Elected (The Elected Series Book 1) (4 page)

“Don’t move,” I say. “If you do, I’ll advance. And show me your hands!”

“I’m not moving!” He raises both hands in the air, palms open so I can see they’re empty. I want to trust this boy. I don’t want to have to harm him with my knife. But it isn’t until I see one of my pet parrots fly off the boy’s shoulder and onto mine that I realize I know him.

I’ve never spent more than a second up close to the bird keeper, but over the years I’ve made a personal pastime of watching him from afar. The boy’s name is Griffin. He’s the son of my father’s veterinarian. Griffin is the apprentice, administering to the smaller animals around our house. He’s fixed the wing of my parrot before.

I step back but don’t lower the knife.

“What are you doing in here?” My voice is gruff. I might know this boy, but he could still be here to do harm.

“I didn’t know you were in here. If I’d known, obviously, I wouldn’t have come in to look after your birds.”

The parrot gives another shrill squawk. I study the boy for a moment. Close to me now, for only the second time in my life, I stare at him openly. The dark hair I’ve seen from afar falls forward over his brow but ends in sharp points around the sides of his ears, like he’s cut it himself without a mirror. His eyes are a deep amber too. Like fresh gingerbread cookies straight out of the oven, glowing and bright. He’s lean but relatively tall.

The one thing I know about him for sure is his gait. Since before I can remember, Griffin was the only male my age allowed into our house. He followed his father around, watching him work and then taking over some of the veterinary duties himself. I made an art of subtly watching Griffin to learn how a male my age moved and talked. It was one thing studying the masculine characteristics of my father, but it was altogether another to study someone my own age.

And then there’s the one time I did see Griffin up close, just for a brief second when I was thirteen, but the memory stayed with me for years.

I realize we’re staring each other down.

“Well, are you going to lower the knife, or do I have to knock it from your hand?”

“You wouldn’t!” I’m disturbed he dares speak so brashly to me. My eyes squint into lines. “If you come one step closer, I swear I’ll use this. What are you doing in here anyway?” My voice is rough from sleep, and I make no attempt to soften it. I want to appear hard right now—fearsome. Yet, Griffin doesn’t seem to fear me at all. In fact, he’s impertinent. It’s not something I’ve dealt with much in my seventeen years.

“I didn’t know you were in here. No one did, or they would have stopped me. You’re supposed to be in training right now, like your usual schedule.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.” I practically spit the words at him. “What do you know of my usual schedule?”

“You’re not in your bedroom by mid-morning. That’s when I come in to feed your birds.”

I never thought who fed them each day. Knowing Griffin’s been in my room daily gives me a strange shiver up the back of my legs. I feel a sheen of cold perspiration erupt on the back of my neck.

“Well, I’m in here now, so you shouldn’t be.”

“How come you’re in your room anyway?”

“Not your concern,” I say.

Griffin flicks a strand of unruly hair off his forehead and takes a step away from me to the right. He’s getting altogether too casual.

“Get out!” I say again.

He ignores me. “May not be my concern, but your birds seem to care. No one’s fed them yet today. They’re hungry.”

I watch as he dares to move from his spot by the window and walk over to my parrots’ cage. He reaches in and softly smooths down the bird’s back feathers. I see my parrot arch its back under Griffin’s touch and bob its head in approval.

“Fine.” I take a deep breath. “You can feed them and then leave.”

Griffin scoops a handful of seeds out of his pants pocket and deposits it on the floor of the cage.

“Sleeping in?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I mumble. I realize the hand holding the knife has fallen to my side, no longer on the offensive.

“I didn’t realize you were allowed to do that.”

Something in the way he says “allowed” irks me. I sneer back at Griffin. “Well, I guess my schedule is allowed to be modified if there’s just been an attempted assassination against me.”

Immediately, I know I’ve said too much. In the second he’s looking at me, I see his eyes flash. But then Griffin’s face points away from me again, shielded by the birdcage.

“Oh,” he says, trying to act more casual with his voice than his eyes would convey. “Well, looks like they missed.”

“Looks like.” I saunter across my room to my writing desk, set the knife down with a
thunk
, and spin onto the chair so I’m still looking at him. “Aren’t you done yet?”

“Just about.” The coldness of his voice startles me. I’m used to everyone being overly nice to me, if not at the very least polite. Griffin’s conversation leaves me feeling unnerved.

He brushes his hands against each other, letting a few leftover seeds fall to the floor. “Done.” He starts to walk away from me toward the door, but halfway there he stops, his back still facing me. “You watch me.”

It isn’t a question. More of an accusation.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes.” He pauses. “You do. Have for years.”

My eyes are wide. How has he seen me watching him? Has he been watching me in return? This thought unsettles me in ways I don’t fully understand.

