The Lost of New Bristol (Lila Randolph Book 2)

by Wren Weston

  But hadn’t he changed after the Wilson riot?

  What if he hadn’t? What if his misgivings were only temporary? What if he truly thought a highborn deserved death? Would he take the next step now that he had killed once? Would he seek it out? Would he begin to enjoy it?

  Lila shook her head. She couldn’t see it happening. Screw the oracle’s vision—she wasn’t about to take to killing, either. She would never kill anyone, not unless she must kill for self-defense, not unless her Colt malfunctioned and she must resort to her boot knife. After all, she would have killed Peter Kruger if she’d had a weapon. She hadn’t wanted to die.

  Lila rubbed her lips, watching the seconds tick by on her computer.

  With great resolve, she pulled herself up in her seat. She couldn’t beg off the High Council meeting. It just wasn’t done. All judges attended a new family’s proposal, regardless of health. An early slight against Ms. Park might turn the woman into a rival, rather than an ally.

  She must spare the hour for the council meeting and for dinner as well. Not going downstairs would only lead to more interruptions later, and she needed to eat, anyway.

  Before she left, she wrote a few lines of code to search for more information about Natalie’s brothels, cross-checking the information she’d already found against every address and person on her unculled list of accomplices, the list she had not removed any highborn from.

  At least her computer would do something useful during the council meeting.

  Lila pulled on a formal uniform and dressed carefully for dinner, dabbing more concealer on her still purple jaw. Then she slowly descended the stairs and entered the dining room. Her family already sat at their places at the table. An artisan had carved a racing pack of wolves into the side. Their howling brethren had also been carved into the legs.

  A matching chair had been pushed out beside her brother Shiloh, who wore the golden coat and breeches of a Bullstow graduate and senate intern. It wasn’t often that her brother visited the family, finding his matron far less entertaining than his thousand fathers at Bullstow. It usually took the prime minister’s visit during Family Week to drag him to the compound.

  He winked at her as the rest of the family enjoyed their soup.

  Senator Dubois had come too, and sat beside his lover. He sent Jewel long glances, her sister a far more beautiful copy of her older sister, with blonde hair and the same large eyes. Whenever Dubois looked away, Jewel did the same to him.

  Lila nearly gagged.

  In the corner, Alex stood before the hand-painted crimson wallpaper. It was as if her back had been glued to a board, she stood so straight and tall and unnaturally.

  Lila took her place beside Shiloh. Her mother had chosen Alex to serve the family dinner for a reason. The move would only escalate matters. She’d push the slave to slip before the family and the prime minister, and have the perfect excuse to cast her aside.

  Who would buy Alex at auction now? If she couldn’t behave around the prime minister and had assaulted her best friend, then who would be safe? Besides, everyone knew that she had outlived her usefulness. She’d become a torn-up lottery ticket, a busted toy, useful for nothing except her family’s humiliation. But even that would quickly expire, for after her matron’s execution, there would be no one around to care about Alex. Indeed, everyone in the family had ended up as slaves or criminals or workborn in the end. They probably all blamed Alex, and would enjoy the thought of her humiliation.

  If she’d continued as Lila’s friend, then Alex might have been saved. But she’d separated herself from Lila’s good graces, and the chairwoman would press the issue.

  At dinner.

  This, and many other reasons, was why Lila detested taking meals with her mother. It was never about the damn food.

  Lila spooned her soup and tried not to look at Alex, for it might only set her temper off. Instead, she nodded to Senator Dubois, who had marked her presence with a smile. “You’re joining us this evening, senator. It’s a rare treat indeed.”

  “I was just telling Jewel how we were making plans to ride soon.”

  “Perhaps Jewel would like to join us,” Lila offered, feeling gracious under the brewing storm cloud. “We could rent another bike.”

  “I have a bike now.” Jewel shrugged.

  “Ah, but you’ve only ridden on a Firefly. We could rent something more rugged, more pedestrian. Perhaps an Amazon or a Barracuda.”

  “Are they really all that different?”

  “You could always check them out. If that doesn’t suit you, we could always attach a sidecar to your Firefly.” Lila intended it as a joke. She winked at Dubois, whose eyes bugged out at the thought of attaching a sidecar to such a fine motorbike.

  That was when Lila realized her mistake. Jewel, ever the artist seeking new experiences, leaned back into her chair. “A sidecar?”

