Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
After washing up and throwing on a simple robe, I wandered the halls, unsure of what else to do with myself. The house was quiet, eerily so, and my footsteps echoed through the empty corridors. The silence reminded me of those early days in this place, where everything felt like a trap, and I was waiting for the next turn.
I ended up on the rear deck again, staring out at the lake as the morning sun made it shimmer. I placed my hand over my flat belly, now even more convinced that Alexander had to know. He always knew everything. Still, I hadn’t told him. I hadn’t had the chance. My feelings about the baby were a tangled mess of fear, uncertainty, and something deeper that I couldn’t quite put into words.
The thought of becoming a mother, of carrying Alexander’s child, made me feel vulnerable in ways I hadn’t expected. This baby was the natural extension of everything between us, of the life I’d fallen into on the Isle, whether I’d chosen it or not but had come to accept. There was a warmth that I couldn’t deny. The idea of a tiny life growing inside me—half mine, half Alexander’s—brought a strange kind of joy. I found myself wondering what they would look like.
Admittedly I was scared too, more scared than I’d ever been but I also felt an overwhelming need to protect this baby, to keep them safe. I knew the Isle and its natives would help do the same. This child would belong to the them, just as much as they belonged to me and Alexander. There was no escaping that. As I stood on the deck, staring out at the calm lake, I realized something I hadn’t expected—despite all the fear and uncertainty, a part of me already loved this baby. It was quiet, but it was there, stirring something deep inside me.
I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn’t turn around right away. Then Esther’s voice called my name. I turned, seeing her along with Adelita, Beatrice, Keres, and Pandora.
Their servitors too. The sight took me aback. Each of them wore an expression of quiet determination.
“You need to start getting ready,” Esther said, leaving no room for debate.
“Now?” I blinked, glancing at the early morning sky. My Rite wasn’t for hours. The ceremonies here never happened during daylight. I hadn’t expected this—not so soon. Part of me had hoped for more time to collect myself, to prepare mentally for what was coming. It seemed I had little say in the matter.
Verity appeared behind them, carrying a tray of tea and small pastries, her silent presence always calming me. She gave me a small, encouraging nod, and I allowed myself to be guided back inside.
The air was charged with anticipation as we headed to the suite where preparations were already underway. The hours passed in a blur of motion. My hair was twisted and pinned into an intricate design that felt both elegant and otherworldly. Makeup was applied with the precision of an artist painting a masterpiece, and all the while, my thoughts drifted.
Time continued to slip by unnoticed as they helped me into my gown—a dress that was a masterpiece of black lace and crimson veils, flowing down like a river of blood. The fabric hugged my form, intricate and dark, as though it had been made for me alone. I soon found out it had been. Alexander’s mother had helped. I realized I hadn’t had a hand in any of the preparations for this union, but it didn’t matter.
The dress was perfect.
Keres placed the elaborate headpiece on my head, the black roses and spikes creating a dark halo above me. Lastly, Adelita approached with a necklace—a red jeweled pendant that seemed to pulse in the light.
“This belonged to me,” she said, fastening it around my neck. “Now, it’s yours.”
I touched the cool stone, feeling the weight of the moment. This wasn’t just about me and Alexander. Her expression was soft as she took my hand. “Thank you for choosing my son,” she said quietly. “I know it wasn’t an easy choice to make.”
I looked up at her, my eyes drawn to the scar she still tried to hide beneath her hair. It was a mark of what she had endured, a reminder of the sacrifices that came with living on this Isle.
Her words were so simple, yet they held so much weight. I looked at her, at the scar that still marred her forehead—the same mark that had been burned into my back. Whatever she had gone through it had been worse than what I experienced. I knew that instinctively, but there was a strength in her, a resilience that I admired.
“I didn’t really have a choice,” I murmured, but the words lacked the bitterness they might have once held.