So who cares? So he’s seen me staring at him. Why should it make a difference to me? But I can’t fool myself. I do care. If he’s seen me when I don’t know it, what else has he seen me do? Have I done something genuinely feminine in front of him that he’s guessed my secret?

As if he can read my thoughts, Griffin says, “I know what you are.”

And before I can even think about the consequences of my actions, anger overtakes me. What I’ve hidden for so long and been so careful to keep secret is now in the hands of this impudent intruder?

I’m up out of my seat and running at him before I realize what I’m doing. I knock him forward, pushing with both my hands flat against his back.

He’s surprised and falls forward, losing his balance.

In this moment, I look around the room for some more dangerous weapon than my two hands. My knife is too far. I find what I’m looking for on the wall to my right. One of my fencing swords. I grab it off its decorative shelf and get in an offensive stance, right foot forward at an angle.

As Griffin regains his balance and faces me, I hold my stance, looking him fiercely in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but I see him scan the room fast. I lunge at him, but I’m a second too slow. He’s already run to my left and grabbed a wooden cane I’ve been carving. It’s now the wood cane against my steel sword. I’ve been fencing since I was seven, so I’m quick. I should be able to take him out easily.

I don’t mean to really hurt him, just push him back out of my room, get my anger out. But Griffin is stronger than I expect. We’re fighting, wood to steel, clashing in the air, the sword making gashes in the softer wood.

I jump back over furniture, toppling pieces as we both fly around the room. We’re both spinning, checking each other’s advances. Griffin surprises me, putting up a fight matching mine. I’ve received expert training, but who taught him to fight so well?

Griffin backs up against my door, but I can’t let him escape. Unless I win the fight, he could run out that door and tell the world my secret. My family’s future could come crashing down around me in an instant.

I push forward with more heat. We’re up close now, our weapons right at each other’s faces. I can hear his grunts through my own yells.

All at once his cane swings out at me, but not where I expect it to go. He doesn’t aim for my sword. He aims for my feet, knocking me off balance onto my back. My sword clatters to the ground in the onslaught, and before I know it he’s on top of me. I’m punching and pushing back at him, and we’re in a fist fight, rolling on the ground. I don’t easily give up, but he’s got a few muscular pounds on me.

I’m furious, kicking and shouting at him. In between our wrestling, he spurts out, “It’s your secret. Not mine.” He’s out of breath from our fight, so he has trouble getting the words out. “I’m not planning to tell anyone.”

While he’s trying to get the words out of his mouth, I take the opportunity to push harder. I end up on top of him and pin his arms above his head. He goes slack, letting me hold him there.

“You’re a girl,” he says, serious and amused at the same time.

“You have no evidence!”

He juts his chin out, pointing to my torso. His eyes are mischievous. I look down at what he’s pointing to.

And then I realize.

The shirt I’d been sleeping in has lost a few buttons. It hangs open and ragged off my torso. Immediately, I let go of Griffin’s arms and instinctively grasp around my chest for my bindings.

But I’m too late.

A milky white breast hangs out of the wrappings, announcing my secret loud and clear.

4

I jump back off Griffin, holding the binding cloth up to my chest. I’m furious. And ashamed. And angry at myself for this lapse.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell,” he says.

I’m numb, unable to say anything for fear I’ll completely lose my cool and start pitifully begging him not to turn me in. If my gender is revealed, not only will my family lose power, but we could be executed too.

Griffin gets off the floor, brushing his pants and shirt sleeves. While I stand in a corner, staring at him, he quietly places the cane back against my nightstand.

“So,” he says, “See you around, I guess.”

I’m frozen in place, unable even to answer him in my shock. He thinks he’s just going to leave my room? Walk out the door away from me, holding this nugget of information over my head?

And then he’s gone.

I want to yell at him to get back here. Or yell for my guards a
nd say Griffin assaulted me and needs to be taken away to the prison. I want to make sure he won’t tell a soul my secret. But, if I turn him in, he might renege on his promise and tell everyone my true gender. I stand in the corner for another moment, trying to determine my best course of action while fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. Then, like lightning has finally infused my joints, I run forward. I can’t let him just walk away.

I heave my doors open with so much force they bang against the inside of my bedroom walls with resounding vibrations. I don’t even look back as I jolt into the hallway.

And... run straight into one of the maids. She and I both topple over, the tray she was carrying crashing to the floor.

“Oh!” she exclaims.

I don’t even focus on her. My eyes are still darting around the hallway, searching for Griffin. I fixate on his lanky frame starting to descend the closest staircase. He turns back, his body aimed for the stairs but his head angled toward me. We lock eyes for a split second, long enough so I see him silently mouthing a sentence in my direction.

“You are a beautiful girl.”

