by Wren Weston
“I was a dutiful Randolph daughter for a very long time. I also earned such excesses because I didn’t let a bunch of hackers run off with millions every quarter, or have you so easily forgotten why you allowed me to join the militia in the first place?”
Lemaire cleared his throat. “Bea, this is theft. You can’t just take Lila’s—”
“Don’t you dare tell me how to raise my children. And I do mean raise. She’s almost thirty, and she still acts like a child. It’s your fault she ended up like this. You encouraged her. You hired her for these stupid jobs of yours. You think I don’t see it? If the rest of the country figures it out, you’ll have cast a storm cloud upon her, upon me, upon your matron and your father’s matron. You’ll have dishonored several highborn families with your idiocy, and for what?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but the chairwoman didn’t allow for it. “What were you thinking, Henri?”
“I was trying to protect Saxony and the rest of the country, so people like you can go on, ignorantly believing your biggest threat and obstacle in life is a wayward daughter. I damn sure hope the next prime minister will do as I’ve done. Lila’s proven invaluable. You have no idea how invaluable, and I hope you never do.”
“Lila was the only one who could help? You could have hired any number of people to take part in your schemes. You could have hired Ms. Poole’s boy, John.”
“Max,” Lemaire corrected. “He never would have gotten involved, not when it might help the same people who imprisoned his mother. He has his own set of morals. Lila has those that we taught her.”
“That you taught her.”
“That we both taught her. Lila is good at what she does, and she’s trustworthy. I needed her help. Saxony needed her help, or I wouldn’t have gotten her involved at all. Your daughter is a heroine, and you should be proud at what’s she done.”
“She’s my daughter, and you nearly got her executed, you stupid, arrogant, selfish asshole. If they find out what you’ve really done, they’ll hang you, and I’ll sit in the first row, toast with a glass of Sangre, and clap while you die.”
The words hung in the air.
Lemaire turned away and stared at the floor.
Beatrice nodded as if punctuating the last echo of her words. “I hope your legacy was worth it, Henri. I hope it was worth the trouble you have caused your daughter and my family, because after tonight, you’ll never see them again. I might not be able to keep you from Shiloh, but I can certainly do as much for Lila. If you do one thing, even one hint of a thing to put them in a position like this again, so help me, Henri, I will destroy you. First your career, then I’ll let my blood squad feast upon your body. You know I have the political capital to take down a prime minister, and you know I’m not bluffing. So you watch yourself, you insignificant little prick.”
Standing, she smoothed out her hair and silvercoat. “Elizabeth, enjoy your last night with your father. Say your goodbyes, and don’t you ever trouble him for another visit. It will only prove his downfall.”
“Beatrice. Please.” Lemaire followed her clacking boots to the apartment door and slipped his arms around her. “Don’t go like this, not tonight. I’m begging you.”
The chairwoman wrenched herself away. “Don’t touch me like that ever again.”
The apartment door slammed shut behind her.
Lila sat up on the couch, looking away from her view of the vestibule, looking away from her father, the once prime minister, as he leaned against the door to his suite, doubled over like he’d been punched in the gut.
“I’ve never heard her curse before,” she said when he finally returned.
“I’m not sure if I have, either. I didn’t set up any meeting between you, if that’s what you’re thinking. She stayed after the party and yelled at me for far longer than I thought.”
“It’s Beatrice Randolph. You should have known.”
“I probably should have. She doesn’t know about my retirement yet. No one does. Thanks for not saying anything.” He held out his hand and helped her from the couch, leading her into the dining room. It had been decorated in much the same way as his parlor, with roses and thorny stems carved into the table legs. The chairs had been padded with golden fabric, and silver platters sat before their places. “I held the dinner party a tad early this year. We had lunch instead. I apologize for not inviting you, but I knew you wouldn’t want to come, especially with what is going on between you and your mother and your sister.”
“You chose not to get involved for once.”
“I didn’t want to be trapped in a room full of screaming women. I thought I’d take you in stages.”
The pair sat down.
“Looks like you didn’t get your wish,” Lila said.
“I’d hoped it wouldn’t end up like that. Not with her. She’s the love of my life, Lila. My soul mate. My best friend. My shining star.”
Lila shifted uncomfortably. “She’ll always be that, Father. She’ll settle down once her temper’s spent. You’ve always been a couple. You’ll be a couple again.”
“I don’t think that will happen this time.” He squeezed her hand tightly, her bruised knuckles sore and aching in his grip. “Promise me, Lila girl. Promise me, no matter what, you will reconcile with your mother.”
“With her? After what she’s done?”
He let go and scratched his beard. “You’ve always lived in the gray of the law, but when it comes to relationships, you’ve always been so very black and white. Once crossed, you can never just let things go. Your mother is the reverse. She’ll forgive all manner of things if it’s her family, even if that means letting a man like Senator Dubois get injured in the process. Damn the black. Damn the white.”
“All to teach her eldest daughter a lesson? Meanwhile, Jewel prances around in—”
“Prances? If you think your sister has gone unpunished, then you don’t know your mother very well. Losing Senator Dubois and resuming the prime role is the tip of the iceberg for Jewel Randolph. Bea kept her child out of the auction house, but you can hardly blame a mother for that. Despite her bluster, your mother has always had her family’s best interests at heart. She did what she thought was right.”
