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Nadia
“The chairman of Atlas has been trying to speak with you, Council Leader Howls,” I say, walking quickly to talk with him before the start of the next meeting.
“About?”
“Decreasing tensions. He wants this war to cease completely so he claims.”
Newman scowls, rubbing the side of his temples roughly as he walks.
“That’s his choice.” he pushes past me, combing his hands through his hair in frustration. “But I will not step down from my position to compromise with him. He wants to make some radical changes and tear down the walls of the first province, fine. But don’t drag me into this. Tell him to stop contacting me. Immediately.”
He rushes into the meeting room, leaving me behind as I write. I bite back a scowl.
“Useless,” I mutter under my breath. This whole council is useless. They never take any risks, not even the necessary ones. How could they ever expect to change? To grow? Even with the gifted at stake, they sit around and do nothing.
This meeting is just like the others before it. More arguing. No solutions. Sneers and stares targeted my way when Howls wasn't looking.
I linger after it’s over, when everyone except for Newman is gone.
“You look like you have something to say,” he grunts.
“I want a seat at the council.”
Howl coughs violently, as though my words startled him deeply.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’ve been loyal. Exceptional at my job. I didn’t ask for this position just to be some - some notetaker. I’ve worked hard just to get here. I’m a good soldier, a good speaker. If the fate of the war is now involving the fate of the Alloy, I deserve a voice too. I know you look down on me because of my status, because of my gender and age. But I’m smarter than your whole council combined. You know this. That’s why you chose me.”
Newman looks at me the way a wild cat does a small fish. I suppress a shiver, the feeling of impending danger. I have to be tougher than my wits right now.
“Do you know why I offered you this position, intern?” He asks, his voice cold. “Because I knew your maturity far surpassed your age. And because I knew you were very aware that actions have consequences. And that most every decision requires sacrifice.” I bite my tongue, bite it hard enough to taste blood.
“That being said, I did not give you this out of the pure kindness of my heart. Some things require compensation. Understand?”
My hands are shaking. Not of fear, but of disgust. Anger. Because I do understand. I understand very well what he’s telling me. How foolish I was to believe he offered me this position out of respect or recognition.
“I do.”
“Good,” he says, smiling coldly down at me. “So tell me, my intern-” he says, walking over to close the door. The handle locks with a click. Something heavy drops in my stomach. “Just how important this position is to you.”
The first night was the hardest. I did not cry, but oh how I wanted to. I tried to pretend it was Aoife unbuttoning my shirt, sliding off my skirt. But it was impossible. Aoife would never be so rough. She would never be so cruel.
When I got back to my room, I scrubbed my skin pink in the grueling heat of a long shower. I could still feel him, touching me all over. Like a million fire ants biting at my skin. I puked into the toilet, hard enough to see stars. But I did not scream or cry or beg for help.
I showed up to work the next morning, sat down at the ninth chair at the round table for the very first time, and did not so much as look at Newman the entire day.
Everyone whispered harshly around me. A woman on the council? A woman born into poverty to boot. But I paid them no mind. I paid no one any mind. This is just another rung on the ladder. Another step toward the top. Toward change. Toward a better world.
That night, a bang on my door shakes me awake. “Nadia! Nadia!”
I don’t answer. I wrap myself further in the sheets that I’ve stolen from my mattress. I don’t want her to see me like this. Weak. The door unlocks and Aoife pushes through.
“Nadia, where-” Her words fall short when she sees me, bundled on the floor by my bed, my mascara smeared messily around my eyes. “Oh my god,” she said, her voice choked up before she even got close enough to see the worst of the damage.
“Go away-” My voice comes out as a whisper, no strength left in me to back it up.
Aoife only runs over to me, wraps her arms around me tight. She doesn’t ask me what happened. She doesn’t need to. She’s too attentive for her own good.
And I wish I could be stronger but all I can do is fight back tears as she holds me tight, shielding me from the world.
Each time after that, I learned to hide my weakness and fear and disgust, the same way I did as a child. But this time I did it, not because I had no other choice, but because I knew, from the start, that I will do whatever it takes to reach the top. To save the gifted. To make a refuge for the outcasted. To change. To protect To do what my mother never could.
***
“Councilman?” Silva sputters. I sigh, unable to get Lysander’s words out of my head, yet again.
“You may have the others fooled,” he whispered. “But I see right through you. I know what you did. You don’t deserve to be here, little girl. You’ll never be one of us.”
I shake myself out of it, especially as Aoife squeals and slaps my back in some show of excitement.
“I knew you could do it, Nadia!” she yells. Both Silva and I attempt to shush her, but to no success.
“You make it sound so grand,” I mumble. “I’m still only observing and keeping notes. They haven’t even added my name to the papers yet. It’s unheard of, having nine council members, ten including the council leader.”
“Well not anymore!” Aoife boasts proudly. She lifts me up in her arms and twirls me around like I weigh nothing. I yelp, swatting at her to put me down.
Silva only watches, her eyebrows creased in a full-faced frown.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Nat?”
“It’s what I must do in order to get respect around here.”
“But that’s not the only reason is it?” Silva asks slowly. I shoot daggers her way over Aoife’s shoulder. But Silva doesn’t flinch. She only frowns.
“Oh stop being such a worrywart, Silva!” Aoife giggles. “Nadia can handle herself. Now she can shove it to the Man!”
“The man?”
“The Man!”
I try to return a smile, but the rolling in my stomach grows heavier. A gnawing feeling that all my secrets are starting to rot inside, poisoning me to my very core.
***
It’s been three months since becoming a council member. I’ve finally earned some respect from the others. They finally listen when I talk, treat me like their fellow council instead of some little girl.
