Chapter 42 THE ANCESTRAL SASH (1)
GALLAHAN’S POV
With hands that were still trembling with barely contained anger, I fastened the last button of my waistcoat. Then I slipped my arms into the sleeves of my ceremonial robe, which was light blue around my shoulders and midnight blue around my forearms and legs.
With tiny diamonds studded all over the darkest shade of blue, I fucking felt like I was halfway into becoming a replica of that gaudy-looking Prince Bubba of Agvanda.
“Looking good!” Maliya, who was already donning a silky yellow robe over a long white dress, complimented me chirpily, trying to get me to lighten up.
But I was so wound up with my emotions that any attempt made only irked me further.
So her compliment went ignored.
I looked away from the full-length mirror, still wearing a scowl as if it had been permanently embedded on my face.
“Let’s go,” I said tersely as I headed for the door.
The man sent to escort us was already standing outside my borrowed room for a couple of minutes already. And regardless of his affiliations and stance on the war, I wasn’t going to let someone needlessly wait on me.
“Alright, alright,” Zuleika huffed, putting on the last of her accessories.
She towed behind me with Maliya, her hands busily putting on her earrings.
I tried not to roll my eyes over the extra fuss women put into getting ready for something. Beauty was something they were all naturally born with, after all.
Just then, my daughter, who I still had to meet, suddenly popped into my head, and I thought of how, when she would grow older, I would still end up spoiling her with all these fussy makeup and jewelry with just one pleading look and one simple ‘please.’
The imagined scenario almost pulled me out of my bad mood. Almost.
Because the only thing that could completely lighten me up was being able to actually put myself as a permanent fixture in my children’s lives. So this Ascension Rite had better be my sure step towards it.
“Good evening, Mr. Wick, Miss Banfey, and Miss Macarius,” the man, who I remembered to be Brandon Glaws from the parley six years ago, greeted politely.
I acknowledged his existence with a nod and gestured for him to lead the way.
Brandon returned my nod and said, “Please follow me.”
So, with him leading the way and with Zuleika and Maliya flanking me on either side, we all walked in shared silence, and our footfalls against the gleaming floor were the only thing we could hear in the quiet.
We were led outside the impressive Alfiero Manor. Then we walked through a neat and obscenely large hedge maze that was two and a half meters tall, well-lit by the glowing magical obelisks that stood in every corner. Then at the end of the maze was a flagstone path of at least fifteen yards, leading towards a grand dome made of glass.
“We don’t have a pack house,” Brandon shared as he went on his merry way onto the flagstone path. “Instead, we have the Glass Dome. This is where everyone gathers for meetings, celebrations, ceremonies… It allows us the full view of the moon, you see.”
I hummed noncommittally, and that was all I offered as a response. Because I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and idle chit chat.
But Brandon didn’t seem to be deterred by my lack of enthusiasm, considering he continued his little spiel of facts about the Glass Dome.
Unfortunately for him, I didn’t care. So I tuned him out, letting his voice go over my head as we trekked the flagstone path.
The only thing that finally shut Brandon’s trap was the sight of Greggory Alfiero welcoming us as soon as we entered through the colorful glass mosaic double doors of the dome.
“Master Greggory!”
“Brandon,” he acknowledged. “Let me take it from here. Go and settle down for the ceremony.”
Brandon bowed respectfully to his master and I before excusing himself from our ‘delightful’ company.
“Mr. Wick, Miss Banfey, Miss Macarius. Welcome,” Greggory Alfiero said as a way of greeting, dipping his head a little in the process. “We are honored to have you tonight.”