The Reformation Page 2

  Jax arched a brow, admonished at the girl’s recklessness, but still somehow charmed.

  “I’m not going to beg you for the position,” she added, her jaw set. “Regardless of my want for a voice.”

  “And if you don’t get that much-desired position, what happens to that voice?”

  “I’ll fight for it. The same way that the rest of NNR has to,” she gestured to the signs, her strong gaze never backing down from his all the while; the fire in her eyes fueled with purpose.

  “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

  “I would call it persistence for the right cause.”

  Jax paused, surprised as she smiled innocently up at him, the corner of her mouth turning up.

  “Well, I hope you're looking forward to seeing your name on the list the day after tomorrow. If you don’t find Celine Hollingsworth on there, you might find ‘The Girl Who Must Give Her Family One Hell of a Headache’.”

  She paused, and Jax fought back a chuckle as her eyes widened. “Wait, that worked?”

  “Miss Hollingsworth,” Jax gave her a curt bow, smirking all the way to where Cecil was supposed to pick him up. With his luck, he might even be able to add another two candidates to the list.

  ...

  "How are you feeling, Your Majesty?"

  "Too good to correct you," he said, practically beaming as Areya cocked her head to one side, an amused smile dancing at her lips.

  "What happened?"

  "I may or may not have found a candidate that will make it. How about you? Any progress on the list?"

  "Well, other than the few who have caught your eye, I could only make one addition to the list. On your desk, I have documents, all typed, with all the information you can ask for on the potential candidates."

  "You really are a lifesaver."

  She made a vague disinterested sound. "Please tell me that you know who’s on the list, Your Majesty."

  "I’m working on it." She gave him a pointed look, and he ducked down quickly to avoid it. "I'll send it to you tomorrow, promise!" he called over his shoulder, taking a seat at his desk and pulling out a pen.

  Jax had somewhat of a plan formulated in his mind, but he wouldn’t tell Areya until the moment came. That was because this plan? —it was certainly unorthodox, and Jax couldn’t let anyone stop it before it happened. The truth was, Jax didn't know who these people were, where they came from, or what they did, because none of that mattered. He trusted Areya's choice, and he knew that from the looks of the rest of the selected, they all had a little fire burning in their eyes. A little bit of Jax, shining, fighting against their flaws. And what could Jax say to that?

  "Your Majesty, there's something that you might want to see." Jax quickly set down his pen, curious to hear what the cause of concern in Areya's voice was. He tucked away the list, the names that had already become emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids, echoing in his brain as he made his way to where Areya was seated.

  Celine Hollingsworth.

  Equinox Carter.

  Paris Avelapoulos.

  January.

  Myriad Amherst.

  Z.

  The Strategists of His Majesty.

  Three

  CELINE was out of breath by the time she got home. "Mother!" She ran on the uneven cement floor, trying to find her mom. Peering into the kitchen, she found that her mother was curiously not there.

  "Celine? What's the matter?" Celine turned to face her mother, who looked like she came from outside, a bright smile lighting up her face. She brightly told her mother the news, whose brows furrowed as she asked what group Celine spoke of.

  "The Strategists. Mother, I spoke to you about this."

  Her mom pursed her lips. "You're joking."

  "No. I'm not. I met with him, called him cocky, and I got the job!"

  "Well, it was a nice test to see if you could make it." Celine could read into her mother's intentions, but she had to ask her mother what she meant in a small voice, the smile slipping off her face when her mother confirmed her suspicions. "You aren't going."

  "What do you mean?” Celine slowly asked, denial clouding her thoughts.

  "Celine. You are a girl. You aren't meant to do a job such as this. I knew that letting you continue those protests would lead to something bad."

  "Something bad? How is finding out that the king wants me to plan out NNR a bad thing?"

  "I told your father you wouldn't understand. You don't get it. We aren't supposed to do things like work for the king. You live a privileged life, and I would hate to see you wasting that to get ridiculed as the next royal entertainment."

