Midnight's Song (32 page)

“Oh my –” I muttered, beginning to
feel a sickness in the pit of my stomach.

“Oh…” Winston darkly muttered when he
turned to see what had startled me so. He stepped in close to me
and protectively turned me away from the gruesome picture. “That’s
a painting of one of the executions after the Great War…it’s
nothing anyone is fond over.”

Winston’s words
struck me as avoidant over anything else. That was always how the
wealthy approached the dark parts of history in our world. It never
touched them, so they felt it best to pretend it never happened.
Being from the background that I was, looking at the pictures had
an obviously different effect on me. In the detail of every
gruesome face, I didn’t see a rebel
.
I saw the bloody image of
myself.
A sickening
feeling overcame me. Not much later, I jumped back in shock at the
feeling of someone grabbing my arm.

“The Magistrate has
summoned you!” An intimidating guard declared.

I wanted to escape at that moment, to
get out of here as fast as I could. But, there was no time. The man
and a few others immediately rushed me into the hall. The man took
me down the spiraling hallways for what felt like at least a mile,
Wren and Winston following as closely behind as they could while
the man yanked me forth in a rush. When we came before a set of
heavy wooden doors the man forced me to come to an abrupt
stop.

“He’s in there.” The man
motioned toward the door as if to say I needed to push it open. My
mind was in a frantic rush, so I put my arms forth and nearly did –
but he quickly pulled me back and stopped me. “Not yet! You must
wait to be called in and introduced!”

When he halted me I was already
trembling again. I tilted my head to see both Wren and Winston
standing behind me completely holding their breath. The burly man
ushered me to take a seat beside the door, having to sit me down
himself because I was presently as blank and motionless as a doll.
My mind went completely blank, and the entire room could
tell.

“Celeste, darling,” Wren anxiously
attempted to reassure me. “Please calm down.”

Though, it didn’t do much good. I
didn’t have time to answer, because in that moment the door swung
open. The doorman motioned for me to enter. It was clear that if I
wasn’t ready now, it didn’t matter anymore. The Magistrate was
sitting less than 100 feet from me.

“You may enter,” the
muscular doorman told me in a deep, authoritative voice. I meekly
but obediently entered the room, my aunt and Winston following
carefully behind me. “Announcing the arrival of Celeste Devereaux,
ward of the 3
^rd
caste!”

In unison with his words, the heavy
door swung shut. In that small time frame, my instincts kicked in
and I miraculously remembered to display all that I had been
taught. The room was silent and so was I.

My head remained bowed, hanging low in
respect. At the same time, my back remained straight and poised.
Every step was a not a step, but instead a shuffle. The entire
time, I didn’t dare look up. Only by the looking at the pattern on
the carpet could I tell when I was to stop in place. Soon I saw the
outline of my ruler’s feet, and I did as I knew was custom and
knelt before the throne.

Although I was carrying out these acts
as flawlessly as a well-rehearsed play – my soul was screaming. It
could sense something dark and evil about this room. My spirit
could feel it and it wanted to flee. Before it could, the man spoke
up.

“
Celeste Devereaux,
” he began. “State
your business with my court.”

“Your Highness, I come to
you as a messenger from my family to ask your continued blessings
on our estate,” I cordially expressed, word-for-word as I had been
rehearsing. I kept my head low as I had been told to do. Every part
of me was expecting that he would soon give me some message of
approval, yet instead he remained silent to allow my heart a few
moments of fear before speaking again.

“And your family has
refined you for presentation in order to please me?” He quizzed.
That was when I began to choke from within. “Miss Devereaux, I know
a great deal of your family. Where is your grandmother, the
matriarch?”

For a few seconds I forgot
how to breathe. The Magistrate was speaking to me, and I could
sense no amount of goodness or kindness in his tone. I had to close
my eyes and force out my words.

“She is ill, O Respectable
Magistrate,” I spoke up softly, making sure to say my words in the
court dialect. “The Lady Abilene Devereaux is presently confined to
the bed.”

“I see,” the Magistrate replied,
sounding completely unsurprised.

He then gave the command for Wren and
Winston to stand up, but ordered that I remain kneeling. Still
looking at the bottoms of his feet, I could see the man rise from
his throne and move toward me. Before I could even recollect what
was going on, he came and stood in front of me.

“You may raise your
head.”

Even though I could hardly
find the strength, I did it. When I looked up I saw a man that
looked far more human than the one I’d plastered in the pictures
that hung all over the country. The man in the pictures I’d always
seen looked 20 years younger than this one. I eased back just a
little bit, temporarily fooled by his docile appearance into
thinking that he wasn’t capable of hurting me. Within a few
seconds, the man stood up from his throne and walked toward me to
give a full examination.

“You are unblemished from what I can
see,” he arrogantly remarked. “And you appear to have been
well-refined…” He trailed off for a moment. “Winston Everen, she is
a friend or yours, yes?”

He said it without
revealing much, and I could sense that meant that he was hiding
something. I knew that the Magistrate wasn’t really concerned about
whether or not I was Winston’s friend. He didn’t care about the
months I’d spent in preparation for this, nor did he care about the
request for approval that had come with me. No, he didn’t care one
bit! He was only trying to cover the fact that he knew something
about me that went deeper. It was something deep and dangerous, and
he intended to reveal his knowledge of it
only
to me.

“Yes, O Great Magistrate.” Winston
respectfully replied.

The man suddenly took his hand and
grabbed my face. He acted as if he was giving me some medical
examination, tilting my head this way and that way and apparently
getting a look of what he obviously already knew was a human
face.

