Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Alexander didn’t seem to think they were friends. I couldn’t tell if they were or rather just worked well together. I cleared my throat to announce my presence, and their attention simultaneously shifted to me.
Esther's eyes lit up with a welcoming smile, appraising my chosen attire with approval.
Nicolette offered a more conservative greeting. I was surprised to see her here. I knew she’d be coming back, but she had to be in pain worse than I was. I refrained from bringing it up, getting the distinct impression that would be the last thing she wanted. We were pretending it had never happened. Got it.
"Good morning," Esther trilled, her tone infused with warmth. "I hope you slept well."
"Morning,” I returned, purposefully not responding to the latter.
“Have a seat. As soon as you’re done eating, we can leave.”
I perched myself on a stool at the island, noting the way Nicolette was watching me as I helped myself to some of the watermelon Esther had just cut up before either of them could attempt to serve me.
“I would’ve gotten that for you,” Esther remarked.
I was instantly reminded of her brother. “I’m perfectly capable of using my own two hands. I appreciate it, though.”
At my words, she and Nicolette shared a look, and then promptly moved everything out of reach. I watched them bemusedly.
“Is it that big of a deal for me to get my own food?”
Nicolette quirked her lips and put a hand on her hip. “Have you forgotten everything we discussed yesterday?”
“That would be impossible.”
“Then you know that the act of serving you is a way for us to express our devotion and loyalty.”
I held my hand up and massaged my brow. “Please don’t start reciting the doctrine. I have a good memory and haven’t forgotten anything.”
“Oh, really?” Esther challenged playfully.
I huffed and straightened on the stool. “The Electi and the bond they have with their Nocturnus Disciples and Luna Vestals is not a relationship of dominance or subjugation, but rather a symbolic connection,” I recited as easily as I would pledging to the flag.
“And what does the Electi provide?”
“Guidance, protection, and leadership,” I answered.
Esther beamed at me. “You really memorized that in one day?”
“Honestly? I just recited one of the passages I read more than once.”
“But you…memorized it in order to do so,” Nicolette pointed out.
“It wasn’t that hard,” I replied, frowning as I realized how that sounded. “I’m not bragging or anything, I just meant it was easy to retain the information.”
“The Isle approves of you,” Esther murmured, a reverence in her tone that immediately made me uncomfortable. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to witness something so sacred twice in my life.”
"The Isle…approves?" I questioned slowly.
Esther leaned forward, her fingers interlaced and expression now serious. "The Isle isn't just a piece of land surrounded by water. It's alive in its own right. It feels, it senses, and most importantly, it chooses."
That was not the reply I’d expected. "You mean, like it has a consciousness? It’s a sentient being?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Esther nodded, her gaze searching mine for understanding.
"The Isle has a sort of... lifelike force. It's intertwined with our faith, our practices, and our livelihood. But this is a rare phenomenon. When someone is chosen, it's not just by the people, or by our Carnalis Dominus. It's by the very land we stand on."
As I processed this information, it dawned on me that Alexander must have been the last person chosen by this so-called sentient Isle. It seemed like exactly the kind of narrative he would be entwined with. I couldn't help but view it all with a critical eye. To me, it sounded more like a carefully crafted story used to justify and romanticize their customs, rather than an actual, tangible truth.
As Esther observed my reaction, a flicker of understanding crossed her face. "You don't believe me, do you?" she asked, her tone devoid of any anger or judgment. It was more of a statement than a question, reflecting her awareness of my skepticism.
Her expression was calm, as if she had anticipated my disbelief from the start.
I decided to stick with the truth. "No."
Nicolette smothered a snort, clearly amused. Esther stared at me a moment longer and then began to laugh.
“I completely get it,” she replied, sounding our age for once and not like Grandmother Willow. “Still, you memorized a good portion of it! I’m so proud of you.”
That, strangely enough, did matter to me, regardless of how different our areas of belief were. Still, this didn’t seem like something I should thank her for, so I said nothing.
“Do you want anything else?” Nicolette asked, gesturing to my plate.
“Is there mustard?”
She turned and retrieved a plump yellow bottle from the door of the refrigerator, the flared skirt of her midi dress floating around her as she did.