The Brand of Anem Page 3

  Carson couldn’t bear to think too much about it. His imagination wasn’t kind to him in the least. All he could do was pray to Anem that she’d make a way for Margaret and him to be together and still not reap what they had sown.

  Even as he prayed that prayer, he knew he was asking for too much.

  ☽ ✵ ☾

  Margaret thought Carson was oddly off that day. He was quieter than normal, and that was saying something. If his body mass was sixty percent water, then the other forty percent was simply made up of quietness and deep thought—the deep thought usually being the cause of his silence.

  Yet, Margaret didn’t want to ask Carson what he was thinking about, because, if she was honest with herself, she knew exactly what he was thinking. After all, it was that same day, only hours prior, when they stood in the same room, pretending to not know each other. She was sure he watched her thank every person that stopped and congratulated her and William on their soon-to-be marriage.

  It had to have bothered him, and for that she felt a tremendous amount of guilt. He had to know it wasn’t what she wanted, though. She didn’t pick William. Her father picked him, and there was nothing she could do to get out of the arranged marriage, which was not an abnormal practice. Every marriage was arranged, and in a lot of cases, people were paired together without any request to marry that person given—though one could write a formal marriage request to the judge. It didn’t mean he would honor that request, though. That was just the way it was done. It was to ensure a successful generation would follow. If she could pick, of course she would’ve picked Carson a thousand times over. That was, if they were even in the same Class… which, of course, they weren’t.

  If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.

  Margaret didn’t like William, and she was sure it was due to the simple fact that he was not Carson. Part of her felt bad about disliking William even though he had not done anything wrong, but she couldn’t help or change how she felt.

  As she laid in her bed, struggling to get comfortable, knowing a sleepless night laid before her, she recalled the day she met William Lach.

  It happened only two weeks ago. Her father had just barely told her he had made an agreement with the chief officer of Deneb’s Capital. She was confused why it concerned her, until he said the word marriage. That was the last thing she heard him say even though his mouth kept moving. She assumed he must have been defending himself on why he’d picked William, and why he hadn’t consulted with her first before signing a contract with the officer.

  Then, only an hour later, William Lach had stopped by the house through an invite extended by her father. He had bowed his head to her and smiled. He wasn’t horrible, she remembered thinking.

  But he wasn’t Carson.

  He could never measure up to Carson, she was sure of it. And what would happen when he saw Anem’s brand on her shoulder? He wouldn’t want her. He would have grounds to divorce her. She would be shamed, and there would be no place in this world for one Duchess Margaret James any longer.

  But she’d never apologize for loving Carson. They couldn’t make her. If there was ever one thing she got right, it was loving Carson, even if they insisted it was wrong.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “And to think, you’ll be having your very own Ceremony in a little less than a year!” Kayla said excitedly, clapping her hands together as if she was an ecstatic little girl.

  Carson smiled at her, though he wasn’t sure he was looking forward to his Ceremony. Everyone that ever had their “Ceremony of Adulthood” changed, always became something else . They were never themselves again. Carson didn’t even understand what it really was, let alone how to explain it. He supposed it was just a part of growing up. It scared him, if he was being honest. It wasn’t the growing up part. It was the change, the Ritual done during the Ceremony, the Ritual of an Immature transcending to a Mature. He didn’t understand how it happened because it was such a private ordeal, and perhaps it was that part that made him nervous.

  “What would you like your color theme to be, Carson?” his mother asked, reaching her hand up to his forehead to move his black hair that fell over his eyebrows to the side. “We need to start planning it out. Also, you need a haircut this week.”

  “I really don’t care about colors,” he told her softly, shrugging. He wished she wouldn’t pester him about his Ceremony until later. He was preoccupied with his thoughts, and she kept interrupting them. He said regarding the haircut she mentioned, “If I get a haircut, I was thinking about doing something wild.” One eyebrow raised on Kayla’s face. He just smiled crookedly. “Just kidding, Mother. I’ll be a tame young man, I swear it.”

