Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Questioning the Artifice is probably why it took so long for Maraline to be matched. The Artifice knows everything about everyone. It understands complexities we aren’t even aware of. The Artifice is to be respected. Worshipped,” my mother says reprovingly.
My mother is very respectful and worshipful. She is probably the reason we haven’t been discarded entirely. The Artifice can do more than select a mate for a daughter. It can reallocate an entire bloodline’s resources if it sees fit.
“Mila, come and help me get your sister dressed,” she says, bustling into the room. “Be careful not to mess her makeup. You look beautiful, Maraline, dear. You remind me of myself on my match day, though of course I was six years younger.”
My mother has turned backhanded compliments into a peak art form.
I do as I am told, ever the dutiful little sister. I am too young to be matched, at only nineteen years of age. Normally nobody is married off by the Artifice until they are twenty-one, so I have almost two years before I have to start worrying about all of this.
Maraline’s dress is exquisite. She may not be getting a wedding in the traditional sense. Her husband lives in another country, and technically a marriage is legal and binding as soon as the Artifice decrees it. My mother will not be denied her chance to dress her daughter up, however, and she has ensured that Maraline has a gorgeous dress. The fitted bodice flares out into a dramatic long skirt, with an even longer train. Thousands of little diamonds have been affixed to the fabric in delicate floral patterns. The maids have spent hours doing her hair.
This is the most beautiful she has ever been.
“Go and get ready, Mila!” My mother immediately begins fussing at me. “Maraline needs to depart shortly, and look at you!”
I have brushed my rusty-golden hair back into a ponytail, put on a dark beige dress, and I am wearing sensible boots. I am well-presented enough, and I’d rather be accused of looking too plain than commit the cardinal sin of being perceived as pulling focus from Maraline. I usually wear eyeliner and a little lip color, but I’ve avoided both today.
“Yes, when are you getting changed?” Maraline glances over at me. “Not that it matters much what you wear when I am handed over. You may as well wear what you have on right now.”
“Oh, no, she can’t possibly! She’ll look like a servant!” My mother trills with laughter, rather liking the idea, I think.
“We’re going to be late,” Maraline says. “She’ll have to go as she is. Just tuck her out of the way in the photo.”
This has all been planned down to the last detail. We will drive Maraline to the Temple of the Artifice, which of course stands in the town square. There, the officers of the Artifice will take custody of her and deliver her safely to her new husband. There is a flight, we’ve been told, one that goes up and over the ocean.
Once again, that sounds terrifying to me, but Maraline insists it will be fun. She is so positive about this experience it is almost sickening. If it were me about to be taken away from all I have ever known and loved, I’d be losing my mind. I’d be rushing down to the stables and saying tearful goodbyes to all the ponies—and I’d be asking if I couldn’t marry someone nice and close to my age.
I know we don’t actually get a choice in that matter, but it feels like we should. The Artifice assigns us to our husbands as if we are pawns on a chessboard, or pieces of cake. We get handed out and I’m not sure what happens after that. Maraline has told me many times it’s happily ever after, but I don’t think that theory holds up to much thought.
“It’s time to go!” my father booms. “I’m getting the old beauty out, and anybody who isn’t in it in five minutes won’t be going to meet her new husband today!”
Maraline laughs. She is in high spirits as we all rush downstairs and tumble into the old car that has been in the family for generations. The mood is infectious, and we all laugh and sing as we drive into the little town that used to house the people who served our family in the distant past.
The Temple of the Artifice is the largest building in town by a factor of seven. This has always been an underdeveloped old farming area. But the Artifice requires a great deal of space in which to function. The old marketplace, stockyards, and auction house were commandeered, and more was added on. Most of the buildings in town are very old, but the temple has large shining windows and a big red A in the middle of a golden circle.