Page 132 of Outcast’s Vow

“Yes, you’re framing it that way,” she says, “but let’s frame it from the Castaways’ perspective. They wanted to test his loyalty to them. He failed that test.”

“Because he valued me above them,” I reply. “That’s what I told Father.”

Mother pauses.

“He wasn’t the right man for you, Sylvie. You’ll have to do what Elwood says.”

“Why, though? I’m an adult. I can make my own choices.”

What am I saying? It’s clear I’m merely playing at being an adult.

“You know why, Sylvie,” Mother says. “You’ve always known why. You can’t live like other people. You can’t have the luxury of independence when you’re the daughter of a Supreme Elder. You get so many privileges and advantages, so you have to ignore ideas about your own passions and follow what’s required of you.”

The words she’s saying sound so polished. Rehearsed. These are words she’s been fed and regurgitated for years. For her whole life.

This is the script that’s going to be lodged deep in my own throat soon enough.

“Is that what you did?” I ask her. “Ignore your own ideas? Ignore your freedom?”

There’s a tightening around her lips. A thought that has been hiding away for a long time. A little spark of doubt.

“It is,” Mother replies. “However hard that is for you to hear, however hypocritical you think this is, however much that goes against some modern notions, it’s what I’ve done.”

“But that’s not what I want for myself.”

Mother reaches out and takes my hand.

“I’m sorry, Sylvie, but it doesn’t matter what you want. Your father is doing this to keep you safe from the other Elders. They would’ve torn you down with your husband without hesitation if he hadn’t stopped them. He’s the only one stopping them.”

“He said he would find another man for me.”

“Yes.”

“Another man for me to marry.”

“Yes, he will.”

“And I won’t get a say,” I mutter. “I won’t get the chance to choose my own life. I’ve got no control over what happens to me. What’s the point of it all, then?”

Mother’s hand squeezes tight.

“This is not a bad life,” she whispers.

I pull away from her and her hand.

“Really, Mother? It’s not a bad life? Look at it. What about your wants? Your needs? When you took part in the Chase all those years ago, did you knowingly trade all of that in for this? Would you do it all over again if you had the chance? Would you relive this life you want for me?”

Mother turns her head away from me. She doesn’t meet my eye. She can’t confess the truth. She can’t admit she’s led an empty existence.

She swallows.

I feel so sorry for her.

I want to hug her. Embrace her. Let her cry.

But that’s not what my family does. That would be an alien act.

Still turned away from me, Mother has a moment of silence, and then she gets up, and she leaves my room without a word, my door remaining open behind her.