“She would have let me dangle at the end of a rope.”
“No, she wouldn’t have.” He sighed, raking his scalp. “Lila, she didn’t have a mother, not after her fourteenth birthday. She never had a model of how to behave with you and Jewel. She only had aunts trying to steal the chairwomanship, trying to murder you and her to get it. That’s all she’s known, how to stand with her fists to keep the family from falling apart. She’s been making this all up as she goes along—”
“With rather generous help from psychologists—”
“Because she’s worried. She’s always been so damn worried that things would turn out exactly like this. You were never an easy child for her to manage. Always so stubborn and headstrong. She’s doing the best she can. You don’t make it easy for her.”
“I didn’t know my job was to make things easy.”
“Damn it, Lila, you’re a grown woman, not a child. Cut her some slack,” he said. “I want you to promise me that you will not let this discord come between you forever. Have a break from her if you need it, but return to her as a daughter even if it’s not as a member of the Randolph family or as its prime. I can’t bear to see you both apart.”
“That’s not what you told me a month ago.”
“Perhaps I’ve had a change of heart. Retirement will do that to a man.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“I guess I’ll have to accept that as enough.” He grasped her hand once more, and her injured knuckles called out in agony before he let them go.
“I’m sorry you lost your place on the council, Father.”
“Don’t be. It seems so childish now, wasting my entire life on that
one goal.”
“It wasn’t childish, and your life hasn’t been wasted.”
“Perhaps it only feels that way.” He fiddled with the silver tray before him. “I wanted to spend this evening with you, Lila. You were always my favorite, even though I knew I shouldn’t have had one. Out of all the people I’ve ever known, you’ve always been the most like me and the one who challenged me the most. Odd that those two people should be one and the same. Perhaps it was by genetics or design. Perhaps it’s just a lucky accident, but I feel so honored to call myself your father, so happy that you’ve turned out like you have, so hopeful that I’ve had a least a small hand in it, and so sorry that I almost ruined your reputation.”
“Father—”
“Your mother was right. The committee was right. I should never have had to put you in that position. Mr. Shaw’s replacement has been tasked with improving upon his technical department. Perhaps in the next few years we’ll be able to resolve these situations ourselves.”
Lila bit her lip, not sure what to say. “Well, you’re my favorite father,” she said as she pulled off the lid of her silver platter.
In the plate before her sat a pile of pancakes. Sausage and bacon and eggs and everything else she liked crowded around it, everything she hadn’t gotten to eat in the last few days due to her gunshot.
Even Sangre.
Luckily, a glass of milk sat beside it.
“Breakfast for dinner? Gods, we used to eat like this whenever I came over to visit.” She laughed.
“Yes, until you turned six and branched out into macaroni and cheese. You thought you were so grown up eating dinner for dinner.”
“Mother always hated that you would indulge me.”
“I thought you’d favor it tonight.” Her father removed his tray. A steak as large as his head sat on the plate, along with clouds of mashed potatoes drenched in butter. He poured himself a hearty glass of Sangre to wash it down.
“Father, you can’t eat such things.”
“I can eat whatever I want, Lila girl. I am a man who makes his own decisions. I very often make poor ones. Perhaps this is a poor one too, having this tonight, having you here with me as I do, but I hope you won’t hate me for it later. Stay with me tonight, Lila. Please?”
“Of course, Father.”
He dug in his pocket, withdrew a few white pills, and settled them on the table.
“What’s that?”
“A new prescription,” he answered, patting his heart.
“A doctor didn’t give you that so you could eat what you wanted. But I suppose it’s the eve of the Winter Solstice, and I can always yell at you for it tomorrow. I don’t care what Mother says. I’m not going to stop seeing you just because she threw a snit.”
“See what I mean? You’ve always had a mind of your own.” He picked up his knife and fork and cut into his steak. “Let’s not talk about her any longer tonight. Let’s just eat dinner and watch a movie, just like the old days. Let’s pretend you’re a kid again and forget about everything going on outside these doors. That would make me a very happy man indeed.”
Lila chewed a bite of her pancake. Perhaps she could use a bit of pretending too.
Perhaps she needed to tell him about what grew inside her belly, and who had put it there. Her father would say the right thing. He always did.
Perhaps she’d tell him in the morning over breakfast.
The pair ate slowly, laughing at private jokes, recalling things from her childhood. Her father seemed sad tonight, quickly lapsing into silences until Lila brought him out again with yet another “Hey, do you remember that time when…” Moments of Shiloh running though Falcon Home, diaper abandoned because he hated clothes, just like Lila when she’d been that age. Moments of Lila’s earliest exploits in Bullstow, being returned with a permanent pout etched into her face because she’d been caught.
Soon, her father lapsed into another silence.
Lila excused herself and returned with the box tied in gold ribbon. “I brought your gift for the solstice. I hope it serves you well in retirement.”
Her father pulled the strings on the bow. He slipped off the lid and dug carefully through the golden tissue paper, crinkling at his touch. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Lila.”