I shift on the floor with my arms thrown out in back of me, completely dumbfounded. He thinks I’m what?
Beautiful
? Griffin turns to run down the rest of the stairs, this time not slowing.

“Hey, come—” I start to yell after him, but I’m interrupted by the maid whom I just knocked down.

“I’m so sorry!” She’s apologizing profusely. The girl starts to stand up, trying to collect the few pieces of a broken dish. She kneels next to me, unsure whether to offer me a hand or not. I pick myself up and look over at her.

“No, my fault entirely.” I try to make my voice steady. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m okay. I was just coming to see if you were awake. You slept through breakfast.”

I brush off my pants, keeping my head down, eyes centered on my legs. When I look up again, I see the girl’s pale eyes are framed behind a sheath of long black hair. They’re familiar, but they don’t hold my attention for long. Griffin’s mouth, moving to form his last sentence, lingers behind my eyes like looking into the sun and still seeing the white hot circle even when blinking.

“Thanks for thinking of me, but I don’t need anything,” I say, trying to get the girl to leave me alone. I take the overturned tray from her hands and step back into my bedroom letting the doors shut behind me. I hope she’ll take the hint and go. After a few more seconds, I hear her footsteps walking away.

I fall to the floor against my wall. After seventeen years, in one single morning I’ve blown it all. I’ve watched Griffin before, but now I’ll never be able to let him out of my sight. He’ll be a constant worry in the back of my mind. The worst thing is, I’ve let this happen before. And with the same person, no less.

I should’ve told my parents about meeting Griffin four years ago, but because of my cowardice, I’ve inadvertently granted Griffin an immense amount of power over me now. In all fairness, I was somewhat distracted that long ago night with an even bigger threat. But that isn’t a good enough excuse.

Four years ago, at age thirteen, I sat in my bedroom after yet another argument with my parents. The fights were increasingly frequent as I grew into my teens and started stretching my wings. That particular night, I’d heard all teenagers in East Country, ages thirteen through seventeen, were attending the annual dance. The kids would mingle and hopefully start to find suitors, so a marriage could quickly be formed when they turned eighteen and became most fertile. I wanted to see what the dance entailed, even if I was forced to watch from the sidelines. My wife was already determined. Couldn’t I at least be afforded the opportunity to see what I was giving up?

At dinner that evening, I’d asked my parents for permission to attend the dance. My father said no without even looking up from his plate.

“Of course that’s impossible,” said my mother, looking side-to-side to see if any servants were within hearing distance.

“But why, Ama? No one would even have to know it was me.”

“Keep your voice down!” Her words scalded me like boiling water. “The future Elected gaping at all the young men! Can you imagine?”

My voice shook as I responded. “I wouldn’t do that! I’d be discreet! I can handle myself!”

My father rose from his seat at the table, his body massive as he stood over me. “Enough of this foolishness! Why would you even want to go to the ceremony?”

I spluttered out my response before I could even think about the consequences. “I just want to see what normal kids do! The ones who don’t have the Elected position hanging around their heads like a noose!”

My father looked at me, his eyes burning my now reddened cheeks. “Do not let me hear you say that again. You are to be the Elected!” He slammed his fist down on the table. “One that takes pride in his position and responsibility and does not seek out idle fantasies!”

“Shhhh,” my mother said to my father. Her head pointed to the servants just arriving to bring us dessert.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he said, his feet pounding on the floor boards as he exited.

I looked down at my plate, feeling forlorn. “It’ll be fine again soon,” said my mother. “Just give him a few hours. He won’t be mad for long.”

But she didn’t understand me at all. I wasn’t concerned about my father’s anger. I was still upset they said I couldn’t attend the dance. When I pressed my mother again, she just cocked her head to the side, like the conversation didn’t warrant much feeling anymore. “It cannot be so.”

I left the table, sullen and dark. Sitting in my bedroom with my hands clasped so hard my knuckles looked like individual marbles, I let self-pity flood over me. This was more than just a dance. This was about being able to make my own choices. Be my own person. For my whole life, I’d be beholden to the Elected position. It really did feel like a noose tightening.

When a knock sounded at my door, I knew it would be Tomlin. He often smoothed things over during those rebellious years.

“Come in,” I said.

Tomlin opened the door gently, then let it click shut behind him. “You know, it doesn’t serve any purpose to anger them so.”

I looked up at him, my eyes awash with hopefulness and a few unshed tears. “Maybe they’ll relent one of these times. Let me have an ounce of freedom.”

Tomlin chuckled. “I don’t think so. Your father is a... resolute man.”

I stared at Tomlin morosely. “Why won’t they let me explore our country at all? Shouldn’t I see the people I’ll one day be ruling? See the countryside? They hardly let me out of this house!”

“It is a dangerous thing you ask for. Freedom is always a tad dangerous.”

