tirade, eyes wild as she sank to her knees.
Fate give me strength, I prayed silently with an internal roll of my eyes.
“Ellowyn,” I barked, and her head shot up, wide grey eyes tangling with my own. “We’ve had this same discussion hundreds of times.”
She nodded, her blonde hair coming loose from behind her ears with the movement.
“If Peytor was in your position, what would he do?” I asked, softer this time, my persona as a meek, inexperienced maid resurfacing.
Ellowyn chewed her lip in thought, her thin fingers tracing her bracelets again.
“What would he do, Ellowyn?” I prodded, and she sighed deeply.
“Whatever was necessary,” she whispered.
I nodded my head as I knelt in front of her, grasping her hands in mine.
“Whatever was necessary,” I repeated, squeezing her palms. “If you were sentenced to the mines and Peytor was here, would he leave you to your fate?”
She shook her head, eyes welling with tears. “No.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” I agreed.
“But I’m not Peytor,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m not strong or smart. I can’t make decisions for myself that don’t harm other people. I don’t even know how to help him. Or anyone else. I’m just a girl—a silly girl who is stuck in a game that is so beyond my comprehension.”
I squeezed her hands again.
Finally. An opportunity.
“You are not weak, Ellowyn.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I shook my head. “You are just inexperienced. Beneath it all, you have a strength that is unmatched—why else would Fate have blessed you with two powers?”
“I don’t even know how to use them.”
I pursed my lips and reigned in my agitation.
“Then you learn. You are set to marry the Lord of Vespera. Do you think he wouldn’t give you access to the Academy if you demanded it?”
Ellowyn chewed her lip and shrugged her shoulders.
“Are you going to continue whining, or are you going to grow up and figure out a way to actually help?”
She bristled at my comment, but I continued.
“You talk about wanting to help people, about wanting to do good. But all I’ve seen is you lamenting your situation.
There are people who would kill to be given the opportunity you have right now—to become the Lady of Vespera and have the opportunity to change Elyria for the better.
Which are you, Ellowyn? Are you going to seize this opportunity, or are you truly just a girl with a pretty face? ”
Ellowyn was silent for a long moment, and I feared I had pushed too far.
Fate will not be happy with me.
“I hate him, Pip. I hate him so much,” Ellowyn admitted finally, but the self-pity was absent from her voice, replaced with a fire I’d not yet seen from her.
Finally.
“Then use that, Ellowyn. Use that hate to find a way to do some good here. To fix what is broken. By any means necessary.”
She withdrew her hands from mine before swiping at the lingering tears beneath her eyes. Slowly, Ellowyn rose from the floor and donned the mask her mother forced upon her in Hestin.
“Fine,” she bit out. “Ready me for my wedding.”
The atmosphere changed with her words—it felt less like a funeral and more like she was preparing for battle.
I crossed the room and opened the large, dark wood armoire before selecting the white gown hiding in the back.
Like her Awakening dress, it was tailored to fit Ellowyn like a glove.
Unlike the monstrosity her mother fashioned for her ceremony, Ellowyn’s wedding dress was soft and slender, hugging each of her curves; the neckline was low but not obscene, and exposed the top part of her breasts while the sleeves were long and extended far past her hands.
There was no corset to be found, just miles of soft, white silk.
Ellowyn stood stoically in the middle of the room, refusing to look at herself in the mirror as I quickly dressed her before securing her miles of white-blonde hair into a bun at the nape of her neck.
“By any means necessary,” she whispered to herself as I applied the last touches of makeup to her face, finishing minutes before a knock sounded on her door.
“By any means necessary,” I repeated.
“Will you be waiting? When I return?” Ellowyn asked, her voice carefully devoid of emotion, though the slight caress of her bracelet gave away her feelings.
I placed one of my palms over her fingers and squeezed silently, but didn’t answer her.
The second rap on her door was louder, more insistent, and she shot me a small smile before steeling herself.
The mask her mother enforced on her in Hestin was well in place before she strode to the door and opened it.
“I’m ready,” she told the Mage guard on the other side. He escorted her out and closed the door without a glance inside.
My chest heaved and my hands shook as I quickly left the way I came.
“My purpose is fulfilled. May Fate guide and keep you,” I mumbled the calling card of Fate’s acolytes to an empty room, my feet carrying me to Fate’s temple as I shed the skin of Pip, ready for my next assignment.