The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent) by Bridget Ladd Read Free Book Online

the unjust.
    If I did nothing after tonight, I would only be looked upon as the unruly, childish girl, who revoked her responsibility.
    To change the system, I needed something more. Something brave. Something . . . stupid.
    Staring openly into the crowd, I stood as tall and proud as I could, secretly palming the locket for strength—the memory of the broken automaton driving me forward.
    “I, Lily Emerson, shall instead volunteer my name into the Drawing for Sector 8. I will participate in the Barrage Tournament and, in doing so, shall wager my life to have the opportunity as victor to change the Law.”
    I had said the words. The words that were now binding.
    Silence ensued.
     
     
     
     
     

 
    Chapter 4
     
    Curious Beings
     
               
            The piercing sound echoed throughout the silent banquet hall long before I could register that my mother had indeed slapped me. Despite the sting, a slow worry twitched at my mouth. I was in serious trouble come Barrage day if I couldn’t even anticipate such a feminine strike to the face.
            Ignoring the hot embarrassment that flooded my cheeks, I took hold of my skirts, calmly turned away from my mother, and walked the length of the room toward the exit with as much dignity as I could muster. Yet I found myself having no control over the tears that sprung to my eyes from my mother’s left-handed disapproval.
    The last time I had ever truly cried was when my grandmother disappeared. I was only nine, and I had been devastated.
    “Oh yes, due to the distraction of your rude foolishness , I almost forgot to mention: Happy Nameday , dearest daughter,” Mother remarked to me from across the banquet hall, her face full of heat, though her voice devoid of any desperation. “I can only hope you’ll live long enough to see next year’s celebration.”
    I stopped momentarily to process the hurt intended in my mother’s words. I was used to receiving her disapproval, but this was worse than getting reprimanded in front of a room full of onlookers. This was the type of hurt that stung deep into my very core, leaking across any hope that I might’ve once had at having a relationship with my mother. I had seen this coming the moment I decided to speak my mind, but it was a wound for which I could never rightly prepare myself for.
    Once around the corner of the banquet hall and out of view, I picked up my skirts even higher and ran the rest of the way to my room, slamming the door behind me. My labored breathing was faster and heavier than I’d ever felt. Sliding down with my back against the door, I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to regain my composure. The green floral carpet beneath me, soft to my shaking fingers.
    I wasn’t going to cry. I wouldn’t allow it.
    I wasn’t going to pass out either. I could feel the whiteness creeping in from beyond the edges of my vision like an unwanted visitor. A childhood stalker. If I calmed down, it would soon pass. I’d be fine.
    Breathing slowly and deeply, I looked at the carpet as I tried to refocus my mind. The floral designs were mimicked in many of the dresses I was made to wear and even appeared in the curtains over my window, but never had I learned of their origins—which suddenly made me think of my grandmother’s journal.
    I scurried next to my bed and dug my fingers into the unnoticeable slice in the carpeting and raised the wooden plank below.
    Reaching inside, I sighed in relief as I felt the leather bound journal swipe across my fingertips. I removed it and opened it tenderly. Skimming through the pages, I looked upon sketches of individuals wearing primitive clothing who carried odd staff weaponry upon their backs, ruined cities of a time long past, an impressively bold looking woman who carried a flame within her hand. I turned the page, finding the image of another fearless female. Her untamed hair flowed behind her as she stood proud against the wind, her arms at her side,