“You’ve done well,” was the next and
only thing he said before dismissing them. “You may go.”

We all rose in place, falling back in
relief over the fact that the Magistrate hadn’t made anyone here
into a disgrace. Wren and Winston respectfully bowed and turned
around as the doorman opened the entryway for them. I began to
shift my knees so that I might stand up, but before I could the
Magistrate stopped me.

“
You
may not leave yet,” he suddenly
spoke up. “Winston Everen and Wren Devereaux, you may go. But the
girl must stay here with me for a while longer. I wish to speak to
her alone.”

I dared to look over for a
second – just a second – so that I could see what Wren and Winston
were doing. Their faces read absolute bewilderment. Then – as if by
instinct – every servant in the room abruptly left the area in an
animal-like herd with them. After they were gone, the doorman
secured the pathway so that we were both alone.

The next thing I knew, the ruler
snapped.

As if he were truly
possessed, his personality shifted from regal to terrifying. The
man took his hands and violently forced my face toward him. Now
that they were gone, he could be all that he truly was. He could
have shown them all, but he waited. The Curse thought that
revealing himself this way would be much greater fun.

“I know more of you
than you believe,” he snared. “
Elissa
McClellan!”

He thrashed my neck so
violently that it might have broken if the blow had been any
harder. He came in closer to me, piercing me with a hateful glare
before throwing me onto the ground. I was left without words now,
my mind unable to fathom what was going on or why it was
happening.

“W-what?” I
stammered.

“Silence! You foolish girl – I am your
king! Don’t speak out of turn!”

He began pacing now, his
personality clearly having changed to that of someone else. He
continued to glare at me while I sat with my head nearly prostrate
on the ground. I tried to pick myself up, and the moment I turned
my head upward I could witness the hatred leeching out of his
eyes.

“Why should you be
so surprised?” The Magistrate sneered, asserting himself as if he
needed to establish power over me
.
“I am the Magistrate! Do you think I am that
stupid? I know all things. I know who you are, Elissa. You are a
10
^th
caste. You are a child of mixed lineage – a child of
rebellious parents! You’ve attempted to change the way our world
works. I don’t
like
change.”

He lurched toward me as if
about to kick. I closed my eyes in anticipation for physical pain,
but none came. Instead, the ruler laughed. Then, he patronizingly
inched in toward my face. Now it was clear to me that this man had
a screw loose. Everything about him screamed that he was mentally
unwell, giving me no comfort over the fact that I also knew he had
the power to kill me. The ruler’s eyes met mine in a sickening
stare.

“You rebelled
against the laws that I’ve made to protect
you, Elissa. I gave you the choice, but you wouldn’t decide.
You violated my law, but you’re not casteless. Why is that? Give me
a good reason.”

I knew it was rhetorical,
but I felt a sudden anger begin bubbling up from within that caused
me to give him an answer. His words were intended to belittle me
and to destroy me, but they only caused me to seethe. I felt a
surge of bravery travel through me. It caused me to open my mouth
and say something I knew I’d regret:

“
Because I am not yours
.”

“What did you just say?” The
Magistrate suddenly posed. He pried for an answer, but the only
thing he got in response was a glare. For a few moments he waited
impatiently, but I wouldn’t budge. Then he snapped once again.
“Tell me what you just said!”

This time I stood up, feeling even
bolder. I said it one more time:

“
I’m not
yours
.”

“That’s what I thought you
said,” he angrily murmured. He came back and kicked me to the
ground again. “Be stubborn, Elissa. It will only hurt the ones that
you love most! I have power over everyone, and you aren’t
excluded.”

“You have no power over
me,” I told him again, undefeated. Only God did.

“You are nothing,
Elissa McClellan. You were born a 10, and you were born to law
breakers.” There was a momentary pause. He paced again, his only
feelings those of authority and spite. “…You know we are not fond
of Jezebels in this court. Your mother was a traitor! She ran off
with someone poisonous and accepted the consequences. She was a
Jezebel – just as you are! Dignified as you may seem, in my eyes
you are no better than a
prostitute.
”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh, be quiet!” The man interjected.
“You naïve little thing! I’ve killed hundreds like you. Their
families went with them. You’re a small thing,” he seized my arm
and yanked me upwards to demonstrate my lack of physical prowess.
“It wouldn’t take much to kill you – but I won’t. You’re far too
important a piece in my game to do that. At least…not yet. You see,
I didn’t call you here to give you my approval. You will do all
that I say, suffer all that I command you suffer!”

“That’s the only reason why you
brought me here?” I boiled. “To tell me that I am powerless against
you?”

“Everyone needs to be
reminded of my power,” he snarled again. “I also wanted to inform
you of something very important. I am aware that your grandmother
is ill. The old pass, and when they do a young one must take their
place. She will pass soon – but you will not take her place.
Instead, Beeti will.”

“
Beeti?”

“Yes, Beeti will inherit the Devereaux
Estate. Beeti is deserving– she’s always been the one I intended to
allow the family title to fall on. She is a loyal, well regarded
citizen of mine.” He smirked. “I think you’ll find that I mingle
with her more often than you know.”

A chill went through me. I knew what
this meant. Beeti was his eyes and ears. That was how he was going
to continue watching me. I thought back to last night, snooping
through my belongings. It caused my skin to go pale.

“Though, this is a
much larger matter than who-gets-what. You are not worthy of being
an heir. When your grandmother dies, you will not take the fortune.
And I don’t care who is next in line, even if Beeti is stricken
dead you will not be allowed to take it! You simply will
not.
”