“I always get you something for the solstices. Why wouldn’t I get you something this time? It might not be as good as a box of cigars, but—”
“No, it’s perfect.” Her father lifted a curved piece of ash from the wrapping. He rubbed the boomerang with a heavy thumb and looked into her eyes. “This is exactly what I needed tonight, Lila. Thank you.”
He dug into his pocket and pulled out a silver heart pendant on a rope chain. “I didn’t get a chance to wrap it. I thought it was a locket when I bought it at the shop. I thought I might be able to hide something inside. Alas, it seems I’m out of luck.”
Lila rubbed her thumb against the ridges and joints. It looked as though it had been broken into pieces, polished, then put back together and polished further. “I might have made the same mistake,” she admitted before slipping it over her head.
The chain tugged at her neck, heavier and less delicate than other pendants she’d worn.
“It’s beautiful, Father. I’ll treasure it always.” She hopped off the couch. “How about a cup of tea?”
“I’d love one.”
She skittered to the kitchen, digging through his cabinets. While the water boiled, she sent a message to the oracle. My father asked me to stay the night. Please give Kenna my apologies. I’ll return to the compound tomorrow, and I need to talk with you then. It seems that Mr. Tobias Shaw will be up for auction soon. None of the families will bid if you express interest. He can help your sisters secure their compounds. Just remember, his loyalty will always remain with Saxony and Bullstow.
Be well tonight, Mòr wrote back. Come see me when you return to the compound, no matter the time. We’ll talk then.
Lila slipped her palm back into her pocket, waiting for the kettle. Her mother could kiss her ass. She’d never give up her father’s retirement. Lila had once felt that she hadn’t been more than an employee to him, but that wasn’t true. They’d just always been so damn busy. After his retirement, they’d have time.
Perhaps it was a blessing.
Was it awful to find joy in his disappointment?
She made up the tea and brought the kettle and mugs into the den. He’d just put in a movie, something with cartoon animals that seemed vaguely familiar.
“Come on, it’ll be like the old days.” He finally took his heart medication with a last swig of wine.
Lila sat before the screen and poured the tea, then curled her legs underneath her as she settled in beside her father. They listened to the boings and whistles and trills of the cartoon animals as the group marched off to rescue their friends in a land far away. A land she vaguely remembered.
“Oh my gods!” She gasped. “How do I remember this?”
“Because you used to watch it all the time,” he said, yawning. “I think you watched it a hundred times one week. You used to make me watch it too. I’d read through upcoming legislation while this movie played, waiting for you to fall asleep so I could mute it.”
Lila elbowed him in the side. “It looks like you’re the one who might fall asleep tonight.”
“Not for a while yet.” He patted his knee. “Come on, Lila girl. You look tired.”
Lila wasn’t tired, but sitting up for so long had done her no favors. Holding her side, she sprawled over the couch and put her head on her father’s knee, just as she done when she was young. Her father laid his head back on the couch and watched the screen. One hand stroked the boomerang, the other played with her hair.
“You shouldn’t have eaten so much,” she said. “You’ll pay for it tomorrow.”
“No, I won’t
,” he mumbled sleepily. “I’m really happy that you’re here with me tonight, Lila girl. I didn’t want to be alone. Maybe that makes me selfish. No, it does make me selfish, but you always land on your feet. You always know what to do.”
Lila rolled toward him, wincing as her wound protested the movement.
“This is the best part.” He pointed at the screen with his boomerang, his hand lilting to the side drunkenly. “Do you remember how it ends?”
“Vaguely. How much Sangre did you drink tonight?”
“Just watch, Lila girl. Just turn around and watch.”
Lila did as he bid. Predictably, as had happened so often as a child, her father’s hand stilled on her hair. She nearly laughed, for she remembered how much her father snored when he fell asleep. Sometimes he snored so loud that he woke himself up.
But this time he didn’t. He dozed quietly on amid the trills and whistles and songs.
She tugged on his fingers as the cartoon animals approached the monster in the tower, too sore to turn. “Father, you’re going to miss the end.”
He did not answer.
Lila swiveled her head. Her father had grown pale and still.
She sat up with a start, not caring as her side called out in pain.
The cartoon characters sang a merry song behind her as they triumphed over their foes and reunited with their friends.
Lila ignored them. She shook her father’s shoulder, but he didn’t wake. Instead his head fell back, his body heavy.
With shaking fingers, Lila pressed against his neck.
No pulse.
The boomerang fell to the floor as she reached for her palm. She quickly called the front desk of Falcon Home. “Call Dr. Booth. The prime minister has had a heart attack. Have someone bring an AED.”
She put the line on speaker and pushed her father down on the couch.
Ripping open his shirt, she crouched above him and began CPR.
Chapter 32
Lila gripped her side as she peeked through the window of the emergency room suite, her wound aching after five minutes of compressions, a swift ride in a jostling cart, and another forty minutes of peering at Dr. Booth and his team as they worked. Booth and another doctor had continued pressing upon her father’s chest, shocking him with paddles, and inserting needles and tubes into his body. Several nurses flitted in and out of the room, jumping as the doctors barked orders.