Pariah (The New Covenant Series) (2 page)

“A
hhhh! Goodness, Annette! You scalded
me!” I yelled, my pale skin already stinging and turning red. I tried to move farther back in the tub but couldn’t escape from the flesh-burning water. The stupid thing was too small. Miss Annette used her towel to hang the pot over the fire once more, her spine straining against the weight of the heavy black iron. She turned around and swiped a gray curl out of her eyes and tucked it back into her bun but to no avail.

“You know”—she scoffed, tilti
ng her head to the side—“you’re just lucky that I even bother to heat your water. It would be much easier on me to let you and the others bathe in water pulled straight from the well. She tried to straighten her back, hands on her broad hips. I noticed the marks of water slowly soaking into the sleeves and skirt of her long rose-colored dress.

She looked
tired and disheveled, but beyond that, I noticed a new expression on her face. The lines on her knitted brow hinted of worry and fear, not just the irritation that I seemed to incessantly cause her. “I know. Sorry, Miss Annette. I do appreciate the warmth,” I conceded, feeling terrible for yelling at her. She always tried to make our lives more comfortable, and I always seemed to give her grief over the smallest things.

Her expression softened as did her warm brown eyes. Wiping
her hands on a small towel, she muttered that she needed to go get Lil and Aria’s baths ready, turning on her heel and heading toward the door. The heavy wooden door slammed behind her as always, and as always, I startled from the sound. In the fifteen years I’d lived here, I’d never gotten used to it. Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to put up with it much longer.

I wouldn’t be free. I would never
be free, but I would be free to leave this room. I’d been locked on this floor of the fortress tower for as long as I could remember. These four stone walls were my home, if you could call it that. Personal decoration was forbidden.

The only décor consisted of the
wrought iron sconces that held our only sources of light, save the small fireplace. If we weren’t on the top floor, we wouldn’t even have the fireplaces for heat. I didn’t know what the girls on the lower floors did. My bed was small, but the mattress and blanket were filled with down that was both soft and comfortable.

There was also the wooden wardro
be in the far corner that held the provided clothing. The approved food was even brought in at designated times by Miss Annette or another member of the tower staff. Until last year, she was the only person permitted to be in contact with us at all. Now, Annette had several female assistants, and we had an instructor, Mr. Wesley, who seemed very young for such a position but was both knowledgeable and kind, and very handsome.

Mr. Wesley taught us histo
ry, prophecy, art, mathematics, science, and writing—trying to fit a lifetime of education into one year as best he could. Talented musically, he intertwined the subject into our daily lessons to express to us his passion for the subject. He was patient—thank goodness—because I was not particularly musically inclined. He even made us sing. Lil and Aria had beautiful soprano voices, but of course, I was the alto of our trio.

Mr. Wesley often said that
we were the perfect combination and would close his big green eyes as we sang, bobbing his head to the melody as if he physically felt the notes wafting over him. His brown hair would graze his brows as he sat lost in the music.

Did I mention he was handsome? Of course, I could never admit
it to anyone. Lil would most certainly agree but would no doubt embarrass me for the rest of our year here. I could just imagine her wagging her eyebrows up and down when she saw me looking at him. Death by embarrassment would come swiftly for me.

Anyway, Aria, the final third of our trio, was embarrassing
enough for all of us. I didn’t want to contribute. She was shamelessly flirty and was experienced with many of the men in town. How she was able to sneak out or sneak them into her room was beyond me. She was just flat nasty, at least her behavior and attitude were. In actuality, she was a beauty. Her hair was long and black as onyx against her tan skin. She was tall and very thin. I cringed just thinking about her and couldn’t wait to get out of here to escape her snide remarks that daily chipped away from what little self-esteem I had left.

Wrapped in my thin white robe,
I began the tedious process of untangling my wet mane of hair. I was a potential, and potentials were forbidden from cutting their hair. Ever. The rulers said that because the Bible indicated that a woman’s hair was her glory, and thus her beauty, to cut it would be to diminish these gifts and, thus, disrespect the Lord. If the council members themselves had to spend an hour brushing it out after bathing, they might change opinions regarding the glory and beauty of the matter.

Knock. Knock. Knock.
Lil poked her light blonde head in. “Squeee! Can you believe that tonight is our introduction! I have been dreaming of this since I was like three!” she squealed. She was petite, maybe five-feet tall on her tippy-toes and very tiny. Even her facial features were elfin with her slightly pointy nose and ears and her big hazel eyes and pretty and thin lips. I had always wished that I looked like her. Adding to her appeal was her contagious laughter and bubbling happiness. She was my best friend in the world.

“I guess, Lil.” I smiled, watc
hing her bounce around my room. She flopped belly first onto my bed and propped her head up with her palms, elbows digging into my pillow. She frowned and curled her bottom lip under.

“Lars, you have to enjoy yours
elf tonight. We are never going to get this chance again. We get to be the center of attention, wear beautiful gowns, dance with gorgeous guys, and have a simply magical time! I cannot wait, and I will make it my mission tonight, to see that you have fun,” she declared, raising her right arm, making a solemn oath to herself. “Here”—she offered, jumping off the bed and running toward me—“let me help you with your hair. You’re lucky it’s thick. Mine is so thin. I’m jealous!”

Owww
! I thought, gritting my teeth as she hurriedly jerked the comb through my stubborn light brown locks. My hair color was boring. I would much rather be blonde like Lil or black like Aria. In fact, any color would be preferable to light brown or dark blonde or whatever this dull shade was called.

