Midnight's Song (19 page)

In the beginning of
August, I was prepared to spend the week with my last and most
pretentious suitor, Winston Everen. He was of the
2
^nd
caste because of his lineage, but he was still more than
willing to pursue me despite the risks associated with moving down
a step. I didn’t know what to expect from Winston, but I did know
that he had power over the Katie Isles. I wasn’t going to shy away
from giving him a piece of my mind.

“Milady,” he bowed. “I am
pleased to meet you. I know that it is a bit sudden, but would you
like to accompany me into the forest?”

Surprised at his immediate
invitation, I nodded. I still don’t know exactly why – but none of
my suitors had been daring enough to venture into the forest.
Having more than a few words for him, I slyly told him
yes.

“Tell me, Celeste. Why is
it that you enjoy the forest so much?” Winston asked as we strolled
down the dirt path.

I wondered how he could
have known about my fixation with it, but I honestly hadn’t been
paying attention either way. I was too busy rooting through my mind
of the case I was going to make about the suffering of my friends
in the Isles.

“Who told you about that?”

“Your relatives, of
course.”

Alright, obviously he was
interested enough to have done his homework. Maybe he wasn’t as
into himself as the others. But, I still wasn’t going to let that
stop me from telling him what I had planned to all
along.

“I’m not going to keep
this waiting any longer,” I interjected. “You’re responsible for my
homeland. You know where I come from. Why do you think I’d be so
eager to spend time with you?

“Excuse me…?” I could tell he was
stunned.

“Are you not aware of the suffering of
your own people?”

Winston was (oddly
enough) everything I’d described to Wren and Beeti to an
absolute
tee.
Though, apart from the negatives he did have a rather
charming smile sitting on top of his bright, olive-colored
complexion. He puffed out his chest as if he was
oh-so-dignified.

“What do you mean ‘suffering’? You
mean to tell me that I’m not aware of life in my own
region?”

“That’s
exactly
what I mean to
tell you.” I snapped back.

“You insinuate that
I know nothing,” Winston reddened. “
I
am a
duke
!”

“Being a duke doesn’t give
you knowledge. Life in the Northern Coast is a nightmare. I’ve
lived it. Though, I suppose you’re too far removed from reality to
realize that.”

“‘
Far removed’
? Well then, how far removed am I?” Now he faced me with just
as much determination, but instead only challenged me to give him
my reply. “Tell me what you think of me.”

I exhaled. There were far
too many things to list. I decided to start with just
one.

“Considering how little
you do for the Northern Coast, I don’t believe you understand very
much…”

“Go on,” he urged. “Tell me what you
believe about me so that I might clarify it.”

He seemed to be genuine,
but I worried that it might all be just a façade. Would he use his
power against me? Apparently he realized this, too.

“I won’t punish you for telling me.
Just allow me to know what you believe about me.”

“Alright, I’ll say it then,” I
cleverly replied. “How far removed are you? Well, like most of the
other suitors – I can only naturally assume that you’re so far
removed from reality that you believe the sky is made of taffeta
and the ground is made of small flecks of gold.”

“The only flecks of gold
here, Mademoiselle,” Winston swooned, “are the ones in your hazel
eyes.”

“Winston, don’t
flatter me. I’m attempting to have a real discussion with you! And,
my eyes aren’t hazel. They’re
brown.”

His ill charm and flattery
weren’t working on me as they would have done on most women. In
some odd way, it piqued his interest.

“You know, you are quite bold for a
woman. And quite bold in standing up to the duke of your people
nonetheless,” he told me in response. Though, there was no
threatening hinge to his words. Instead, I caught a small glimmer
in his eye. “I’ll tell you what. I will discuss your political
ideologies with you – just so long as you continue walking with me.
Let us make it into a battle of wits.”

“A battle of wits, you say?” I
daringly challenged. “And what is at stake in this
battle?”

“Hmm…” Winston
mischievously murmured out loud. “Let’s barter. My terms are as
follows: if I win, you must accept the invitation that at dinner
tonight. And you’ll owe me one favor.”

“It depends on what you’re going to be
asking,” I raised an eyebrow in curious distrust.

“No! These are my
terms. If you accept them, you must follow through.” He stopped
himself as a precaution. “If it’s any consolation, I
am
a gentleman. I will
not ask anything indecent of you..”

“Fine. But before I
accept…what exactly are the terms if
I
win?”

“Those are up to you.”

I pondered what I might
do. Winston seemed to be open to hearing from me, though it seemed
that it was something I’d have to prove using my own
wit.

“If I win, you must
listen to what I have to say in
full.
And, you will owe me a
favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Winston
peculiarly asked.

“These are my terms,” I
smirked. “You simply have to follow through.”

“Fine then. I agree.
This battle will begin with a question: What concerns you that you
believe
I
can
fix?”

“Well, I think we’ve
established that you’re a duke. You have wealth and power, why
don’t you use it?”

“Oh, but I do,” his eyes
flickered.

“I mean for
someone
other
than yourself.”

“Touché,” he responded,
intrigued.

“My point is, if you
have money and power that you get
because
of your people, why do you
keep it all just for yourself instead of using it to help them?” I
asserted boldly. He suddenly softened, realizing what I was getting
at. His next words would truly shock me.