  "This is my dream. What I've worked towards for so long. And if you and father can't see that-”

  Celine’s mother sighed, "It’s easy to dream, Celine. But when you open your eyes, then what? You can see a broken door, a dirty, cramped room. 6 elder brothers to overshadow you. You are a girl. No one could help that. It's just that-”

  "No one could help it? Is that all I am to you? An inconvenience that no one could fix? I can make it out of men's shadows and serve a world, and do so much more substantial than cleaning houses and serving my husband-”

  "Enough.” Celine flinched, stopping immediately as her mother raised her voice. “You're lucky that I'm not telling Arelic about this. Your father is not a forgiving man, Celine. Try not to cross him."

  Try not to cross him. Was that an invitation? Her mother looked a bit defeated, and Celine knew that if she wanted to go, she would have to try her luck now. "I'm going."

  "And I won't stop you. Just pray that your father never hears about it."

  "Thank you." Her mother held out her hands for a hug, and Celine readily complied, letting her mom's warm hands envelop her.

  "I'm proud. I just wished that you didn't have to go through this."

  "Mama. Do you ever wish that I was a boy?" Celine asked, her voice party muffled through her mother's shoulder.

  "I have adored you in a way I can only treat my girl. Your brothers won't ever get that attention. But if you were a boy, Celine. You could have done so much more. But if you don't make it through, you do know that you will have to come home. There's a nice boy that your father has found."

  Celine just nodded, more determined on proving her mother wrong. You could have done so much more. If she wasn't a girl.

  But she was wrong, because Celine Hollingsworth would rise.

  ...

  True to King Jaxcon’s word, the list was up two days later. The page was crisp, blowing in the wind, and the stationary was telling that it came from the royal palace. Everything about it seemed out of place. Bright, intricate, and beautiful. As great as the town did look, Celine secretly resented it. The one place that would always limit her. But if she could get into the palace—it would be beyond a dream come true.

  And much to Celine’s surprise, her name was under The Girl Who Must Give Her Family One Hell Of A Headache. Beside it was scribbled, 'sorry, I had to' in a messy, yet neat calligraphy. Celine could feel her cheeks flush at the name, and even more so at the words, and even though the king wasn't there, Celine was instantly reminded of their conversation the other day.

  It was lucky, however; if her actual name was written, her father would see it. And all hell would be set loose.

  She still couldn't believe it. She was in. Among hundreds of candidates, she, by a stroke of a luck, convinced the king to accept her. And by the looks of it, she was one out of the 3 girls selected.

  God, she would be in the palace by a week; three days, really. And she had no idea what she had just got herself into.

  ...

  If King Jaxcon held any preference to Celine, he sure didn't show it. She received the same introduction as the others; the king hadn't pulled her aside for an encouraging speech, or anything of the sort. But that's what she wanted, right? To be treated equally to the males. True to Celine's suspicions, 3 out of the 6 possible candidates were male. The fact that 50% of the team—possibl
e team—were women was quite astonishing. She saw a noticeable difference in the terms of gender equality varying between classes. In the palace, yes, men thought themselves superior, but they still accepted women if they were good enough for their standards. Back in the village, it would preposterous for a girl to hold such a position.

  They were an odd bunch, Celine figured. Out of the two other female candidates, Myriad Amherst was not present, which concerned Celine, as she knew Myri as the jeweller's daughter. The other girl, Paris Avelapoulos looked like a female warrior, possessing a serious disposition. Celine really didn't want to speak with her. Among the three boys, Nox, looked awkward and out of place, wearing a baggy sweater and sweatpants, despite the heat, and generally not speaking with anyone. January exuded bad vibe, and Celine identified him as the boy who she knocked into on her way, and had snidely remarked, 'Watch it, Blondie.' Least to say, Celine disliked him immediately. The last of them all—Z, Celine thought she heard—looked the friendliest. He had even gone to start a conversation with her, despite the fact that he was hyper and constantly looking around as if to find a way to burn everything down.