But progress is slow. And there are still some who refuse to even look my way when I speak, particularly Harris.
“He’s just a misogynistic piece of shit,” Aoife once told me. I can’t say I disagree. But it would be nice to get him to look my way. One day. Just to see the look on his face when I surpass him.
I toss my uniform over the back of my couch, wandering to the window that oversees the training yard. I can see her from here, her black uniform now decorated in three golden stripes, proof of just how quickly Aoife is climbing the ranks. She deserves every promotion she gets. I can see it in her eyes how much she loves it, and how much her students love her. Soon she’ll be an instructor for the whole division, not just the rookies. I know it.
I sigh and sink down into the bed, tensing when I feel something crunch and crinkle beneath my body. I fish out whatever I just sat on, finding a folded piece of scrap paper in my hands. Delicately, I unfold it, revealing a note.
Meet me at the pods at 5pm tomorrow. I know you’re going to say no but you can’t refuse!!!! It’s important! Love, A
I bring my fist up to my mouth, biting hard on my knuckles to keep from smiling like an idiot. I reread the end over and over. Love, A.
I shoot up from my bed and walk over to the wall-length window, sneaking a glance at Aoife. As though feeling my eyes on her, she looks up, catches my gaze. She flashes me an extraordinary smile, one that turns my insides to liquid.
Aoife winks before turning her attention back to her students. I couldn’t refuse, even if I wanted to.
I’m too far gone now.
***
The name card in front of my seat reading Nadia L. has been snapped right down the middle. Whore is scribbled all over it in giant, sloppy letters. Sterling Harths to my right is poorly hiding a cruel snicker when he sees me. Lysander, to my left, does not so much as look my way. Still, I know he had a part to play in this. A big one.
I don’t let anything show on my face. Like any other day, I gather my composure and sit upright in my seat. I stuff the name plaque in my bag, hoping to fix it later.
“Morning councilman,” Sterling mocks with a bitter grin. “Sleep well in the council leader’s bed last night?” I dust my pencil skirt off before crossing my legs.
“Very mature, Harths,” I say with an indifferent sigh. I can’t let it get to me. I won’t let them win.
“She’s right, Harths,” Lysander replies sharply. “Don’t be so childish.” His lips curl into a crude smile. “Obviously she didn’t sleep at all.”
“Slut,” Sterling spits.
The door slams open but even the council leader’s presence does nothing to lessen the council’s venomous laughter. Newman doesn’t so much as look my way, let alone try to save me from them. I should know better. I have no allies here.
“The Atlas chairman has been assassinated,” his voice booms. Only now does the laughter cease, replaced by an uncomfortable silence.
“It was bound to happen,” Lysander says with cold indifference. “He’s a radical. Not everyone thinks the borders should be opened, unlike him.”
“We didn’t even have to lift a finger,” Sterling chuckles.
“It’s no laughing matter,” Adonai says across the table.
“What does this mean for us? For the existing tensions between our provinces?” I ask. The room goes quiet.
“Well,” Howls says with a long, exasperated sigh. “He was the only thing keeping the fragile peace between us. It’s only a matter of time before the dormant war erupts again.”
“So we build our walls higher,” Harris says.
“And what of our colonies? We leave them to die? You rather we sit back while Atlas takes our land?” I challenge.
“It won’t get to that,” he says, calmly. “And why waste our resources? Our mainland is in no imminent danger.”
“You really think we can hide from this war? There is talk of a mortal who aims to sit on that throne. What happens when he pushes past our borders?” I seethe. “What happens when he grows intimidated by us, by a refuge of predominantly gifted citizens?”
“She’s right,” the chairman nods, slowly. “But, councilwoman, what is your solution? You want us to fight?”
“I want us to protect,” I snap. “We have the resources. We have the soldiers, the finances, the aid.”
“Wrong,” Howls says, shutting my voice down immediately. “We have limited resources. And limited soldiers. Why should we be on the offense if we are not yet affected by this? We cannot be too rash about our spendings. Rumors are just rumors after all.”
“But what if they’re not?” I shout. “What if Atlas is finding a way into our fronts as we speak?”
“Then we come up with a plan then!” Newman’s voice rings across the room. “You’re far too rash with our assets. Need I remind you that our army is a quarter the size of theirs?”
“It’s safer now to stand down,” Adonai agrees.
“And do nothing?” I ask.
“We will provide aid to the colonies that need it,” Newman says, like that would console me. “You’re too young to be so hasty.”
When the meeting is dismissed, I’m the first out of the room. I’m calm and collected until I reach my room, where I practically rip my business clothes off my body. I crush my pillow to my chest and scream. I scream until tears prick at the corners of my lashes and my throat is scratched raw.
I scrub the makeup from my face in the sink, change into my more comfortable black sweats, and stare at myself in the mirror. Even despite the rough muscle that pokes beneath my shirt and sleeves, my face still has a gentle beauty to it. I now look so similar to my mother and I hate it. If I wasn’t beautiful would the council finally take me seriously?
My eyes travel down, down to my chest and curved hips, my rounded thighs. I despise all of it. I despise the looks I get because of it. The way all the men around me see me as a slab of meat, an object.
I scramble for my broken name tag and shove the two pieces under the hot water, scrubbing hard at the permanent marker. I scrub as hard as I can, until my fingers are scratched and peeling. But the vile words still show through.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I see myself in the mirror. Weak. Weak. Weak.
I shout, throwing the pieces into the trash with a brewing anger. I shake my bun from my head, viciously combing my hair from their silk ringlets. Everything would be so much easier if I was just a goddamn man.
But I’m not. So I have to do everything the hard way.
Fine. Whatever it takes. Whatever it fucking takes.
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