  “Perhaps you could don a pair of goggles and a fetching scarf to complete the look. I’m sure it would add to the experience.”

  Jewel’s face crumbled into annoyance. “Don’t mock me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Lila’s gaze slipped automatically to Alex.

  In years past, they would have shared a secret grin over Jewel’s remarks. Perhaps even a little eye roll if her mother became particularly demanding and matronly over some frivolous event. But this time, Alex wouldn’t meet her eyes. She stared at the opposite wall like a good little slave, waiting to clear away the dishes and bring out the next course.

  The chairwoman would not be so appeased. “I think that’s a lovely idea, Jewel. You need a break from the office. Perhaps you could turn it into a long weekend. I enjoy the idea of my daughters spending more time together.” She cut her eyes to Lila, a checkmate playing on loop. She knew how much it would annoy Lila to spend so much time with Jewel.

  It wasn’t that Lila hated Jewel; she just didn’t get her. Jewel’s mind was composed of paint and canvas, of wax and wood, of blowtorches and metal. Lila, on the other hand, had never been creative. She bent code to her will, used it to peek into things she shouldn’t, to work mischief. She used bravado and lockpicks to poke and prod where she didn’t belong.

  Lila only made an effort because Jewel had taken over as prime.

  Her sister nodded. “That sounds lovely. Perhaps I will try a sidecar, though for a short afternoon trip rather than a long one. I might not enjoy it. Louis, you should go on a longer ride with Lila, if you can get away. You need to shake off the stress of the session.”

  Jewel had learned. She’d satisfied her sister, her mother, and her lover in one suggestion. Perhaps she wouldn’t be such a useless matron after all. “That’s a fine idea,” Lila said.

  “I do have them occasionally.”

  “You seem to have them more and more often lately, President Randolph.”

  Realizing what Lila meant, Jewel blushed. It was rare that Lila complimented anyone, and Jewel had always been particularly eager for her older sister’s approval.

  The chairwoman frowned and spooned her soup, somewhat defeated by her daughters. “So, Lila, the High Council meeting is tonight. You’ll admit Ms. Park into the highborn?”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “Good. She’s the best candidate in all of New Bristol, and she owes us many favors already. The Randolphs have been instrumental in her family’s rise. She’ll make a find addition to the highborn and become an ally, rather than a rival.”

  “I concur. She has enough capital to become a major player in New Bristol within the next generation if her daughter is her equal.”

  “Agreed. The Parks are nothing like those disgraceful Wilsons. It was a bad decision for the High Council to admit them into the highborn. Your great-grandmother Ophelia was shrewd enough to vote against their inclusion, did you know that?”

  “Yes, madam.”

  “It’s a pity t
hat no one else listened.”

  Alex kept her gaze on the wall.

  The other diners shifted in discomfort.

  “You’ve told me the story, madam.” Lila scrambled to change the flow of the dinner conversation. “I’m extremely curious to see what colors Ms. Park will propose for her family. Her coat of arms, too. What do think, Pax?”

  “A lime dragon? Perhaps a tigress atop a field of calming blue?”

  “I think either choice would serve her family well,” Senator Dubois replied.

  Pax beamed and took a large spoonful of soup. Dubois had the same effect on the boy as her father, encouraging him to eat and smile when he otherwise wouldn’t.

  “How’s Father’s Week?” Lila asked the senator, forging ahead. “You spent some time with your cousin’s children the other day. Was it nice having a practice run for the real thing?”

  Dubois laughed and squeezed Jewel’s hand. Her sister paled and sipped her soup, not saying a word in answer. Perhaps it was guilt. Perhaps her sister had begun wondering if she was the reason the pair couldn’t conceive.

  “It was very nice. We had a great deal of fun at the park. You should have come too, Pax. Your father misses you. Perhaps tomorrow?”

  “Perhaps. I have a lot of studying to do.”

  “The boy is always studying,” Chairwoman Randolph said offhandedly. She looked over her spoon to her eldest daughter. “Lila, don’t do anything that slights Ms. Park tonight. The last thing we need is another—”

  “You mean I shouldn’t advise Ms. Park to select a mole for her family’s coat of arms? Or a squirrel?”

  “A sheep?” added Pax with a soft chuckle.

  Lila poked her little brother in the belly. Her giggle was somewhat stunted when she realized how flat his stomach had gotten. Perhaps she’d buy some chocolate from Violet’s to tempt him. The boy always had a sweet tooth. “A vulture?”

