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Perhaps my father has taught me too well.
However, if there were a day for me to rebel, it would be today. Because today, much to my chagrin, is the day that I meet my True Partner.
After my shower, I drag myself over to one of the vanities stationed around the locker room. Since True Partner services are considered monumental occasions, I’m not surprised there’s no one else in the training facility. It’s nice, having the whole locker room to myself.
As I look in the mirror, I rub my tired hazel eyes and stare. I would give anything to skip over today.
With a sigh, I grab the station’s hairdresser, a tool enchanted with magic to style hair anyway a person would like. I roll my eyes at the notion that even though we’re not allowed to use magic, the Elders can benefit from selling tools forged with it. I set it to ‘barrel curls’ and run it over my locks.
Within minutes, my damp wavy black tendrils fall in polished curls against my chest, slightly shorter pieces in the front grazing the soft jawline of my oval-shaped face. I may not agree with the Elders’ methods, but damn is this a good tool.
When I glance at the clock, I know I need to hurry up. If I’m not out of the room in fifteen minutes, my father will be banging down the door.
I quickly lather red lipstick on my full lips and place a bit of shimmer on the tip of my bulbous nose. With a hurried swipe of mascara over my long lashes, I scamper off to the changing rooms to get into my service outfit. The dress is a conservativeeggplant purple (tocompliment that lovely olive skin tone from your father, my mother always says) knee-length dress with a thin gold ribbon around the waist and cowl neckline. It’s paired with a sensible pair of black ballet flats and black tights. A usual choice for service.
Accompanying my outfit is a soft gold headscarf, which I secure loosely around my head. Headscarves are required for service as a sign of respect to the Elders, though some women will also wear them daily, as a way to protect their energy. Men also have a version available to them, for service and casualwear alike, though it sits atop their head akin to a hat. I sigh and quickly dress, almost running into my father as I rush out the locker room doors.
He raises his eyebrow at me, staring pointedly at his watch. “Just in time. Any later, and your mother would have had both our heads.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I roll my eyes and lock arms with him so that we can walk the few blocks back to our house.
When we step through the front door that leads directly into the kitchen, my brother, Cyrus, and sister, Anita, don’t even notice our entrance, too busy flicking crumbs at one another. My mother is looking at us pointedly as she places plates of seasoned eggs with flatbread and cheese, on the table for us, and then moves to fill mugs of coffee.
“Hurry and eat, we’ll be late,” she snaps, taking her own seat to finish her half-eaten breakfast once she’s given us our drinks.
My father looks properly chastised, which I find funny. He’s a rather burly man—tall and muscular with a thick scar running through the dark hair of his left eyebrow from a training accident—and there’s nobody that can make him quake in his boots quite like my mother. Though they were an arranged partnership, just like everyone in the Society, they fell in love quickly. A testament to the system, the Elders would say.
I love my family, but we aren’t the closest bunch, my father being the closest relationship I have between them (and that’s mostly through hand-to-hand combat). I love my siblings to pieces, but they are closer in age and have an envious bond that I’m not necessarily privy too. I love my mother too, but we don’t have much in common. After she had kids, she chose to stay home, as is common with partners of top officials. She loves it, being able to spend so much time with my siblings and actively acting as a member of the Society school board, something she’s quite good at, but it’s not a life I can see for myself. It’s not a life I will have, though it’s a very real possibility for my True Partner.
My mother clears her throat at my siblings, and they stop messing around, going back to eating their meals. I quietly sit at my place and sip my coffee while gazing out the window.
“So, Amelia. Today’s the big day. Have you chosen a dress for this evening?” my father asks without looking up from his food. He’s not one for conversations around such topics, but with the importance of this day I’m not surprised he’s putting in a bit more effort, especially in front of my mother. He knows how excited she is for me.
I nod, drizzling some honey we keep on the table on a piece of my flatbread. “Yes, father. Mother picked up a dress from Suzana’s last week”.
He nods once, his gaze on his meal. “Ah, good. Finish up your breakfast so we can leaveon time.” He looks at me pointedly and goes back to his coffee.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, since technically he was late, too.
“Yeah Amelia, don’t want to be late for your future partner.” Anita smirks at me. She’s nineteen and doesn’t have to worry about such things just yet, instead finding my predicament to be comedic. Cyrus is even less interested at sixteen, but sees noreason to badger me on it. He’s too focused on his studies to care much about binding ceremonies.
Being younger than me, my siblings aren’t required to follow in my father’s footsteps like I am. Anita just found out her work role last year, where she was assigned to tailoring. She’s spent the majority of this year as an apprentice over at Suzana’s, our local dress shop. Cyrus hasn’t gotten his role yet, but he’s always had a knack for science. If he’s not positioned in a lab, he’s bound to be assigned as a professor.
I give Anita the stink eye and down my coffee, ready to get this day over with. “Done. Let’s go.”
The walk to service is quick. All top officials lived within walking distance of important Society sites, such as the service cathedral, training center, and the Top Elder’s home. It’s necessary in case there is ever a breach of the Society’s protection field. If such a thing were to occur, all officials would be required to defend our Elders to the death. Therefore, it makes the most sense to live nearby.
“Amelia!” My friend Imogen is waving and smiling at me, the sun gleaming against her pale skin. She runs over to me as quickly as she can in her kitten heels, white-blonde hair bouncing beneath her blue headscarf, matching pleated skirt waving behind her.
Her grin widens when she reachesme, azure eyes alight with excitement. Imogen is more excited than I am to meet my True Partner; she’s a romantic at heart and has always been a big promoter of the practice. She is twenty-five and therefore always states that she will live vicariously through me while she impatiently awaits her turn.
She grips my arm, pulling me closer. “Are you so excited?! I certainly am, I bet he’ll besohandsome!” She’s practically jumping out of her shoes.
I smile at her and pat her hand. “Sure am, Imogen. You know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
When she squeals, I know she didn’t catch onto the sarcasm in my tone. Probably for the best, as I don’t want to upset her. Even though this is not important to me, I know it is to her. “Let’s go grab a seat.”
When we walk inside the building, we quickly find Olivia and our other friend, Caleb, seated a few rows back from the front. They wave us over to two seats they saved.