  She honestly didn't have any idea what to expect.

  Jaxcon, King Jaxcon, had first of all, congratulated them on making it this far. Then he asked them to sit in on his politics. Literally, sit in on his politics. They all sat on chairs leading up to his grand throne, situated right in the middle of the hall that led to the public entrance, and were to watch the conversations and requests that happened between the king and his subjects.

  It was boring, especially when people came in to pay their respects to the dead King Calix. Celine had held her head low for all of those respects, which made up approximately half of 'his politics'. During this time, Celine could barely observe the guards or the other candidates, which was how she was passing the time. However, out of the corner of her eye, she was able to see Jaxcon; tight-lipped, and fake smiles, and too firm handshakes.

  Maybe the king wasn't as naïve as January had proclaimed Jaxcon was whenever he was out of earshot.

  Two hours had passed when the outburst happened. Paris was cleaning her nails with a knife while January was arguing with her; Nox was challenging Z to see whose spitball would go the farthest; and Celine, amidst it all, was trying to go to sleep.

  Suddenly, January's and Paris' voices halted, and Z stopped trying to out-do Nox's spitballing record, and Celine looked up to see her saviour.

  Saviours, actually. There was a guard, rugged and handsome and in front of him was a girl trudging forward, hands bound her fiery red hair no comparison to the fire that Celine could see burning in her eyes. Neither of them could be older than Celine.

  "Your Majesty. I have come forward with a prisoner," the guard said, his voice stiff.

  "What exactly has she done to deserve such punishment, Mr..." Jaxcon trailed off, eyebrows raised, and Celine saw the guard shift uncomfortably under the gaze of the king.

  "Wesley Hunter, Your Majesty” the guard answered. “She, a Miss Blare Defalco, has committed a robbery of 150 venz, and had been causing a ruckus, committing such theft before."

  The girl stared straight at the king, her face not betraying a shred of emotion.

  Paris straightened out of her seat, eyes sharp. "The punishment would be 1 year, if I'm correct, Your Highness?"

  "You are, Miss Avelapoulos, but I wished to hear some justification on Miss Defalco's part."

  "I may be out of line for saying this, but NNR’s laws put in jurisdiction are very specific…" Paris trailed off, not bothering to finish her thought. Everyone knew what she meant.

  Jaxcon's eyes narrowed, though he took her words into account. "I see," He looked around. "If no one else wishes to intercede, then that is the-”

  "No!" The words flew out of Celine’s mouth before she could take them back, and soon the entire room's eyes were on her. "Can't you see it's for her family?"

  "Hollingsworth," January coldly addressed her. "It's the father's job of providing the livelihood of the family." Celine felt her jaw harden and nostrils flare at his words.

  "Forgive my imprudence, my king." Celine said, and Jaxcon didn't even have time to respond before Celine turned to the girl. "Miss Defalco. What has become of your father?"

  "Scorchen, ma'am."

  Celine turned back towards the throne. "What will happen if she goes to prison? It's either that she leaves her family to starve, or she will return home to her family dead. Not to even mention the horrors that are in prison. How old are you?"

  "16." Blare was looking at Jaxcon with a little more hope, though there still was a challenging look, as if to dare the king to put her in prison.

  She looked at the king, hoping he would see her logic.

  "Does anyone support Celine's input?" he asked, though his blue eyes didn't leave her hazel ones to see a reaction. They were fixed, trying to read into her emotions. If no one supports me, I will be ridiculed to no end. January will win, and this innocent girl will be somewhere she doesn't belong.

  "I agree, Your Majesty," Celine tore her gaze away to look at Z with the most thankful expression she could manage, hoping he would understand her gratitude. He gave her a nod and slight smile, both almost indistinguishable.

  Jaxcon smiled, looking almost relieved. Celine felt something in her dare to think that Jaxcon was on her side, away from the cold politics that seemed to close in on the palace. "Thank you, Celine and Z. As for you, Hunter and Defalco, you both are excused and requested to join us. Your bravery, in both cases, has been noted. Thank you."

