The Ivory Rite

Prologue

I am the child of a servant.

My chestnut hair falls long and thick down my back, and my two-toned eyes squint against the sunlight.

None of the Elite have dark hair or eyes. Their locks shine like spun gold, and their eyes are blue like the sky on a cloudless winter day. They aren't like me.

I'm not like them.

Mam has reddish-brown hair and kind eyes. The Elite have beautiful homes and fine things, and they do not have to work hard like we do, but they do not have kind eyes.

We are not royal, but we live on castle grounds. Mam trims away the winter vines in the garden and tends to the ice sculptures. I wake up early with her, and the frosted ground crunches beneath my feet as I stray from the white stone pathways, ducking behind the hedges. I jump out at the other servant children, the air ringing with our laughter.

If I were a noble I would have a dress made of a soft fabric. It would feel like butter against my skin. Instead, the rough material of my dress rubs my skin raw as I run, chasing my best friend, Colter. He is a boy and he runs faster than me, but I am more clever than he is. 

My dress suits me fine. I do not need it to shine or sparkle.

I would rather have Mam's kind eyes than a fancy dress.

Colter calls my name this morning, as the sun is rising and the mist is settling. "Aisling, I'll find you!" he shouts. "Don't think I'll let you win just because it's your birthday!" He laughs, his footsteps pounding louder as he approaches.

I'm crouched behind the largest ice sculpture in the garden, an angel one story in height with her face turned to the sky, her wings just beginning to spread. Her base is large enough for me to hide behind, but as soon as the sun is up and the shadows run away, Colter will be able to see right through it. That's fine, I think to myself. Sometimes it is just as much fun to be found as it is to hide.

But it is not Colter who finds me.

Strong hands grip my shoulders from behind and I cry out in surprise. As I twist to see who it could be, Mam starts to scream. She tries to run to me from across the garden, but a man dressed in the black of the White Watch strikes her and she falls to the ground.

"You can't take her!" she screams. She screams it over and over again, and I start to cry. I reach out for her, but the strong hands drag me back. My feet lift from the ground, and I kick and kick, finding only air. 

Finally catching something in my grasp, I look down to see Colter holding onto my hand with both of his. His brown eyes are scared. I hang on tight, my fingers aching, hot tears running down my face. I try to say his name, but it gets caught in my throat. His hands are torn from mine, and I lose sight of him, but I hear him shouting as I'm dragged away.

Aisling, I'll find you.

They take me inside, away from the air, away from the light.

They tell me I am not the child of a servant.