  She rolled her eyes, smiling. “You are a handful, Jerry Carson. A handful, I tell you.” Then she puckered her lips in thought and her piercing sky-blue eyes wandered away from his face. He had let his chocolate stare wander from her too, looking around the room at the people crowding into the recreational hall at the temple for Samuel’s Ceremony of Adulthood. The last time Carson was in that hall, only two days ago, he wasn’t in the greatest of moods.

  Samuel Vickers moved to their city only a year before, and that was halfway through their last year of schooling. He was quiet like Carson, so naturally they were friends. Well… perhaps the word friend was stretching it a bit. Carson could count on one hand how many conversations they’d actually had, one of them being that very day, just a few moments before Samuel was escorted into a private room by multiple people of different occupations—three officers, a physician, a nurse, and the judge—to perform the Ritual.

  He had left with hazel eyes, and Carson knew he would emerge with piercing sky-blue irises. Everyone did when the Ritual was completed. The blue represented the Mature. Any other color represented the Immature. Carson’s question of what the Ritual actually was burned in the back of his head. No one was ever allowed to ask, and it drove him to the brink of insanity not knowing.

  “What about green and black?” Carson’s mother ripped him from his thoughts once again. “You like those two colors, right?”

  Suddenly, Carson’s eyes caught sight of caramel hair pulled back into a tight bun and the laugh of one Miss Margaret James. He’d forgotten Mother had spoken to him.

  “Carson,” she addressed, snapping her fingers in front of his face, making him start slightly.

  He looked at her. “Yeah,” he said, nodding quickly, glancing over at Maggie who had gathered a few people around her— old schoolmates that Carson recognized. “Sounds good, Mother. I’m going to go talk to my old schoolmates now, okay?” As he started to leave, he gave her a quick side-peck on her temple so she couldn’t complain later about him just leaving her hanging. Kisses and hugs always worked with mothers.

  As he approached the group, Carson overheard Margaret talking to her old friend that she had been closest to in school. Fiona. “I know!” Maggie exclaimed excitedly, “It feels just like yesterday we were graduating school! Look at us now! Everyone’s getting their job assignments and Ceremonies are happening back-to-back!” She sighed and then smiled.

  “When is yours?” Fiona asked her, her voice low. It was strange to hear Fiona so mild- tempered .

  “Yeah, Margaret,” commented Bobby who stood a good two feet from the women. “I forget how old you are.”

  “I just turned seventeen, so a little less than a year away. I’ve always been the youngest of the Immature in our class. You know that, Fiona.”

  “Yeah, FiFi,” Kelly, who always seemed a bit disheveled in Carson’s opinion, commented while elbowing Fiona jokingly.

  Fiona smiled at the two girls weakly. Her sky-blue irises shimmered in the fluorescent light. “Of course. It slipped my mind. Growing up is definitely something to be excited about.” Her voice was less perky than Carson recalled. Fiona used to be giddy and always bubbling with joy. Where was that Fiona now? He supposed after her Ceremony a month ago that she thought it was time to grow up. But Carson didn’t see anything wrong w
ith who she was before—besides being obnoxious eighty percent of the time. She didn’t have to change because of a ritual, even if she was one of the Mature now.

  Fiona turned her head towards Carson. “Carson,” she addressed, her voice once again taking him by surprise. “Glad you made it. I was concerned for your wellbeing considering how quickly you left Margaret and William’s engagement party. Bobby said you weren’t feeling well.”

  Carson’s stomach flipped slightly as he glanced at Bobby. He couldn’t recall telling Bobby he felt ill, but perhaps he did and forgot. He simply shrugged at Fiona’s comment. “I just needed to sleep it off.”

  Kelly smiled widely at Carson and blushed as she said, “Glad you’re feeling better.” Her messy bun flopped to the side when she glanced down at her shuffling feet. It wasn’t anything new, but… Was she dancing? What a strange girl, that Kelly. Thank Anem she’s pledged! Now there’s no chance I’d get stuck with her . Carson internally shuddered at the thought of Kelly being his wife. She would actually drive him insane, and then they would actually be a perfect match.

