Elite -
Chapter Two
Sylvie spun toward the source of the cry just as it dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Anderson!” Bianca shrieked, batting him away in mock anger. “You scared me half to death!” She fanned her face wildly and landed one last smack on his arm for good measure.
“Did you think I was a dirty Rebel coming to steal you away?” Anderson teased and dropped down into the seat next to her. He brushed aside a strand of blonde hair that was just as disheveled as the rest of him. It stuck up at a variety of angles that were more than likely calculated despite their wild appearance. The tie to his suit hung undone on either side of his unbuttoned collar and his jacket was nowhere to be seen. With precision serving as the norm in New Eden, Anderson Kane took great pains to go against the grain. And it was probably the only reason Bianca had given him a second look.
“I wish the Rebels would come and take you away!” Bianca replied, but the flirty smile that played around her lips contradicted the seriousness of her request.
Anderson’s face contorted into feigned horror. “I’m hurt,” he said, dramatically clutching his chest. “I thought we were friends!” He struggled hard to maintain his solemn expression, but the hint of crinkle around his eyes proved he was losing the battle.
“Oh, you are,” Sylvie said, chiming in on the pretend lover’s quarrel. “Just imagine what she wishes upon her enemies.” Sylvie winked at Bianca, who tittered away as Anderson’s typically strong jaw fell slack at Sylvie’s words. A soft chuckle joined the laughter and Sylvie looked up to replace Davis Vine had joined the trio.
“Don’t worry, Anes,” he said, clapping an affectionate hand on Anderson’s shoulder. “If the Rebels take you, it would only be a matter of time before they brought you back. “ He smiled devilishly, satisfied with his own contribution to Anderson’s temporary torment and moved to plant a soft kiss on Sylvie’s cheek before claiming the seat by her side.
He was manicured to distraction, serving as a striking contrast to his untidy friend. His chestnut hair was swept back off of his chiseled face, his fair complexion highlighting every one of the dramatic angles. Clad in a custom-made suit, Davis’s broad shoulders and narrow waist gave a whole new meaning to the word “tailored.” The smile on his full lips deepened as he turned his attention to Sylvie alone. “You look lovely,” he said. The light of his own Eyepiece washed over her as he took her in slowly from head to toe. Reaching out, Davis looped one of Sylvie’s curls around his finger, toying with it fondly.
“Thank you,” Sylvie said and as politely as she could, she lifted her ebony lock out of Davis’s grasp, returning it to its place down her back. Davis dropped his hand dejectedly to his lap and tried to stifle his resolved sigh. Peering at him out of the corner of her eye, Sylvie felt a sting of guilt. It wasn’t that she wasn’t fond of Davis. With his undeniable good looks and volumes of potential, anyone would be a fool not to see his worth. It was just that Sylvie sometimes wished he didn’t like her so much.
His intensity was unnerving and it created a pit right in the middle of her stomach. Bianca had tried to convince her that it was just butterflies and that it was actually a good thing, but Sylvie knew her feeling had nothing to do with butterflies—or any other insect for that matter. This was something else
And it made her feel terrible.
Of course the dejected look on Davis’s face wasn’t helping either. Sylvie turned toward him, an apology ready on her lips when the speakers dotting the stage sprang to life. “Citizens of New Eden,” the announcer’s voice rang throughout the plaza. “Welcome to the Commemoration.” A loud roar of applause ended any individual conversations, drawing all eyes to the dais. Sylvie’s apology would have to wait.
Not pausing for the cheers to subside, the announcer continued. “It is with great pride,” he said taking full advantage of the microphone. “That I present to you your very own Premier, Reidan Price.” The cheers that had welcomed the mention of the Commemoration were a faint whisper to the ones that accompanied the introduction of Sylvie’s father. The entire courtyard rang out in a cacophony of acclamation.
There was no denying that Reidan Price was well loved—and not just by his daughter. Sylvie beamed proudly as her father clapped the announcer on the back and shook his hand before taking his place at the microphone. “Good evening,” he said, his powerful voice booming through the speakers. The rich, warm tone invited contented smiles to the faces of all who heard it. “Tonight marks the anniversary of the greatest event in our history. The Raising of the Wall.” Reidan lifted his hands over his head, his celebratory gesture beginning another wave of excitement.