“So…you truly believe that my family
gets our wealth from the people?”

The look on his face read
the opposite of what I believed. All this time, I was certain that
Winston’s wealth had come with power. I could sense now that I had
jumped too soon. Things weren’t all that they seemed after
all.

“Well…yes…” I attempted to
articulate myself.

“We don’t. And although
you may think that our position comes with power…it truly
doesn’t.”

“It…doesn’t?” I suddenly
retracted.

“Think about it. The taxes
aren’t ours. The wages of the populace aren’t ours. The influence
isn’t even ours anymore.” Winston became bitterer with every
word.

“But, you still have some
power,” I declared in a sour attempt to further my case.

“No, we don’t. All of the power to
make laws and punish lawbreakers is out of our hands. Sure, our
dissatisfaction might resonate with some of the more powerful
people; but there is no magical scepter that we can wave when we
want someone put away. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I thought – I thought
that dukes were the heads of their provinces!”

“Things are much
more complicated than that,” Winston told me, now quieting. “All I
am in the government is a face. A proper and pampered
face!
The real power
belongs to the Magistrate
.
”

Now I felt like I truly
understood what he was saying. He wasn’t the one behind the
suffering. I still couldn’t fathom how he could feel so utterly
powerless to it all. Then I remembered something else about the
duke. It was something that caused a spark of knowledge to surface
in me and to stand up once again.

“You’re not
powerless. Your family owns the fishing company that employs half
of the 10
^th
caste!”

“Yes, we do…but what does that have to
do with anything? What power does that give me over your
people?”

I opened my mouth to
speak, but I decided not to give him my original answer. This was a
battle of wits, but so far it didn’t quite seem like one. If I was
going to persuade Winston that he wasn’t powerless, I’d have to
show him in a different way.

“Instead of thinking of power, let me
just ask you this: how much of each catch do the men working on
your ships get to keep?”

“One fourth,” Winston speedily
replied, still lined with confusion at every seam. “Why? I don’t
understand what you’re getting at.”

I ignored his words of bemusement and
continued on. “And how many men do you think work on the
ships?”

“I don’t know Celeste.” I could tell
that he was bluffing in some respect.

“Just guess,” I persuaded.

“I can’t guess if
I’m not sure!” His words were laden with denial. After a few
seconds of silence, he spoke up again and sighed. “The law says
that there are supposed to be five able-bodied men to each
boat.
No more, and no
less
.”

I had to keep myself from smiling in
the seriousness of the moment. My words were finally reaching the
depths of his conscience, and I could tell from the guilt in his
expression that it was something that he knew he couldn’t
ignore.

“
Well,
your company doesn’t abide by that law. My –” I stopped myself from
revealing my parentage. “I mean, many
of
my
friends
worked
for your company until the days that they died. All of my life,
I’ve never seen that few fishermen go off to sea at one
time.”

Something inside of
me made me hesitate to let Winston know of my family identity. He
knew I was a 10
^th
caste, but I wasn’t sure how he would react if I
made my case too personal. If I upset him – would he go through his
records in spite and look for my father’s name? Winston’s
expression turned to one of concern.

“How many, then?”

“Sixteen
.”
I informed. A look of shock washed over him. “Sometimes
twelve. On a good day, my –” I stopped myself again and replaced my
thought with a generality. “
A
sailor
would have gotten half of a fish.
When the catch was sparse, the sailors often didn’t get any to take
home.”

The new Winston that had surfaced
quickly retracted, and he became defensive once again. “Well…surely
their wages would compensate for it.”’

“10
^th
caste workers barely make enough to get by as it is. Some
families even have members under special circumstances that can’t
contribute.” At my words, Winston fell silent. For a few moments, I
could sense his guilt. When he looked back up, there was a sudden
change in his demeanor.

“Celeste…I would like to
apologize. I had no idea what sorts of injustices you must have
witnessed. If I could ever find a way to help you or your people, I
would” he told me softly. “But, for now – I’d like to perhaps
change the topic. My feelings for you remain unchanged, and I would
still like to get to know you. So…might we start over?”

There was no hint of
sarcasm or spite anywhere in his apology – and I was convinced that
he was only speaking to me from his heart. Winston was indeed
different from the other bachelors; he was someone who seemed to
care.

“Winston, I accept your
apology. I am sorry as well,” I sighed. “…It might be a good idea
to start over.”

“Well then, let us introduce ourselves
again –” Winston started, though I quickly stopped him when I felt
a clever spark shoot through me.

“Wait,” I halted. “Before
we start from a clean slate, what about our battle of
wits?”

“Hmm…you’re right,”
Winston playfully nudged. “I believe that
you
are the
winner.”

“No…I don’t think I’m the
winner,” I contested.

“Then does that mean that
I win?” Winston broke into a grin at my proclamation.

“Oh no…you certainly
don’t win,” I hastily replied. “
Neither
of us
has.”

“Well then, we shall honor
our agreement as if our losses equate to a tie!” Winston’s smile
grew even bigger. He hooked his arm around mine and quickly
overshadowed me with his exclamation before I could open my mouth
in reply. “Milady, I am Winston Everen. And you?”