“You want to know something?” I said, knowing my next words were heresy in this house. Tomlin was the only one with whom I could even think of sharing them. “I don’t even believe in the Elected Accord!”

Tomlin stood over me, reproaching, but he let me go on.

“It’s stupid that a woman can’t be the Elected. I don’t know why someone couldn’t focus on having a baby and be a leader at the same time. I could maybe do both.” I looked down at this last sentence.

I let my words hang in the air, growing cold. My “maybe” spoke for itself. Tomlin didn’t respond, just let me think about what I’d just said. We both knew I was already having a hard time mastering everything I needed to know to be the East Country’s leader. All the history, political and military. The science, the physics, the agricultural nuances of our planet. I needed to understand everything my townspeople knew and then some. Not to mention mastering the internal characteristics of the Elected—all the steadfastness I’d need to keep the country organized amid chaos. If I could barely do all that now, how could I focus on childbirth too? And even though I wasn’t taught about reproduction, I knew bearing children was risky. The Elected couldn’t very well die in childbirth, leaving the country without a leader. I didn’t say any more on the subject. Instead, I narrowed in on my other complaint.

“When will I ever get to be my own person?”

“Soon. In just five years you’ll be eighteen and in charge of yourself.” He looked at me with one eyebrow raised. “And then you might think back and reminisce about the time you still had a chance to lean on your parents.”

“I doubt it. I only wanted to see the dance. See what all the other kids were doing. That’s all. Just see it.” I whined out the last words.

He sat down next to me. Tomlin put a hand on my shoulder and said the magic words, which always seemed to settle me. “This too shall pass. One day at a time, Aloy.”

He sat with me for a few more minutes, both of us silent in thought.

“Ah, well. It’s getting late. I’d best be going.” He patted my shoulder and used it as a crutch to help him stand. As he unclasped the door to exit, he turned his head back to me. “I’ll send in a maid with some tea. Goodnight.”

“Night,” I mumbled.

I sat on my bed whittling a piece of wood, pulling the sharp knife over and over until I created a deep crease in the soft material. When the second knock sounded at the door, I barely registered it.

A new maid politely poked her head in. “I have tea. Shall I set it down near you?”

I hardly even looked up as I kept raking the knife over the wood. My voice was hoarse answering back, my self-pity still rampant. “That’s fine.”

She placed the cup on the nightstand next to my bed. The tea smelled of mint. I looked up at the maid for a moment, long enough to see she was a teenager. This just sent me into more of a depression as I imagined her getting ready for the dance soon. Every boy and girl in the whole country got to attend except me. I jumped up from the bed and faced the maid.

“Are you going to the dance tonight?” I asked.

She seemed surprised and instantly looked away from me. “Oh, me? I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You have to go. All eligible kids go to the dance. So you’re going too, right?”

The maid looked down, locks of strange red hair falling out of the shawl around her head. Her voice was quiet. “I suppose.”

“Well, have fun.” I knew I was being obnoxious, taking out my pain on someone else.

She looked down and started to make her way for my door.

I turned, about to fall back onto my bed in a huff. But then I thought better of it. This was no way a future Elected should speak to his people. I’d never be a true leader if I treated my own servants cruelly. I felt the self-obsession and anger I’d been carrying all evening melt off my shoulders. I caught up to the maid as she placed one hand on the doorframe. “Look, I’m sorry.” I reached for her arm. I breathed out slowly. “It’s just... that...”

“You’re lonely,” she finished for me.

“Yes.” I was surprised she understood so quickly.

The maid paused a moment, still looking away from me. She swallowed before speaking again. “Every day you get one step closer to marrying the Madame Elected. You won’t be lonely then.”

I looked down and loosened my hold on her arm. That’s what everyone hoped.

My reply to the maid was thick in my throat. “Thank you for the tea. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She started opening the door. The maid faced the outside hallway, her back still to me. “Everyone’s a little preoccupied right now. There’s some secret technology meeting going on tonight that all the guards are trying to find. I don’t think anyone would notice if someone snuck out.” She paused. “Sometimes it’s kind of... exhilarating... to get away.”

“What?” My head shot up, but as quick as the maid uttered her brazen dare, she was out into the hallway with the door slamming against her back. I ran forward, pulling the door back open. However, looking left and right, I could see no one in the hall. The maid was gone.

I slumped back onto my bed, continuing to whittle the piece of wood into a pipe for a water spigot. Leave the house alone? Without an entourage of guards? Without my parents’ permission? It was a ludicrous notion. But as the minutes ticked by and the moon got higher in the sky, the maid’s words sounded more and more enticing. Here was my chance. Possibly my only chance to get out, when everyone was preoccupied with the Faction’s secret meeting and the teenagers’ annual dance.