Chapter 16 #2
We filed into the main room and my parents led us to seats in the center, stopping every few minutes to say hello to people.
Tobin’s small hand found mine, and I gave it a surprised squeeze, keeping him close.
Us children were meant to walk a few steps behind our parents, so Tobin couldn’t reach for Creed like he usually would.
Even knowing I was probably Tobin’s last choice for comfort, I decided to enjoy this moment of sibling bonding anyway.
Verity Mae sat across the aisle with her bonded, and she wagged her fingers at me while one hand rested on her impressively large bump. I returned the wave weakly as I took my seat, not feeling much in the mood for socializing.
In fact, I found it a little unsettling how chatty everyone was being.
I’d been to memorials before—they were held for every member of the community who passed after a private funeral and rites had been conducted by the family—but they had all been for older people.
Those memorials had adult children and less bonded standing to greet us, and while it was still sad, there was a sense of peace that their loved one had returned to Anesidora’s embrace.
Today didn’t feel like that for me, and there were others who looked more somber than usual as well, but there was also a lot of mindless chatter, like this was any other agathos excuse for an event.
Joy’s four bonded made their way up the center aisle to the front row, and a few people craned their necks to see if they could spot the children in the foyer, waiting for them to make an appearance too.
Apparently their fathers weren’t going to force them on stage, and I was glad they had a little privacy in their grief.
Unsurprisingly, the Basilinna, Harmony Daubney took the stage first. Mercy had mentioned that Harmony was Joy’s aunt, and as the highest ranking agathos in the Northeast outside of the Elders, it was expected that she would make the opening remarks.
The room grew completely silent under her surveying look. I was too far back to really make out her features, other than a black suit and dark hair, but she certainly had a surprising amount of presence about her.
She exhaled, briefly switching her attention to the four tense men in the front row, before returning it back to the expectant room.
“Today is a sad day,” she began solemnly. “Today we must bid farewell to a beloved bonded, a mother, sister, daughter, granddaughter, niece, friend, and devoted member of our community, Joy Lyon.”
I discreetly rubbed at the ache in my chest, wishing more than anything that Riot was here right now, and it was his hand I was holding instead of my thoroughly unnerved baby brother’s.
“Joy was a bold soul, always willing to help almost anyone she came into contact with,” Harmony continued. “She was a dedicated mother, although Anesidora only granted her three children.”
That seemed unnecessary, I thought while everyone around me murmured sympathetically.
“Perhaps Anesidora always intended to call Joy home early. We must believe that she had a purpose, that she has a purpose for all of us—”
There was a scream of anguish from the foyer, and one of Joy’s bonded stood instantly, rushing back down the aisle to tend to their child.
My mother’s lips pursed in disapproval, and the reality of how she and most other people in this room felt made nausea churn in my gut.
I couldn’t even focus on what the Basilinna was saying because of the sickly rage that was building inside me, my monster thoroughly in control.
The gossiping agathos would walk away from here whispering behind their hands about how Joy’s children hadn’t behaved, and how her bonded hadn’t cracked down on them enough, how they hadn’t put on a brave enough face, how the Basilinna would be disappointed at the display by her own family...
It all just felt so wrong . Like we were always focusing on the wrong things. Criticizing the wrong people, and celebrating the wrong achievements.
Why hadn’t I ever noticed this before? I was frustrated with myself for not questioning things earlier. Before Riot.
The Basilinna finished her speech to delicate applause that felt entirely inappropriate for a memorial, and the stoic-looking man who’d been greeting everyone at the door took her place at the podium.
Even from where I sat, I could see how stiff he was, and my heart went out to him for having to participate in this public display of mourning when he was so obviously uncomfortable with it.
“Uh, for everyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Felix.
I am— was —Joy’s consort.” He cleared his throat and took a deep, steadying breath before continuing.
“I met Joy when we were 16. She followed the call right to my doorstep, and showed up with all her parents and siblings standing at her back.” He huffed a quiet laugh at the memory and I rubbed my aching chest again.
“It was the best and most terrifying day of my life, until the births of each of our children.”
I discreetly pulled a tissue out of my clutch and dabbed under my eyes, wincing when I touched the injured one. I could feel Mother’s stare on the side of my face, commanding me silently not to cry, but I refused to look at her. A small rebellion I would probably hear all about later.
“It seems ludicrous to stand up here and try to sum up Joy’s life in just a few minutes.
She glowed as bright as the sun when she was happy, and seemed to conjure thunder out of nowhere when she was mad.
She was quick to anger, and slow to forgive.
She loved fiercely . Joy was perfectly imperfect, and she was ours.
And we thought we had forever, until we didn’t. ”
The silence in the room was deafening. Every person in the room was listening with rapt attention to Felix’s honest, heartfelt words, and I hoped that they were as moved by them as I was, because how could they not be?
“ Anesidora, ” he began, and I bowed my head in prayer along with everyone else.
“I do not pretend I am worthy of understanding your plans, but I beg you to keep Joy safe in the afterlife. I pray that you will show us a way out of this grief. That you will guide our children on the difficult path they are walking. Láthe biōsas .”
“Láthe biōsas,” I murmured along with the rest of the room, tears streaming unchecked down my cheeks.
* * *
After Joy’s parents spoke, everyone moved back into the foyer where hot drinks and plates of food brought in by members of the community had been set up on long banquet tables against the back wall.
For once, I was glad to be treated like a child at these events. It meant I was expected to follow my parents around like a silent shadow, and I didn’t have to go make small talk with Verity Mae or Serenity, or any of the other people I’d once considered my peers.
