Yesterday, 11:04 PM
As the first soft chimes rang through the air, delicate and commanding, Colette stiffened in Carter’s embrace. Her head turned sharply toward the staircase where the Ascendancy was beginning to ascend, the faint flicker of the chandeliers casting a golden sheen over the room.
“I have to go,” she said abruptly, her voice tight, as though the weight of the announcement had already settled on her shoulders. She stepped back, slipping out of Carter’s arms with a kind of urgency that bordered on desperation.
“Colette—” Carter began, but she cut him off with a look, one that carried both warning and frustration.
“Not now,” she hissed, low enough that no one else could hear. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, her heart pounding. She didn’t look back, hoping—praying—that Carter would take the hint and leave. But she knew better than to hope too much. He was so stubborn! So cute, but so damn stubborn!
Carter lingered in a corner of the room, his pale eyes following her like a hawk locked onto its prey. He leaned casually against a pillar, pretending not to exist, but his attention was razor-sharp. He watched the way Colette moved through the crowd, her steps quick and purposeful, her head held high. She was trying to lose him in the sea of masked faces, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He folded his arms, biding his time, his focus unwavering. Whatever she was running from—or toward—he intended to find out.
Colette pushed through the throng of guests, searching for Sofia. Her friend wasn’t hard to spot with that effortless poise she always carried. Colette joined her, grateful for the buffer of Sofia’s presence as the guests settled into a quiet hush. She glanced toward the staircase, where Nikolai Brandon, the Ascendancy himself, stood above the room like a king addressing his court.
The air felt heavy, almost electric, as the announcement began. Colette listened with a mix of discomfort and awe, her gaze flicking between Nikolai and the crowd. The way people hung on his every word, the way they looked at him with something like reverence—it unsettled her. This was a kind of government she had never truly understood, one where a single man held absolute power, and yet… everyone seemed to love him for it. The way he spoke, the way he commanded the room, it was impossible to ignore.
She couldn’t help but think of Evelyn. Evelyn would have had something clever to say about all this. Something insightful. Colette wished she were here, standing beside her, giving her the confidence to make sense of what she was feeling. This wasn’t just a party or a simple announcement—it was a display of power, one that felt utterly foreign and yet strangely magnetic.
When Valentin Sulteev’s retirement was announced, Colette clapped politely, though the gravity of the moment wasn’t lost on her. The changing of the Privilege of Dominance I was a reminder of how tightly controlled this world was. A single man had the authority to appoint successors to positions of incredible power, and no one questioned it. No campaigns, no debates, no votes—just the Ascendancy’s declaration. The efficiency of it was awe-inspiring, but it also left a knot in her stomach. This was a far cry from the politics she knew, where decisions were fought for tooth and nail, often to the detriment of everyone involved.
But it was the second announcement that left her breathless.
Jessika Thrice.
The name landed like a thunderclap in Colette’s mind. Her chest tightened as she clapped again, this time more out of reflex than intention. The name Jessika Thrice was impossible to ignore. Colette had followed the news of the Texas succession with rapt attention, watching as shockwaves from the event rippled across the United States. Jessika’s leadership in the breakaway state had been nothing short of monumental, and now, here she was, stepping into the Custody’s inner circle.
Colette’s mind raced. Her family had yet to declare any official stance on Texas’ independence, carefully waiting to see how the chips would fall before committing to either side. It was a strategy, of course, one that allowed them to remain flexible in the volatile political climate. But standing here now, seeing Jessika welcomed into the Custody’s Sphere, Colette couldn’t help but feel the shifting tides. The future of the United States was in jeopardy, and if the Custody’s influence continued to grow, it wouldn’t just be Texas. It would be everything. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this conflict inside.
Her gaze drifted back to Nikolai. This was the winning side. She could see it now, clearer than ever. It must have been what Evelyn saw, too. If she wanted to get anything done—if she wanted to truly make her mark—she would need to choose her alliances carefully. The Ascendancy’s power was absolute, and those who aligned with him rose to greatness. Jessika’s presence was proof enough of that. Evelyn’s loyalty was proof enough.
