“I was stripped of my Luminary identity and told my baby would be considered filius nullius unless I married Doug and you became a plebeian. A normal lay person,” she explains.
I arch a brow. “So, I was either to be a bastard or a pleb.”
She smiles softly. “You are grasping this a lot quicker than most would.”
“I’m not sure about that. My head is mush right now.” I rub a tense spot between my brows. “If you and Dad weren’t in love, like you told me, why did you marry him? You could’ve co-parented.”
“Yes, but then you would’ve been expected to work as a grunt when you came of age. It’s kind of like a punishment on the child for being a bastard. Because I married Doug, you were considered more respected, I suppose.” She purses her lips and grimaces. “It’s such bullshit, but I did what I could to protect you from this life. As a plebeian, you had no inherited rights, and there was no expectation.”
“You sacrificed your happiness to free me from obligation.”
Her hazel eyes pin me in place. “It wasn’t a chore, Ashley. Yes, I was forced to work for The Luminaries, and they still controlled many aspects of my life, but at least I was freed from a life of hell with that prick.” Her eyes harden.
“Who was he? The man you were supposed to marry?”
She brushes hair back off her face. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Anger rushes to the surface. “Why won’t you tell me? We agreed no more secrets.”
“He isn’t a secret. He’s a monster I try to forget,” she whispers.
I drop it, for now, but only because of the look of sheer torment on her face. I am sensing there is a lot more she hasn’t said.
She stands. “I want you to know I don’t regret what I did. My only regret is that I wasn’t there for you in the way I should have been. I wasn’t unhappy, Ashley. Doug is a wonderful man, and he’s my best friend. I couldn’t have picked anyone better to be your father. He readily agreed after I gave him a basic explanation, knowing what he was giving up.”
I push air out of my mouth as I climb to my feet. “This is a lot to take in. I’m feeling overwhelmed.”
“I know.” She glances at her watch. “Time is ticking. We need to hurry. I have to prepare you before they arrive.”
An icy chill creeps up my spine. “The Luminaries are coming here tonight?”
She nods, linking her fingers in mine. “It’s all part of the ritual. I must formally present you to them.”
“And then what?”
“Then you’ll spend the night in the ancestors’ room cleansing your soul before the ceremony tomorrow.”
ChapterThirty-One
Ashley
Istill have a ton of questions, but I don’t have the brain capacity to handle any more tonight, so I’m quiet as Mom helps me to prepare, listening to what she tells me about the process without interrupting her.
We’re in one of the rooms at the back of the ceremonial hall that has been transformed into a bathroom-slash-beauty room. Although it has the stone walls and ceiling like the rest of the place, everything else is modernized. A bright light hangs overhead, and there is an abundance of electrical sockets and equipment. Propped against the wall is a spa bed, and on the other side is a hairdresser station with a round mirror, comfy adjustable chair, and a sink. The other side of the room hosts a toilet, shower, and a massive tub Mom had me soaking in at first.
Every hair on my body has been waxed, my nail polish removed, and my nails cut shorter. I only protest when she applies a color remover to my hair. “Silver-purple hair will not be acceptable. You need to be in the most natural raw state for initiation when you offer yourself in obedience and loyalty.”
A scowl automatically appears on my face.
Ignoring my obvious distaste, she continues, “Appearances matter to The Luminaries. You are one of us now, and you need to present yourself accordingly. Both in how you look and how you conduct yourself.”
I’m thinking Julia must not have gotten that memo. For sure, shelooksthe part. She’s always groomed to within an inch of her life. I have seen her parading all over campus in the most ridiculous outfits. But she doesn’tactthe part. She’s an idiot. People only tolerate her because of who her father is.
The Luminaries are insane if they think I’m going to change who I am just to appease them. I don’t care what Mom says. I already know they can’t kill me. My Luminary blood and status protect me now, so they can go fuck themselves if they think I’m going to dress like Campus Barbie.
“Bree dyed her hair blue,” I say, stating the obvious. “If she’s able to do it and she’s more important than me, why can’t I keep my hair like this?”
“Bree’s mother didn’t christen her a ‘problem child’ for no reason. Dying her hair blue is the least of her parents’ worries,” she says, applying the treatment to my hair whether I like it or not.