“For ninety-nine years,” he resumed after the cries subsided. “It has served as a symbol for New Eden’s strength and supremacy amidst a world ruled by chaos. Never has there existed a society as great. Never before has a number so small been so mighty. New Eden is and shall remain a beckon for a greater tomorrow. A tomorrow in which justice is swift and loyalty is rewarded on the grandest of scales. I know, undoubtedly that the founders of our great state would glow with pride at all we have accomplished.” Another round of applause shattered the stillness of the crowd as each of the attentive faces flushed with delight.
None of them anticipated the “but” that Sylvie sensed was coming.
“But,” Reidan said as if on cue. “Despite all of our success, we must remain vigilant. The Rebels are as great a threat as ever and neutralizing those threats must always be at the forefront of our minds.” It was exactly the part of the speech that Sylvie had feared.
Casting a shadow on the night, her father’s grim message made even the sparkle of the cheery lights appear dimmer. It wasn’t so much the mention of serious things that bothered Sylvie—it was the one-foot-in-one-foot-out method in which they were handled. Either tonight was a celebration or a political discussion about the Rebel threat.
But it couldn’t be both.
And in trying to make it so, her father had created neither. The speech continued in a series of assurances and calls for support, but Sylvie had stopped listening. She fiddled idly with her hands as she practiced the scolding she would give her father the moment she got him alone. The reprimand wasn’t difficult to plan, especially considering this would be the 50th time she had said it. And just like the last forty-nine, Sylvie knew it would change nothing, but she had no intention of letting the opportunity to speak her mind pass her by.
It wasn’t long before Reidan Price’s speech came to an end and the crowd, yet again, called out in appreciation—this time; the stomping of feet in a unanimous standing ovation joined their cries. OPTICS created a winking sea of green across the square as the citizens of New Eden gave praise to the man that protected their right to wear them.
Amidst the uproar, Sylvie felt a warm circlet of fingers wrap themselves around her wrist and tug her gently away from the table. She raised her perfectly sculpted brow in question at their owner. Wordlessly, Davis drew her through the huddled mass of silk and chiffon to the gate leading into the gardens. Passing beneath the vine-laced trellis, the perfume of sweet autumn clematis tickled at Sylvie’s nose, giving a sense of warmth to the chilly evening.
But it did little to warm her toward her companion
“Davis!” Sylvie snapped as soon as they were out of the earshot of the nearest guest. “Just where do you think you are taking me?” Sylvie’s voice was as icy as the wind that whipped around them and her cool stare chased away any promise of warmth it may have left behind.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Davis said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. “But I had to tell you something and I could not say it in front of the others.” A wide smile spread across his face revealing a flawless row of pearly whites that made his exuberance undeniable even in the shadow of twilight.
Without waiting for a response, Davis reached out and eagerly took her hand. “I did it, Sylvie,” he said excitedly, turning her impatient stare into a look of bewilderment. “I have finally been offered a position on the Assembly.”
Induction into the Assembly was the greatest honor attainable in New Eden. Headed by the Premier, its members implemented the most vital programs in the State and were privy to all of the most confidential matters; it was everything that Davis had been working toward.
“I’m not a stupid errand boy anymore,” he breathed, his words taking shape in the frosty air. “I am a real member of the staff. They even want me to participate in the defense Summit next year. Can you believe it finally happened?”
As the words poured out of him, Sylvie contemplated the best way to respond. On the one hand, she was furious that she had been dragged away from a perfectly good party to discuss something that, in her mind, could have waited. But on the other, she had intended to apologize before for her rudeness earlier and she wasn’t exactly eager to add another “I’m sorry” to her queue.
“That’s wonderful,” she said, even though the words “I don’t care” fought mercilessly to take their place. Sylvie smiled, her tightly pressed lips keeping the ugly remark at bay. “We should go celebrate.” She looped her arm through his and turned back toward the plaza, but Davis held his ground.
“I have been given access to the Hub,” he said, stopping Sylvie mid-step.
She had to hand it to him. While there was a mile long list of things Davis didn’t know about her, he knew how to get her attention. Sylvie looked back longingly at the party just as the music began to swell and then down at her magnificent gown. But she knew she couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.
“Show me,” she said.
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