  "There's more?" January asked, slate grey eyes open in astonishment.

  Celine let out a smug smile. "Of course. Blondie."

  The glare was worth it.

  Four

  CELINE heaved a great sigh from her lungs when the last person Jaxcon held open-court with, left. The afternoon had been tiring, and frankly, not illuminating in the slightest.

  “You guys are not into politics, whatsoever. But today was just so you would meet each other. Tomorrow we’ll get started.”

  “King Jaxcon, what’s your view on ‘getting started’?” Nox asked, his eyes wide.

  “It’s pretty bad. And just Jax, please. I’m going to be awfully casual.” He gave a quick glance around. “Although, if you all would say your names and age, you might be better acquainted.”

  There was silence for a second before Wesley spoke up. “I’m Wesley Hunter, 19, and wish to know what the hell is going on.”

  “Blare Defalco, a 16 year old juvenile.”

  “Celine Hollingsworth. I’m 17, and believe it is raining quite heavily,” she announced, peering through the huge windows at the front.

  “Z, uh, 19—I think,” He looked a bit sheepish at that. He didn’t know how old he was? “And it will suck if we have to walk home in that.”

  “Equinox Carter. Though I prefer Nox, 15. I can give 3 people rides, though I’m heading west.”

  “I’m Paris Avelapoulos and 18, and would like to thank Nox’s generosity, but I have lodgings only 5 minutes away.” Z covered up a snort at her haughty tone.

  “King Jaxcon, House of Gallagher, though please call me Jax. I’m 18, and I invite all of you to stay the night, if, of course, there are no difficulties. You can write to your families to inform them of the change of plans, though I do insist that you stay so you don’t get sick and miss out on tomorrow’s activities.”

  “January, though I prefer Jan, if you please. I’m 18. And I proclaim this is stupid.”

  …

  Nox was the only one to go, insisting that he had some private work to do, thanking Jax profusely for the offer. Even Paris cancelled her night at the lodgings to stay at the palace.

  They were all given rooms on the third floor, clothes already laid out on the bed. Celine refused any help from her assigned maid, Hanna, quickly sponging off and changing. Then, upon her earlier request, Hanna brought in a sheet of paper along with a pen so Celine could write a quick
note for her parents. After she did, she gave it to Hanna with a smile, running through all the possible scenarios in her mind when her parents read the note. None of them were good.

  Hanna left and Celine settled into her bed, plush blankets and cushions not able to lull her to sleep. She counted seconds in her head in an effort to fall asleep, though it didn’t quite work as planned. She had long since lost count when a delicate knock sounded at her door.

  “Hold on,” she called out, turning on the lamp beside her. She made her way over to the door, dragging her bare feet through the soft carpet. She opened the door to meet a fairly young, petite woman, no older than her although slightly shorter. She had straight dark hair, the brown matching her perfect complexion, and despite the hour, she was wearing a perfectly-pressed suit. Her dark eyes looked slightly concerned. “What’s the matter?”

  “King Jax has requested your presence.” Celine raised her eyebrows, the woman’s words not clearing any of her confusion. “I’m sorry. I’m Areya Carson, the king’s secretary. There’s a visitor downstairs, and he wants you all to be there as part of your training. Also, the visitor seems to want to see you.”

  “Are the rest already downstairs?”

  “Yes, Miss Hollingsworth.”

  Celine moved to leave the room, but realized that Areya stood in the doorway, clearly waiting for an invitation. Fighting back a smile, Celine softly asked: “Would you care to come down with me?”

  “Of course. Stairs?”

  “Yes, thank you. How did you know?”

  Areya just gave her a dismissive shrug.

  …

  In the center of the grand entrance, was a sopping wet Xanthene Holland. Her long black hair was dripping with rainwater, and her light brown eyes were searching for something familiar to land on. And then they stopped on Celine.