Chapter Text
"Father, what is a soulmate?"
The adressed man tore his gaze away from the news he was reading in his desk computer about the recent profits recived from the dust embargo sent a week ago. His eyes widened exponentionally as he looked at the originator of the voice.
His youngest offspring and only son stood completly still in front of the mahogany desk looking directly at him with expectant, determined yet scared eyes, wainting for an answer.
"Who told you that word, Whitley?" The man, Jacques Schnee, stood up from his seat slowly. Resulting in making Whitley instinctively flinch at the movement, but didn’t take a step back or moved further than that.
"...My english tutor. We were practicing my pronunciation and she pointed out something strange in my hand.’’ He lifted his left hand, more especificaly his palm, showing his father what he meant. Sure enought there was something on his palm, it was a beautiful drawing of a pine leaf that looked almost transparent if not for the slight opaque blue that seemed to shine though the various rough edges that gave the picture an even more angelic and translucent view to it. Except it wasn’t a drawing. "She said it’s called a ‘Soulmate mark’ but didn’t say what it meant. I tried to wash it, but it won’t come off."
He traced his fingers through the outlines of the inprinted picture that now resided in his palm. It is quite beautiful, though. The leaf looked as if it were falling gently and delicately but the expresive and rough borders and color gave it an elegant and sharp appearance that made it look like a crystal, or even better, a diamond!
"Come with me." Looking up he catched the sight of his father walking past him towards the door, not looking back, expecting to be followed. Whitley complied almost tripping on his own feet.
This was probably one of the top three escenarios Whitley wanted to avoid the most when asking his father that question. He tried asking the staff workers, the secretary, the security guard and even his mother before coming here. Figuring an adult would know the answer. Ah, but why did he have to know in the first place?! It wasn’t even that important anyway, he could’ve just hide it until he found out a way to get rid of it. Surely wasn’t worth bothering father while he was still busy in his office!
They kept walking through the corridors for a while with Whitley mentally kicking himself and thinking of what to say to avoid any more problems for today, when they reached a small closet that he recognised as it being one of the closets on the third floor of the east wing of the manor. He knows because of the different gravado the door has compared from the ones on the west wing. Did they really walk that far?
Jacques opened the door with a set of keys he probably took from his office and took one medium sized black box with blue lace on it that was close by. He looked into it and turned around to face his son.
"Whitley, let me see your hands again." Whitley extended both his hands and opened them up for him. "I don’t want to hear you talk about soulmates again."
The mental dialoge that he recited like a mantra in his head all the way over here about how he would agree with anything his father said seemed to get thrown out the window when he was once again going to be left without answers.
"But- but why!? ¿What IS a soulmate and what does it do? ¿Is it dangerous?" He griped his left hand with his right one, looking at the leaf that was now part of his own flesh. "Please, tell me father."
There was a long pause, though it couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds, it felt as if the cold hard eyes of his father were on him for minutes.
"A soulmate... Is a curse. It’s a very rare curse that resembles imprisonment, pain and grief on the ones that carry it. If you have a soul mark-" He pointed to Whitley’s left hand "-then that means you have the curse. What it does is that binds you to a complete stranger for the rest of your lives. You can’t go anywhere or do anything if they’re not with you, they’ll take you away from Atlas and away from your family forever."
Whitley reeled back a bit, taken aback from his father’s words, eyes widening and watering.
"If you let your soul mark show, everyone will see it and it’s very possible for your soulmate to recognise it and come here to claim you as property of them and take you away."
No... No, no no that can’t be true! Why is this happening to him!? ‘A very rare curse’ that means it could’ve happened to anyone else, then why him!? What were the odds!! He doesn’t want to be imprisoned forever!
"But..." He continues, ignoring his son’s inner breakdown. "If no one sees them, no one will know. And no one will be able to force you to do anything simply because you share one insignificant drawing and you will be safe." Jacques opens the box and it reveals two pairs of gloves. White and black, the material looked soft and regal. It was silk, he wanted to touch it.
"These were Winter’s party gloves, she won’t be needing them anymore. Now they’re your’s."
He takes the box from the other’s more cold and experienced hands. He looks down and then looks back up.
''Put these on, and never, ever, take them off in public. ¿Do I make myself clear?''
''Yes, Father...''
His father smiled, pleased with the result of their conversation while closing the closet door and turning around to leave. ‘’Oh, and Whitley.’’ He looks back at his son. "Starting tomorrow you will be having all your clases inside the manor. You will not be attending school anytime soon.
''Yes, Father.'' He watches as Jacques leaves him behind with the box that contains his new accesories.
Putting on the white silk gloves on both of his hands, he admires the shiny material that covers his newfound curse.
''I'll be okay...''