“They’re allowed to. Everyone is,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t help. He pulled the front door open with a huff.
Inside we were greeted with silence and the finest wooden craftsmanship Carra had to offer, everything polished to perfection with rectangular, decorative rugs running along the walkways throughout the building. They were more to prevent the wood from being damaged than to provide actual decoration.
Normally, the house would be bustling with activity from people getting the final approval for the day’s case, to workers polishing the handrails of the staircases, to the chef and her team getting dinner prepared, but not tonight. The house was empty save for our family. The silence felt heavy and wrong.
It was hard to call this place home when we first moved in, but over the years it got easier: a few scratched floorboards from the three of us racing around the house, a bannister that was snapped off when Darik tried to show off to his friends, and the familiar carpet by the door that Dameon had used to hide his painted mess back when he was only five. Those moments helped to make the Exalted House feel like home, but on these nights, it felt like I was trespassing.
Dameon stepped away to wash himself up for dinner, still covered in mud, so I headed into the dining room where Mother was likely waiting.
The dining table was laid out with a pair of candelabras, which made the room far darker than what I was used to. Each of the places had been set, a tradition that Mother insisted she be permitted to continue on the night before The Seeking despite how taboo it was.
She was standing at the fireplace, her back to me and her long shadow stretching and dancing across the gleaming table.
Mother wore a plain, cream colored gown, which was the traditional color of The Seeking. It was to remind the Exalted Family that on this day we were no more than commoners. It was intended to humble and maybe even insult us.
My mother was a defiant woman, though, and had added her own touch to the gown. A black petticoat peeked out just above her flat shoes; her hands were enclosed in matching black gloves, and a netted black shawl hung over her shoulders. If not for the gown itself, she might have been going to a funeral. She had worn the same outfit last year, too, and claimed it was for warmth, but I didn't believe her. She liked to launch small rebellions against rigid expectations.
I shifted and she turned when a floorboard creaked beneath my foot; her smile was reminiscent of the one she wore at dinner parties that we hosted on a regular basis. It felt false. "Dahlia, you made it! I was beginning to—” she blinked, refocused, and then gestured to the table, "I was afraid the food would get cold."
I sat down and started spooning beans onto my plate. It was a simple meal of cornbread and vegetables, reminiscent of the meals we used to have before we became the Exalted. I tried not to notice that she had clearly been crying.
"Dameon is with me. He's cleaning up."
She put a hand to her chest and gave a genuine smile before coming over behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders, and planting a kiss on top of my head.
"Blessed be those that watch over us,” she said before pausing. “He was supposed to be home an hour ago, but when he didn't show I got worried."
I nodded, digging into a boiled potato I’d just placed on my plate. I couldn't help how good it made me feel to hear her praise. I always felt like I had to work double to earn it, compared to my two brothers.
"Have you heard anything from Darik yet?"
She pursed her lips. "He came by for lunch, but I got the impression he wasn't interested in joining us for dinner."
I shook my head then downed a glass of water, appreciating that the well water no longer had that weird aftertaste it got in the summertime when the rains were heavy and the days were hot.
Truthfully, I wasn't terribly surprised that Darik had once again refused to spend time with us around The Seeking, but it still made me angry. At least he had the decency to drop by for lunch this time. Last year, he was gone a full week and laughed at our relief when he emerged the day after The Seeking.
His antics always weighed on Mother the most, and each year I saw how it aged her. It had to be difficult not knowing where we were for a full day, or whether we were safe. Some of the Exalted before us had died trying to find hiding spots for The Seeking, and some had died under more suspicious circumstances.
I reached out and placed a hand on hers, feeling the delicately stitched embroidery beneath my palm. She felt cold despite having stood in front of the fireplace moments before.
"We'll come back, okay? We'll be safe."
She let out a wavering sigh and a tear slid down her cheek. "I don't worry about you, Dahlia. I know you will. Of all my babies, you're the one I worry about the least."
I blinked. "Really?"
She laughed as she wiped the tear away. "You take after me - clever and determined no matter the obstacle. Just make sure it doesn't lead you into danger." She clasped my hand tightly in hers. "Sometimes I wish we had never become the Exalted."
I nodded, understanding her more than she probably knew. "People say we're one of the best families that have ever had the title. We've done so much good… Look at Bisa and her little brother. He would still be shut up in the filth of their mother's house if we hadn't helped."
"That was all you, Dahlia. You're the one who led that investigation and the one who got that little boy to safety.” She looked away. “Besides, I don't put much stock in what people say anymore. They'll tell every Exalted Family they're the best. It's how they treat us on The Seeking that really matters. Either way, it's my children that are put in danger every year, my children that have to suffer. I hate it." Her lips trembled as she said the words and she turned her head, almost ashamed of herself.
I stared at her in shock. I had never heard her say such things before. Even as difficult as it was the first Seeking, she never voiced such thoughts.
I suddenly thought of what it must have been like for her and Father, trying to decide if they should attempt to become the Exalted Family. Father had bribed someone at the clock to run it forward an hour. When one of the then Exalted Family’s sons had come back, believing The Seeking was over, Father nabbed him. I often wondered if he and Mother decided to do it together, or if it was just him. Did they ever realize the sacrifices they would all have to make?
"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what else I could say.
She shuddered. "It's not your fault. Don't worry about me and my many fears. I want you to be safe tonight, and I expect you to come back to me, you hear me?" She stroked my hair.
"I plan to, Mother. Don't worry."
She smiled and I thought she might cry but the tears didn't fall.
"Is everything okay?" Dameon asked, and I turned to see him stepping into the dining room uncertainly.
"Of course it is!" Mother said and gestured for him to sit.
We shared a glance before I went back to eating.
For the next hour or so, Mother spoke of what all Dameon would be doing the following day. Despite his fears and embarrassment earlier, Dameon seemed excited about the games he would be playing. Neither of them spoke of where Dameon would be staying, which, while I understood why, was always uncomfortable.
"Hm, Darik's not here again?" Father’s deep voice reverberated on the wooden floors and walls as he stepped into the room. He, too, was dressed in a cream shirt and pants, though I noticed this year he was wearing a black overcoat and black gloves that matched Mother's. He frowned as he sat down beside Mother and put an arm around her waist to give her a squeeze. "I wonder where that boy hides all the time."