Still, the thought left her uneasy. Colette wasn’t used to power that didn’t come with checks and balances. But perhaps she would have to learn.
“I have to go,” she said abruptly, her voice tight, as though the weight of the announcement had already settled on her shoulders. She stepped back, slipping out of Carter’s arms with a kind of urgency that bordered on desperation.
“Colette—” Carter began, but she cut him off with a look, one that carried both warning and frustration.
“Not now,” she hissed, low enough that no one else could hear. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, her heart pounding. She didn’t look back, hoping—praying—that Carter would take the hint and leave. But she knew better than to hope too much. He was so stubborn! So cute, but so damn stubborn!
Carter lingered in a corner of the room, his pale eyes following her like a hawk locked onto its prey. He leaned casually against a pillar, pretending not to exist, but his attention was razor-sharp. He watched the way Colette moved through the crowd, her steps quick and purposeful, her head held high. She was trying to lose him in the sea of masked faces, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He folded his arms, biding his time, his focus unwavering. Whatever she was running from—or toward—he intended to find out.
Colette pushed through the throng of guests, searching for Sofia. Her friend wasn’t hard to spot with that effortless poise she always carried. Colette joined her, grateful for the buffer of Sofia’s presence as the guests settled into a quiet hush. She glanced toward the staircase, where Nikolai Brandon, the Ascendancy himself, stood above the room like a king addressing his court.
The air felt heavy, almost electric, as the announcement began. Colette listened with a mix of discomfort and awe, her gaze flicking between Nikolai and the crowd. The way people hung on his every word, the way they looked at him with something like reverence—it unsettled her. This was a kind of government she had never truly understood, one where a single man held absolute power, and yet… everyone seemed to love him for it. The way he spoke, the way he commanded the room, it was impossible to ignore.
She couldn’t help but think of Evelyn. Evelyn would have had something clever to say about all this. Something insightful. Colette wished she were here, standing beside her, giving her the confidence to make sense of what she was feeling. This wasn’t just a party or a simple announcement—it was a display of power, one that felt utterly foreign and yet strangely magnetic.
When Valentin Sulteev’s retirement was announced, Colette clapped politely, though the gravity of the moment wasn’t lost on her. The changing of the Privilege of Dominance I was a reminder of how tightly controlled this world was. A single man had the authority to appoint successors to positions of incredible power, and no one questioned it. No campaigns, no debates, no votes—just the Ascendancy’s declaration. The efficiency of it was awe-inspiring, but it also left a knot in her stomach. This was a far cry from the politics she knew, where decisions were fought for tooth and nail, often to the detriment of everyone involved.
But it was the second announcement that left her breathless.
Jessika Thrice.
The name landed like a thunderclap in Colette’s mind. Her chest tightened as she clapped again, this time more out of reflex than intention. The name Jessika Thrice was impossible to ignore. Colette had followed the news of the Texas succession with rapt attention, watching as shockwaves from the event rippled across the United States. Jessika’s leadership in the breakaway state had been nothing short of monumental, and now, here she was, stepping into the Custody’s inner circle.
Colette’s mind raced. Her family had yet to declare any official stance on Texas’ independence, carefully waiting to see how the chips would fall before committing to either side. It was a strategy, of course, one that allowed them to remain flexible in the volatile political climate. But standing here now, seeing Jessika welcomed into the Custody’s Sphere, Colette couldn’t help but feel the shifting tides. The future of the United States was in jeopardy, and if the Custody’s influence continued to grow, it wouldn’t just be Texas. It would be everything. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this conflict inside.
Her gaze drifted back to Nikolai. This was the winning side. She could see it now, clearer than ever. It must have been what Evelyn saw, too. If she wanted to get anything done—if she wanted to truly make her mark—she would need to choose her alliances carefully. The Ascendancy’s power was absolute, and those who aligned with him rose to greatness. Jessika’s presence was proof enough of that. Evelyn’s loyalty was proof enough.
Still, the thought left her uneasy. Colette wasn’t used to power that didn’t come with checks and balances. But perhaps she would have to learn.
![[Image: Colette-signature-rainbow.png]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/Colette-signature-rainbow.png)