Alpha Isaiah ✔️

TWENTY FOUR

Word Count: 1876

~Avia

I can't believe I've had the courage to do this.

Writing the invitations this morning was like walking through mud, forcing out pleasant terms in hopes of luring my least favourite members into a luncheon with me. It just so happens that they may have the information I need about Isaiah.

But I truly, deeply do not like Elise, or Mari.

For once, it's less so about their position in regards to Isaiah, and more so the attitudes they have had since I first met them. Maybe it's my bias, but the warmth and kindness both Cherry and Savea have shown me since meeting them has made this mission harder than it should be. But Elise and Mari have made up for it...

"It feels so nice to take a break, mother has been running me ragged," Mari exclaims dramatically, resting the back of her hand on her forehead as she leans back in her chair.

"You work?" I ask.

"Mother makes me do all her letter writing now that her tendinitis Is bad," she muses, sitting back up to examine her slender hands. She doesn't wear jewellery like Savea does, although her nails are prettily painted. "It's painful, yet strangely satisfying."

"I'm tired too," Elise sighs from the other side of the table. "I'm busy preparing for my wedding."

My eyes widen. "Isaiah's proposed?"

I hate how my heart sinks at the mention of it, a sense of dread crawling into my chest cavity, settling in there. Because even if it isn't the case, it's not going to be long before it is...Unless of course, the rebellion can take over before then, which I'm silently hoping for.

Whatever I may feel for Isaiah, against my better judgment, won't matter soon.

"Not yet, but it takes time to sort my living situation out, so I'm preparing early," she admits, eyes scaling the outdoor patio area, visualising what could soon be hers. "I don't know why he hasn't, I mean why wait?"

Yes Isaiah. Why wait?

What if it's because of me, because of what he has admitted to me? Surely not, right? In less than a few weeks, my work here will be done, and the rebellion will be making it's move. But Isaiah could well be waiting, biding his time before I truly am gone.

"Maybe he wants the proposal to be perfect," I merely shrug, taking a bite from my small sandwich.

Once again, a tall vase sits in the centre of the table, surrounded by beautifully presented food, and filled with blooming flowers. The bottom of my nose has been rubbed raw as I try to fight off my allergies.

"We will never love each other. Not that it matters," Elise mutters, swirling the tea in her cup around until it nearly tumbles over the brim, and onto the lap of her stunning white dress.

I can't help but be envious of everything about Elise. And aside from her immaculate sense of fashion, it has nothing to do with her looks. She is so sure of herself, even where there is doubt. The way she carries herself, so elegant and graceful is something to be admired. If only she would stop saying some of the wretched things she does...

"I'm sorry Elise, that you are subjected to that," I say honestly.

Like her or not, I cannot imagine being forced to marry someone I felt nothing for, and who felt nothing for me.

"Don't be," she mutters dismissively, her teacup clattering against the plate as she sets it down. "If only I could have married his father instead. Now that is a real partner, a man with real wealth and power."