  Kill me now .

  Margaret then interjected, “Hopefully you didn’t infect anyone.”

  Carson smiled at her, but was consciously making an effort not to let his eyes linger on her. He looked from her to Fiona to Kelly to Bobby, then back to Margaret as he spoke. “No promises. Misery likes company, you know.”

  Margaret and Kelly both giggled, but Fiona didn’t find Carson amusing. Bobby just smirked and said, “So you always like company then?”

  “You saying I’m always miserable, Collins?”

  He threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying you’re not always miserable.”

  The three young women snickered, but Maggie was the one that responded. “You two haven’t changed a bit. That’s nice.”

  Both boys smiled at her. Carson thought in that moment that it was almost like they were young schoolmates again, talking together at lunchtime about stupid, meaningless stuff. He missed those days when life was simpler and Margaret wasn’t engaged.

  “What’s going on over here?” William stepped up next to Margaret, half an inch from touching her, but he restrained himself. He was smiling that same punchable smile he wore at the engagement party. What William didn’t know, though—and it made Carson repulsively pleased to think about—was that on the night of their engagement celebration, Carson held Margaret in a carnal embrace. Carson had to fight a smirk that wanted to escape, but he forced it back which resulted in the corner of his mouth twitching a couple of times.

  “Catching up with old friends from school is all,” Margaret said, gesturing to the group. She smiled at her soon-to-be husband, but Carson knew that fake smile anywhere. It was one she wore quite a bit around people, being that she was expected to always be smiling. People were always watching the Duchess of Deneb, after all. But Carson had seen her real smile enough times to know the subtle differences. It was the most beautiful smile, and she wasn’t giving it to William.

  Suddenly, Bobby slammed his elbow into Carson’s bicep. “Ow!” Carson spit through his teeth, gripping his arm. “I swear, Bobby. Do that one more…” he began, but stopped himself short of the threat.

  Bobby’s eyes just widened in that same way that said what it had always said when they were closer friends: “You’re staring at her again.”

  Then, William interrupted their exchange. “Boys, is there a problem?” He used his typical officer voice with them, and it pissed Carson off even more.

  Boys? As if we’re twelve?

  They both looked at William immediately. Bobby was much more nervous than Carson. He stammered, “Oh, uh… no, sir. No problems here. Nope. Why would there be a problem?”

  Apparently we are twelve .

  William glanced suspiciously between the two of them. Carson just rolled his eyes at Bobby. “It was nothing, sir,” he mumbled at William.

  “Yeah,” Bobby said. “It was nothing. Kind of like an inside joke. You wouldn’t get it. Ahaha. Funny, huh, Carson?” He nudged Carson with his elbow lightly.

  Carson gritted his teeth and looked at Bobby. He snapped, “Shut up, Bobby.”

  Bobby sucked his lips in and nodded at Carson as he wrung his hands roughly.

  “Wow,” William said, shifting his weight a bit closer to Margaret. Carson was all too happy to notice her subconsciously shift her weight away from him. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

  Bobby answered for Carson, and Carson just stared at him the whole time he spoke, fighting the urge to tell him again to shut up. “No, not harsh. You see, it’s just our friend dynamic. Don’t worry about us, officer. We’re a-okay! Ha, ha! All good, sir.” He saluted him, to top it off.

  William hesitated. “You don’t seem okay, kid,” he said to Bobby.

  “He isn’t,” Carson remarked. The difference in demeanor between Bobby and Carson was palpable. “But it’s not really of concern. Right now, he’s just wound up. Too much cake.”

  Bobby bit his lip hard and mumbled out an “mm-hmm” while nodding at the officer.

  William looked suspicious of them still, but he didn’t seem to care enough to pursue their case anymore. He looked away from them, at Margaret, and said, “I have to leave now. I’ll be seeing you later.” He took too many seconds to look over her petite frame. Heat shot through Carson. He wished Bobby would elbow Officer Prick who was sizing up Margaret worse than Carson ever had... in public, that is. No one could count any of the private exchanges between the two of them, since no one knew of them.

