Expiration Date (Books 1 and 2)

19 The Preeminence's Bathroom

Wow. Thank you so much for all of the votes and for adding my story to your reading lists. I can't even begin to tell you how much your comments mean to me. Imagine a fangirl doing a happy dance in a contained space. 

Iris~~

The Eta grinds his teeth as he takes her glass. "This way, please," he says to me.

The Preeminence holds up a hand. "That won't be necessary. I'll take Iris to clean up." His hand hovers behind my back, not touching me, but making me tense with that ever-present feeling that he might.

"Jonas, really," Gwen protests. "Riley can handle it."

"Riley, please make sure Gwen consumes no more alcohol tonight. I believe she may have drunk too much." With that, he guides me out of the ballroom and back in the direction of the middle portion of the Estate. The ballroom takes up about one whole section. The dining room takes up an entire floor of another. No one outside the Society knows how many people live at the Estate. Many say at least a thousand, and being here in person, that's not hard to believe.

"I'm terribly sorry about my sister."

"It's not your fault."

"She's very protective of us."

We pass under an open set of doors and walk down a hallway, the Preeminence's hand still hovering at my back.

"She sees me as a threat?"

He stops, his expression serious. "Iris, you walked into the Society tonight for the first time and stood in a circle with the Preeminence, the future Beta, their sister, the Epsilon, Eta, Undici, Delta, and the future Tresais. Of course, she's wary." He starts walking again, and I follow alongside him. His hand doesn't return to my back. "She probably thinks you're some temptress who only wants our power."

"Don't forget the money."

His lips twitch. "That too."

Did I just joke with the Preeminence?

"She called you khaleedi. What does that mean?"

He looks at me and frowns. "It's simply a way the Society can set themselves apart from the rest of the world. We sometimes use it when addressing a brother."

"What about a sister?"

"Khaleedessa."

Eventually we pass into the middle section of the house, stepping out under the balconies that go up the five stories of the house. House might not be the right word. The balconies wrap around the room in almost a complete circle. The entryway where I came in earlier is down the wide hallway to my right. A breathtaking staircase of marble circles the room, and above me, the glass ceiling has the faintest designs of the swirls of the Society's insignia. The stars in the sky complement it.

Next to the base of the staircase, steps lead downward. Rather than marble, they're stone. Spots of faint ember light shine out through the blackness.

Before I can question him about it, he asks me about dinner: how it was, where I sat, if I found the food well prepared, if I talked to anyone. The food was the best I've ever tasted, and I savored every bite while the people around me—lower members of the Society—simply ate, neither amazed nor disgusted. It was food to them. Average, plain food. From where I sat, I couldn't see the head table where he and Erik were seated.

While we talk, his hand returns to my back—this time firmly pressed against it—and he sweeps us in a wide arc around the stone staircase. Once we reach the stairs leading upward, he removes his hand. When he finds out the names of who I sat next to, he seems genuinely happy, maybe even a bit relieved. He guides me up to the second floor where he unlocks one of the many doors that run along the back wall.

He lets me step inside the room first and turns on the lights, revealing a bedroom. Besides for the high level of immaculateness and exquisiteness, there's nothing uncommon about it. The furniture is made of a dark, rich wood and deep blue curtains are pulled back from a set of French doors leading out onto a balcony. Embedded in the center of the marble floor is the Society's insignia. Maybe I was expecting mutilated bodies. A guillotine.

"This is my room," he says.

Again, I'm hit with that feeling of him being humanized in my mind. Kirk and Lilyana always made the Society out to be unfeeling monsters to the point they became no longer human in my mind, and instead became something other, something a bit fantastical. To see they have to sleep and eat and even get dressed is jarring although I never thought they didn't.

The Preeminence opens a door leading to a bathroom, and it's not the fact that it's the most elegant bathroom I have ever laid eyes on that floors me. I guess I never thought about the Society—you know—having to pee. He starts running the water for the tub, pointing out the intricacies of the faucets and hands me towels and soap, before heading for the doorway. He pauses there, one hand on the banister. The cascade of water hums in the air around us.

"I'll grab you a new dress. I'll only be a moment."

"Thank you, Preeminence."

He looks over his shoulder at me. "Since I see you're still insistent on ending every sentence with my title"—more like one-third of the time—"call me Jonas."

"But you're the—"

"Preeminence, yes. But you're using my bathtub because my sister poured wine on you. I think using my first name is acceptable." With that, he leaves.