Delilah #2
High Lord Gentry holds his hands up to silence the cacophony before continuing with his speech.
“Gabriel has proven himself to be an indispensable member of the Brotherhood here in the Northwest, and we couldn’t be more excited to see what his future holds.
” The middle-aged man raises his glass in the air, and the other men follow suit. “To Gabriel!”
“To Gabriel!” they echo.
And then, in unison, they recite one of their sacred tenets. “Brotherhood above all.”
Conversations pick up again as many people continue to congratulate Gabriel and offer him their thanks, while the women take that as our cue to retire to the secondary drawing room so the men can continue their celebration.
Sister Thomas loops her arm through mine as we make our way across the house, and while I’m grateful for her company, I would rather be alone in my room than endure the trivial gossip that always accompanies these types of events.
I take a seat on the uncomfortable yet undoubtedly expensive couch near the window, thanking the maid as she hands me a teacup and saucer.
I sip the steaming chamomile, hoping to enjoy a moment of peace, but it doesn’t take long for the other wives to flock to me, offering their own congratulations.
While I have no claim to Gabriel’s success, we all know how important this is for the Northwest as a whole.
I smile and nod my thanks before I notice her approaching me.
I grit my teeth in an effort to keep the smile on my face, but it’s futile.
She always seems to bring out the worst in me.
Sister Robert sits across from me in a wingback chair, crossing her legs as her keen eyes search for a way to get under my skin. “Gabriel’s achievement is notable. You must feel very proud.”
I lift my chin and offer a tight-lipped smile. “Of course I am.”
She examines her manicured fingernails with an air of indifference. “I’m surprised he pulled it off, honestly, what with the Rebels threatening the peace.”
Another wife hisses a warning at her friend. “Sister, don’t.”
I fail to hide my confusion, which makes the vile woman smirk. “The Resistance is nothing more than a disgusting rumor, created to instill fear among the loyal members of the Brotherhood.” It’s easy to parrot what Gabriel told me about the so-called rebels, since I don’t know anything else.
Sister Robert throws her head back and laughs, and it sounds like the laugh of an evil queen from the princess movies I remember from my childhood. “You’re even more naive than I thought.”
I scowl at her, setting my saucer down on the table between us. “It’s not naive to believe what my husband says. I would never question the strength of the Brotherhood.”
Her smirk falters, knowing that I’ve basically just accused her of treason.
“Nor is it naive to understand that there is a whole other world out there beyond these borders.” She stands, towering over me and forcing me to lift my head to keep eye contact.
“The Rebels are real. Anyone who says otherwise is living in a fantasy world.”
Before I can respond, she turns on her heel and stalks out of the room with her friend close behind.
Hushed conversations erupt among the wives, like a hungry pack of hyenas attacking an abandoned carcass.
I lean back, thinking through Sister Robert’s outburst. She’s always been bold, always known how to push my buttons, but she’s never spoken so seditiously.
If anyone reported her behavior, her punishment would be severe.
Sister Thomas sits next to me and bumps my shoulder with hers, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”
I smile weakly. “Fine. You know her, always a bother.”
My friend bites her lip, dropping her voice to a whisper. “What if she’s right?”
My mouth pops open and I whisper back, “Sister!”
“We’ve all heard the rumors. And—” she cuts herself off, hesitating.
My curiosity gets the better of me. “What?”
She scoots closer to me, keeping her voice low. “I overheard Thomas talking about it the other day. The lords are worried.”
My eyes widen. “Worried about what?”
“Apparently, the rebels have set up camp on the abandoned islands off the coast, but they keep hopping around, which makes it hard for us to track them. But their numbers are growing, and there’s even been talk of spies within our ranks.”
I shake my head, refusing to let mere rumors worry me. “Sounds like a load of rubbish to me.”
Sister Thomas smiles, but there’s a sadness behind her eyes that I can’t decipher. “You’re probably right.” She stands, placing a hand on her rounded abdomen. “You’ll forgive me if I leave early? I’m afraid I’m feeling rather tired.”
I stand and hug her, ignoring the strange sensation in my gut. “Of course, sister. Get some rest.”
I watch her retreating form before excusing myself, knowing I won’t be missed. Sister Robert gave the wives plenty to discuss, and the lords will be up late into the night smoking cigars and talking business.
I make my way up to my room, stripping quickly out of the formal attire and getting in the shower. The hot water washes away the stress of the day—as it always does—but even as I dress in my nightgown and get into bed, I can’t stop thinking about what both sisters said.
If the Rebels are real, who are they, and what do they want?