Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1004(@200wpm)___ 803(@250wpm)___ 669(@300wpm)
The outfit is over the top and far outside the parameters of tradition. Hell, just the fact that they are here, in my family home, implies a level of audacity I’ve never witnessed before from a Matron and the fact that they are blocking my way upstairs to check on my mother is a whole next level of insubordination.
“Answer me,” I demand, looking the old one directly in the eyes.
She offers me a small smile, then folds her hands at her waist and bows her head as she speaks. “Your mother belongs to us now.”
“What?” I blink at her, confused. “What are you talking about?”
The ancient Matron looks up at me once again, her eyes patient and soft. Like she is about to explain something very complicated to a small child. “It has never happened in your lifetime, so of course you are confused.”
“What has never happened? What the hell is going on?”
“The death of the Extraction Master, of course. Your mother was the Extraction Mistress. So naturally—”
“Wait.” I put up a hand to make her stop talking. “What do you mean Extraction Mistress? There’s no such title.”
“Oh, but there is, boy. Every Master has a Mistress, doesn’t he?”
“Well…” I stop there. Because no. We don’t. Obviously. Since I am not married. And my mother is not a Mistress. She’s married, which means she’s a… I can’t even think the word that comes to mind. Because it suddenly makes perfect sense, but at the same time, it can’t be.
“Of course you don’t have a Mistress, Finn Scott. Yet, that is. You’ve only had the position for a single day. But you will. All Extraction Masters must have a Mistress. How do you think we get the next generation?”
“Well…” I say again. Then stop. Again.
“Never mind all that. We can discuss your options at a later date. Once you’ve had time to mourn and settle in.”
“What does any of this have to do with my mother?”
“Finn.”
I look up, startled at my mother’s voice. She’s on the landing between the first and second floors, her eyes bloodshot and tired-looking. Her smile, meant only for me and only as a pacifying gesture, is small. Barely enough to lift up the corners of her mouth.
But the thing that really disturbs me about her right now is what she’s wearing. Because it’s the exact same outfit as the ancient Matron standing in front of me. “Mother. What is going on? Why are you dressed like that?”
My mother’s gaze finds the old one’s. “Can you wait outside for a moment? I’ll just need a minute.”
The old Matron doesn’t answer, just nods her head and motions for the rest of her group to leave.
When they’re gone, I walk up to the stairs and offer my hand to my mother. She takes it and allows me to help her down. Then we turn and face each other. She has aged since I last saw her, which was only a couple weeks ago when I came for dinner.
I don’t know what to say, and she knows this, so she starts first. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to talk before the funeral. It all happened…” She sighs. “It all happened so fast. And then the bells started ringing and there was just… no more time.” She gives me a little shrug.
“But what does all this mean, Mother? Why are you dressed like that ancient Matron?” Of course I know the answer. I just can’t seem to accept it.
“Because I am one of them, son. I was a Little Sister when your father became Extraction Master. He was about your age, in fact. That year the Choosing had a dual role. A courting for him so he could choose a suitable wife, and the Choosing, of course. And that is how you will experience it as well.” Her smile is bigger this time, showing me a little bit of her teeth even. Then her hands come up to the collar of my shirt and she straightens it, like I am a small boy once again.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you.”
She nods. “I did my job. My husband is gone and my son is grown. Now it’s your turn to start a new legacy.” Her smile grows even wider now. “With Clara.”
I let out a breath, and with this breath goes a lot of tension. “She’s not a Little Sister. She’s a Maiden.”
“It’s not how it’s normally done. But it’s not forbidden. The important thing is that your future wife will be one of the Chosen. And Clara is. Quite a fantastic one, actually.”
Now it’s my turn to smile. And in this moment, I think… maybe it’s all going to be OK? Maybe there’s a reason for all this pain and uncertainty? Maybe we really will get married, and have our own son, and I will turn into my father, and Clara will turn into my mother, and everything about this life will be just fine?