My emotions were raw from the service, and I was worried that news had already spread about the Elders’ plans for me. The last thing I wanted to talk about was the outreach trip.
Unfortunately, it didn’t look like I was going to be so lucky on that front, as after only ten minutes milling about in the foyer—after Mother had sent me to the restroom to fix my smudged makeup—the Basilinna herself made a beeline for my family.
Mercy and I discreetly exchanged nervous looks as the Basilinna struck up a conversation with my mother, and I absently ran my hand over Tobin’s hair when he looked up at me with wide, wary eyes.
Even the five-year-old knew this was not a woman to be messed with.
“Ah, and this must be Grace.” The Basilinna’s attention turned to me, her face fixed in an unnervingly serene smile.
I did not take it as a good sign that she already knew my name.
The Basilinna for each region was chosen by the local Elders to manage the more logistical affairs of the agathos, as well as taking a leading role in administering rites during ceremonies.
She was responsible for the entire northeast . I should have been nothing to her.
“It is,” Valor confirmed, giving me a warning look that clearly said behave.
“My name is Harmony,” she said, extending her hand for me to shake. I tucked my clutch under my arm and took her hand with a nervous smile, sending a silent prayer to Anesidora that my palms weren’t sweaty, before I pulled it back as quickly as I could without seeming rude.
There was something quite unsettling about the Basilinna’s presence.
It may have been as innocent as me not seeing her at these events usually, and definitely not expecting her to know my name, but it felt like more than that.
Like my gut instinct was screaming run while I forced my feet to stay in place so I didn’t further humiliate my family with my existence.
This was the first time I’d seen her close up, and she was a lot younger than I expected.
Smaller, too. She had dark hair, agathos eyes, and faint lines around her forehead and mouth that made me think she frowned more than smiled.
All the times I’d seen her—including this one—she was wearing a pencil skirt and matching blazer which always had shoulder pads.
Maybe to make her look more intimidating?
Her four soul bonds were fanned out behind her like bodyguards.
“I had a meeting with the Elders early this morning,” Harmony said, turning to my parents to speak. “They are very excited about the possibilities for Grace in outreach. Eutychia will be a very valuable gift in… remote communities.”
The disdain in her voice was impossible to miss and I clasped my hands in front of me, digging a thumbnail into my palm to keep myself from giving away my offense.
Eutychia was a useful gift anywhere. Who didn’t need a little good luck from time to time?
“It is an incredible opportunity for Grace,” Valor replied, speaking on behalf of the family.
He inclined his head respectfully at the woman who was at least a foot and a half shorter than him.
“We have prayed for many years for Anesidora to show us Grace’s path, and we are grateful for the Elders’ guidance on this issue. ”
Issue? There had never been a more accurate descriptor for how my parents saw me. I was an issue to be solved, preferably in a way that didn’t further damage their reputations.
Chance grimaced at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“As no female agathos has ever been on an outreach trip before, there will be additional things to sort out,” Harmony said, all business. “Who she travels with, the lodging and so forth.”
“Will she be expected to… live with men ?” Mother asked, swallowing dramatically like the very idea made her ill.
If only you knew .
“Of course not,” Harmony replied, reeling back as though she were scandalized. “We would never risk any agathos woman’s reputation that way.”
And just like that, any lingering concerns my mother might have had melted away into nothing. Her whole face softened as her posture relaxed, and all four of her bonded relaxed right along with her because her tension was their tension.
It had been a long shot to hope my family would come to my rescue, but it was abundantly clear now that they wouldn’t. Not when they’d been personally assured by the Basilinna that my honor wasn’t at stake.
Just my freedom.
I waited as I was expected to while my parents sucked up to the Basilinna—hands clasped in front of me, eyes cast down, silent .
Mercy sidled closer, her arm brushing against mine in quiet support, and I appreciated her so much in that moment, knowing that she was going through a mysterious silent struggle of her own.
Harmony turned to leave, undoubtedly to do more hobnobbing at her niece’s funeral, but she paused to give me one more assessing look, her mouth downturned.
“You are in a unique position, Grace. Your journey may end up in our history books someday. I do hope you’ve been praying for Anesidora’s guidance.”
I gave her a tight smile and bobbed my head in acknowledgment.
I’d certainly prayed to someone for guidance, and I’d got a far stronger response than Anesidora had ever given me. With unease, I realized I hadn’t once prayed to Anesidora out loud since that night.
“You should leave,” Mother clipped the moment Harmony was out of earshot. “Your eye looks terrible.”
I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth by arguing, so I tipped my head silently in acknowledgment, giving Mercy’s arm a quick squeeze as I attempted to discreetly slip away.
“Oh, Grace?” Mother said quietly, wrapping her cold hand around my wrist to keep me in place as I passed and leaning in to speak directly into my ear.
“Perhaps today’s service will serve as a reminder to be grateful.
I would rather you have no soul bonds than ones who speak of you the way Joy’s bonded spoke of her. ”
Don’t say anything. Nod. Stay silent. Walk away.
But the darkness in me twisted and hissed like enraged snakes, demanding I respond. That I protest, fight back, do something .
“You would be lucky to have your bonded speak of you with as much love as Joy’s bonded spoke of her,” I whispered, tugging my wrist out of her manacled grip.
I doubted I would have been able to, had my words not taken her by surprise.
Before she could respond, I slipped into the crowd, walking out of the building as fast as I could without drawing unwanted attention to myself.
Sugar, had I really said that?
I wasn’t owed any bad luck, I had no excuses. I’d said that because I wanted to. Because the darkness in my mind had responded and I was sick of fighting it.
I’d said it because I couldn’t tell a lie.