  Margaret smiled her people-pleasing smile again. “Have a good evening, William.”

  He grinned widely. He was too happy. Carson despised it. “You, too, my lady.” He bowed his head to the duchess, and then— finally! —he walked away from the group.

  Bobby let out a heavy exhale, and Fiona gave him a stern look before asking, “What was that, Robert Collins? Are you hiding something or what?”

  Robert? The hell?

  “Oh, good point, FiFi,” Kelly joined. “I guess he was kind of acting weird.”

  Everyone ignored Kelly. Bobby looked just as confused to hear Fiona call him by his real name as Carson had been, but he managed to answer anyway. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Officers just make me nervous.”

  It wasn’t a bad answer, so Carson nodded his agreeance at Fiona. “Oh, yeah. You don’t remember? Bobby’s always had a problem around officers.” He was making stuff up now. “It’s strange, seeing as we were always friends and my father’s an officer.”

  “Yep. Real weird,” agreed Bobby with a too-gleeful nod.

  Fiona rolled her eyes at them. “You know what, I don’t actually want to know what the two of you are hiding.”

  “Fiona,” someone said from a table several yards from them, a man who Carson vaguely recognized as her father. Without a departing word, she turned and left the three of them standing there. Kelly followed her for whatever reason with a skip in her step and didn’t return.

  Within a few short minutes, Bobby’s mother interrupted them and insisted on introducing him to a “really nice young lady” that had just moved to their city from the Province of Kaitos. She thought Bobby might “really hit it off with her,” and he groaned as she dragged him away by his shirt collar something about her not understanding what his type was at all and how she had horrible taste in women with the potential to be his wife.

  “Should I walk away, too?” said Carson. They were out of earshot of anyone that wanted to eavesdrop.

  “In one minute, yes,” Margaret said, nodding and glancing around the room just the same as he. They played the part of inconspicuous lovers well. It was the only way they’d gotten away with what they had done for so long.

  “Sixty seconds and counting,” he commented.

  “Tonight.” It was all she said, but Carson didn’t need much information to know what she meant.

  He whispered, “If that’s what you want.”

  Th
ey made eye contact for only a couple of seconds. “Just one more night,” she said. Then she bowed her head in the way that said goodbye, and Carson returned it with an even more respectful bow fit for the duchess.

  He said quietly while bowing his head to her, “As my lady wishes.”

  Without another glance, they walked away from each other.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  There hardly was any breeze that night, of which Carson was extremely grateful. Part of him thought that maybe that meant Anem wasn’t angry at him for his sins. Perhaps everything they knew as sin was not sin at all—at least not to the extent it was taught. Carson was sure that there were things that were wrong, but he wondered how it measured against other sins to Anem. Surely, relations with one woman whom he loved, was not as wrong as, say, murder to the just goddess.

  Not two seconds after rapping slightly on her window did Margaret swing back the curtains and undo the latch. “Finally,” she breathed, swinging her legs over the windowsill, fully dressed, burgundy cloak and all. She gestured for Carson to assist her out of the window, which without half a second of hesitation, he did. “C’mon.” She grabbed his hand and started pulling him southeast, not quite in the direction of the old neighbor’s stable.

  Carson was puzzled for only a moment concerning Margaret’s behavior. She wasn’t always one for leading the way, nor for planning much of anything. She always left that to Carson. Sure, it was true that she was the one that kissed him first when they were fifteen, but even then, she allowed him to take the lead when he showed interest in doing so.

  Margaret was a curious girl, Carson had thought years ago when they first started being so secretive with each other. She was confident enough to express how she felt without much talk between them prior and later risking rejection by initiating a kiss, but she was always more than willing to hand the reins over to Carson. She preferred not being in control, he had quickly realized, but if she wanted things a certain way, she had no qualms about taking back the reins.