“Knock, knock.” I cringed, r
ealizing that Aria’s irritating singsong voice is entering the room. “Solara, your hair is
so
difficult. How are you
ever
going to tame it in time for the introduction?” she mocked with her lips turned down in a condescending pout, her smirk leaking through her feigned concern.

Lil tensed and stopped combing. “Aria, don’t you have
someone
else to go do?” she retorted, smiling sweetly. I couldn’t contain my laughter. Lil rarely snapped back at her.

Aria sauntered farther into my room and put her hands on
her hips, “Look, Miss Annette wants you, so I suggest you hurry, bitches!” After her announcement, she turned and stalked out of my room, trying in vain to swing hips that just weren’t there. She was so skinny and bony—almost boyish in shape, and she thought she was the most beautiful thing that ever graced the Earth’s face.

Lil and I scurried to Miss A
nnette’s room. We rarely got an invitation to visit her, so we leaped at the opportunity when it presented itself. Miss Annette was sitting in front of her mirrored dresser on a small wooden bench. Her head bent, apparently gazing down at something on her dresser.

“Lillian,” she said softly, “please come here, dear.” Of course,
she obliged and moved to stand next to Miss Annette. Miss Annette showed her the yellow dress hanging on the sconce nearby. “This dress is yours to wear tonight. You may borrow any of my jewelry that you like. I will need it back but would be happy to loan it to you for the introduction.”

Lil beamed, moved tow
ard her, and gently picked up a hammered gold necklace and matching earrings. “This bracelet would look lovely too, Lillian,” Miss Annette said, holding the bracelet up for Lil to see.

“Thank you, Miss Annette, so
much!” she squealed, giving her that sunshine smile. Yellow was very appropriate for Lil. Miss

Annette instructed her to take
the jewelry and dress and shoes to her room or mine—whichever we would be getting ready in—and Lil eagerly ran out of the room and down the hallway. The sound of her footsteps faded in the distance.

“Solara,” said Miss Annet
te. I stepped forward and moved to her side as well. Moving a red dress to the side, she reached for one tucked behind it. Thank goodness. I hated red.

“This is
yours, Solara.” My mouth gaped open.
It’s perfect
! It was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. Our normal clothing consisted of cream-colored, cotton dresses that covered us from neck to ankle. They were plain and inexpensive, provided by the kingdom. The dress hanging before me was exquisite. The delicate material was made to sit off both shoulders. Fabric roses outlined the entire neckline, across the delicate swath of fabric at the arms and weaved their way around, meeting in the back. More roses gathered on the left side of the waist and then the gathered fabric cascaded, falling to the floor. It was teal, more blue than green, just enough to make it my favorite color in the world.

Still in awe of the extraordina
ry garment in front of me, Miss Annette cleared her throat and brought me back to reality again.

“Miss Annette, it is so beautiful! Th
ank you,” I gushed. I excitedly hugged her plump shoulders and looked back at it again. She handed me a pair of beautiful earrings. Silver ovals with teal filigree winding through the shape, a delicate row of five small black beads dangled down from the bottoms. A silver bangle matched the pair, with a large oval embossed with the exquisite silver-and-teal filigree.

“Solara,” she waited, loo
king down at something small in her fingers.

“Yes, Miss Annette,” I answered, s
till fingering the fine jewelry in my hands.

“This is
your
ring, actually.” She held a small silver ring in her arthritic drawn fingers and placed it in the palm of my hand.

“Your mother asked me to give it
to you before your reveal, but I think it fits well with your ensemble, and we are only a month away from the reveal anyway, so I think you should have it. Please return the earrings and bracelet tomorrow, but you may keep your ring.”

The wind quickly exited my lungs as I struggled to comprehend
the foreignness of her words. “You knew my mother,” I barely whispered.

“Yes,” she quietly admitted, grabbing the ring and pu
tting it on my finger. The ring was silver with a very shiny black stone set in the center of it. It was simple but very beautiful and intriguing.

I could get lost in its depths if I
looked long or hard enough. “We were two of a group of three potentials, much like you, Lillian, and Aria. The three of us were the best of friends, but I kept a special place in my heart for your mother, and she kept one for me as well. Obviously, we weren’t the chosen, but we were blessed to be married to cousins who lived next door to one another,” she explained, staring blankly at her dresser.

She moved a piece of ha
ir back into her silver bun and continued, “I was with your mother the night of your birth. She had a very difficult delivery, and the midwife grew concerned with her health and yours. She sent your father to get the healer, but he didn’t arrive in time. She knew she was dying, Solara. I sat on her bedside, holding her hand.” She sniffled, tears streaking down her face. “She knew you would survive and gave me this ring to hold, making me promise to keep it and you safe. Of course, I promised her that I would. The midwife worked with her once more to push, and you were born, but your mother had lost too much blood, and the light in her eyes drifted away,” she said softly.

“I knew that being born in t
he early summer would mean that you would also become a potential. You would be taken from your father at the age of two and placed in the fortress for upbringing. Your father took care of you when he wasn’t working. I watched you during the day, and he came and got you at night until he became ill. He passed away when you were only five months old, and I brought you to live with us. My husband and I had temporarily agreed to take in two boys that belonged to the third of our potential class, our other best friend. She had fallen ill and passed away a month before and her husband, needing to provide for his family monetarily, could not keep both boys and work at the same time. He was a seafarer and needed to travel the seas to save enough money to take care of his family. He agreed to come get them when he established himself further, and ultimately, he did. I raised you and the two boys together until you were two,” she exhaled.