Then he nods. And nods again. And that second nod comes with a small smile.
Not a warning, then. A welcome.
Isabella squeezes my hand and I squeeze hers back. Because she’s sweating like crazy and her palm is all clammy. We look at each other. Leela and Elizabeth are already entering the tomb.
Then we nod and walk forward as a team.
Whatever happens now, at least I have her on my side. And she has me.
The inside of the tomb is small. And I should’ve known that because the outside of the tomb is small too.
But I quickly realize that this is just a vestibule. Because there is a long, gradual, pretty elegant staircase with the same width as the building itself that leads down into a lower level.
Leela and Elizabeth are already descending the stairs, but Isabella lets me pause and look around, maybe remembering her first time inside the tomb.
The lobby—because I guess that’s what it is—is made of dark gray stone walls lined with flaming torches and a dark gray marble floor with a repeating pattern of gold inlay depicting the High Court fighting lions.
A massive gold chandelier hangs from the center of the tomb and when I look up at the pitched ceiling, I realize that it has been painted. Swans on Monrovian Lake with the lakeside mansions in the background. It’s old. I think. There are soot stains from the torches. And some of the paint is cracking.
“We need to go,” Isabella says.
I nod and we start down the steps. They are shallow steps, so you immediately want to take them like four at a time, but they are also long, so you can’t. And it feels like it takes forever to get to the next level where Leela and Elizabeth are waiting in front of a guarded door.
This bodyguard isn’t dressed like the others I’ve met and seen. They all wear black suits.
This guy is wearing blue and gold. Which is appropriate, since those are High Court colors. But it looks very… ceremonial.
“At least it’s not black and red,” Isabella whispers.
I nod in agreement. And then smile. Because it’s like she’s reading my mind.
The door opens and we follow Leela and Elizabeth into another room. A much larger room with a peculiar fountain built into the floor at the far end.
“This way,” Leela says. And then she is leading us through yet another door. How big is this place? And it’s all underground? Weird.
The room beyond is another spa, like the one I was in earlier in the town of Monrovia. Not exactly the same—everything in the first one was white and bright. And this one is dark because of the stone walls. And there are no tubs.
This is when I realize that Leela and Elizabeth are also wearing the same dress.
“What’s with the twinsies?” I ask, then regret my question when Elizabeth sneers at me from over her shoulder.
This does not deter Leela. “It symbolizes partnership, Cadee. When the members see Elizabeth wearing my dress, they know she is mine. And when your friends on campus saw you wearing Isabella’s dress, well…” She pauses. “They might not understand the exact meaning, but subconsciously they do.”
I think about that for a moment. “Oh.” Isabella and I shoot each other a wide-eyed glance.
“Did Isabella explain what will happen tonight?”
“No,” I say. “She told me the basics. But if there’s… I don’t know, some kind of ritual? I don’t know about it.”
“Good.” Leela smiles. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
I shoot Isabella another look, but Leela is already guiding Elizabeth over to one of the corners of the room. “Undress her, Isabella. And put on her Maiden’s gown.”
Isabella looks at me with panic. “I’m sorry,” she whispers softly.
I whisper back, “It’s fine. At least I won’t be naked, right?”
She shoots me one of those clenched-teeth grins and I’m still trying to figure out if that was a, ‘Yep. You totally lucked out’ look or one of those, ‘It only gets worse from here’ looks.
“Hurry up now,” Leela says, spurring Isabella into motion.
She leads me over to my corner of the room where a white garment is neatly folded on a long bench. Then she steps behind me and begins unlacing my corset.
“I’m sorry, Cadee,” she whispers again.
“It’s fine,” I reply. “No big deal.”
When she gets the laces untied, I feel like I can finally take a real breath for the first time in hours. Then she unzips the skirts and slips the dress down my body. From there it just falls off me and I step out, wearing nothing but my panties.
When I turn to Isabella, she’s staring at me.
“What?”
She shakes herself out of it. “Nothing.” Then takes a deep breath, while trying to avert her eyes.
“Isabella. Relax. You saw me naked like four hours ago. It’s fine.”
“I know.” But her words are rushed and do not come out with much confidence. “You have to take your underwear off too.”
“Help her out,” Leela calls. “She will be catering to you for years to come, Isabella. This is her night.”
I look over and see Leela bending down in front of Elizabeth, dragging her panties down her legs.
Elizabeth is crying. And now that I can actually see her in a bit of light, I realize there is a bright red slap mark across her face. Up until this moment I hadn’t pegged Leela as a slapper. But maybe it wasn’t Leela? Maybe that’s Jack’s handprint on Elizabeth’s face?
“Quickly,” Leela encourages.
Isabella nods.
“I’ll do it, Isabella. It’s fine. You don’t have to—”
“She does!” Leela snaps. “Now do your job, Isabella.”
Um. Yeah. I’m starting to see the slapper in Leela.
Isabella frowns and kneels in front of me. Her hands are shaking when she reaches for the elastic of my underwear. I grab one of them and hold it. She shakes her head quickly, but I don’t let go until she looks at me. “Isabella, it’s fine.” I barely say the words. I don’t need bitchy Leela yelling at us again. “It’s totally fine.”
She’s breathing hard though and suddenly, she starts to make sense to me.
She is gay. But she’s also in denial. Hardcore denial. Like, I’m starting to think that someone is bullying her behind the scenes.
Her father, probably. Or her mother.
It’s certainly not Cooper.
“You don’t understand,” Isabella whispers. “This part is about me, Cadee. Not you.”
“Isabella.” We both turn to Leela. Her word wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. “Now.”
Jesus Christ. I thought Leela was kinda cool. But obviously not.
Isabella turns back to me. Her face is just inches from my private parts. She holds her breath and then slides my underwear down my legs. I step out of them and she quickly picks up the dress and begins to hang it.
But Leela comes over and without warning, or asking, slips her fingers between Isabella’s legs. Then withdraws them and holds them up to the light.
They are glistening wet.
Isabella begins to cry. Small, stifled sobs, like she’s trying to hide her shame and dismay.
“What the fuck?” I say. And I am loud as well as sharp. “What the hell are you doing, Leela? Don’t touch her like that.”