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Antonio shook his head. “I like driving myself. Besides, it’s less of a hassle if we go like this. The training center is a good three quarters of an hour away.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond, and walked over to a car the color of fresh cherries. It was bright enough to be considered tasteless. I shielded my eyes. “What about Javier and Manuel?”
“Get in, Carmen,” Antonio said irritably. “They will follow behind. They are already out front.”
I glared at him, but felt a measure of relief that the massive men would be nearby out there, in the Ciudad de Rubíes. “If it’s so dangerous for people to use my real name, why do you keep saying it?” I demanded as I crossed over to the passenger side of the car. It was precariously low to the ground, and I wondered how he ever took it anywhere with the bumpy roads of the Quinta Isla.
Primera Isla, I reminded myself.
Maybe the roads were in better condition here.
He raised an eyebrow as he looked at me over the car roof. “We are alone.”
I scoffed. “Servants are everywhere. I’ve heard they are trained to be invisible, but that doesn’t make them stop existing.”
“Of course they don’t. But we pay Trabajadores to make our lives better,” Antonio said as he pulled open the door. “To acknowledge them would be unkind because it puts them in a place where they do not belong.”
A bitter taste filled my mouth. “What an incredibly Élite thing to say. You forget I am not one of you.” I tore open the door and slid into the leather seat. The man next to me was rich, beautiful, and well-loved by the citizens of the Arrebol Commonwealth—both those he interacted with and spoke unkindly about.
His looks had spoiled his personality. Or maybe it was the other way around?
Antonio plopped down next to me. “You are right. You are not one of us… yet. I will say though, you are unlike any Artista woman I have ever met.”
“What do you know of those beneath you? Your compliments don’t have the effect on me that you wish for—I know that I am a dime a dozen. Talk to any girl in the performing class for more than ten minutes and you will find out that I am not the exception. Perhaps the Élites do not foster your females capacity to be interesting for narrow-minded Élite men.” My sarcasm was venomous. I slammed the door shut and crossed my arms. Though I was looking around the large garage, all I could see was Magda, Silvia, Maestra Cecelia, Gloria, and even Aurora. “I hope I never fully become one of you.”
I tried not to think of the ways I was already becoming similar. With my fine clothes, and talking down to Isolda. I hadn’t even started my classes with Señora Olguín yet.
Antonio laughed, but the sound was sour and twisted. “All right. I'll take it back.” A hand raked through his hair. Apparently he wasn’t done speaking. “What an incredibly Trabajador-like thing to say. You do not yet know how good this life can be.” He pressed a button and the engine purred to life. It was unlike any roaring car I’d heard so far. He clicked another button and one of the gate-like doors swung open.
I looked around at the exaggerated opulence. I thought for a few moments of the lonely house, and the miserable life of moves and countermoves. “From what I have seen so far, I am not half as impressed as you think I should be.”
Antonio made an annoyed sound but didn’t say anything further as we started down the road to a mysterious place where I would spend the next three months of my life training. My mood had completely gone to shit. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, let alone in the same room.
I stared out the window at the golden-green fields and old-stone fences. Being in this part of the Primera Isla was like stepping into a history book. I was torn between wanting to read all about it, and slamming it shut because of what it represented.
As I sat there, nestled into a leather seat wearing butter-soft exercise clothing, and my stomach full with rich food, I felt guilty.
Antonio was right. This life was comfortable, but the costs were too high. I had never been better taken care of physically, but I was more miserable than ever.
The speed of the car pressed my body back further into my seat and I snuck a glance at the man taking me to the training center. He was silently seething—a broody, young bastard.
For better or worse, we were stuck together for now.
But not forever.My lips curled up at the corners.
Chapter22
An Ode to Human History
The training center was located inside of the capital, Ciudad de Rubíes. When passing through the capital city two days before, I’d been half asleep. Now, I was fully awake, and the frenetic energy of the high-rise buildings, crowded streets, and fast-moving cars sucked me in instantly. As the last home of the line of kings, it was blend of both ancient and modern societies which now clashed together like a forced emulsion of oil and water, resulting in a glamorous contradiction.
Casas Grandes was obviously the inferior city when compared to this great ode to the richness of human history and innovation, but there was a familiar spark that seemed to only exist in places packed with humans.
For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt at ease. There was a car behind us with two men. I watched Javier and Manuel in the mirror. It was nice to be… protected.
Unfortunately, that ease subsided while I observed the people walking on the streets. Their clothes cut and tailored their silhouettes into sophistication. I wondered how a place like this existed with little trace of the Dregs or the working classes.
It wasn’t until the man at my side said, “You’ll smudge the windows,” that I realized how close I was to pressing my face into the glass.