  “A minnow?” Shiloh offered, not wanting to be left out but fighting all the decorum he’d learned at Bullstow.

  “A tapeworm!”

  “A flea!”

  “A roach!”

  “A stinkbug!” Lila said, raising her arms as though she’d won a race.

  Her father pursed his lips, trying very hard not chuckle and encourage their impropriety.

  Even Alex’s face lit up with a fraction of a smirk.

  Jewel frowned. “Why not a beautiful like a peacock or a—”

  “Children.” The chairwoman clapped for silence. “Ms. Park doesn’t need your suggestions. She’s likely had her coat of arms designed for years. Everyone has known the Wilsons would fall eventually. It has only happened sooner than expected, what with the executions looming.”

  “Madam,” Lila said, a tone of warning entering her voice.

  “What, Lila? We all knew they’d fall, given the family’s poor breeding and poor business sense. They’ve never been anything but workborns and criminals putting on airs. Now they are back where they belong.”

  “Madam.”

  “Everyone’s said it for years. Barely educated, barely refined, completely inelegant. You should have heard the stories about Celeste when I attended Bokington.”

  Lila put down her spoon, her gaze flashing quickly to Alex. Her old friend stared at the wall, her jaw tight. They’d heard plenty of stories when they attended the highborn university. None of them had been pleasant and most of them had been made up. Lila seriously doubted that Alex’s mother had ever mixed her drinks with chicken blood or participated in orgies with workborn, much less film them.

  Her mother noticed the rage in Alex’s eyes, and grinned victoriously. “You know, I heard about this one time when Celeste—”

  “Mother, you’re being needlessly cruel.”

  “I’m just making conversation. Tell me, has Bullstow set a date for her and her son’s execution? I think I should like to attend. Chairwoman Holguín might even tempt me into drinking a glass of Sangre. It’s been two decades since I’ve—”

  “Mother.”

  “What? I’d just like to pay my respects,” she said, and took a sip of her Gregorie. “Can’t a matron drink to another matron as she goes not so gently into that good night?”

  Lila stood up and nodded to the others at the table. “Dinner was lovely, but I have a—”

  “Sit down,” her mother said sharply, her own tone of warning creeping into her voice. “We haven’t even had the salmon yet. Besides, Chef has made some of her famous petit fours for dessert. Why let a little thing like the Wilson matron keep you from them?”

  “It’s not the Wilson matron who’s keeping me from them. Who’s the inelegant one now?”

  “Sit down.”

  “Then stop baiting the help, Mother. It’s low.”

  The rest of the room stared at their soup awkwardly. She couldn’t believe her father hadn’t jumped in yet, either to call out her mother or to support Lila while she forged ahead.

  The chairwoman’s nostrils flared. Lila hadn’t seen her matron so angry in years. “Don’t you dare ‘Mother’ me, Elizabeth. Not when Celeste and her bratty spawn tried to kill you. You, my eldest daughter! Maybe you’ve forgiven them, but I haven’t. If they’d hired someone competent for the murder, you’d be dead right now and none of us would have had the pleasure of your company for dinner, such as it is.”

  “That has nothing to do with—”

  “With Ms. Wilson?” her mother said, placing her spoon onto the table. “Doesn’t it? I’m not baiting her, Lila, I’m giving her one last chance to prove that she can hold her temper. Some best friend you chose. If you’d tossed her away like I’d advised and found one of better quality, you could have a real friend at your side to work through whatever it is you’re feeling, whatever issues have crept up from being nearly murdered a block away from your own compound, from being tranqed and left for dead on the sidewalk like common gutter trash. Instead you barely eat and you run off to do gods know what in the middle of the night without telling any of us where you are. Or all day when you should be safe in the security office.”

  “Mother—”

  “If you had a real friend, she wouldn’t have turned her back on you after her mother and brother nearly killed you. If they’d had their way, she’d be mourning your death instead of wishing for it. Perhaps the little brat forgets that, but I certainly do not.”

  Lila dropped her gaze, not daring look at Alex’s face.

  “You dare ask me to spare her feelings? What about mine? What about Pax’s?”

  Her brother looked down at his plate, his eyes reddening. It was a red Lila had seen too often in the last week. She’d just chalked it up to Trevor, to a relapse of grief. Perhaps she’d been wrong. Perhaps it had been about almost losing his sister so soon after losing his best friend.

  “What of your own feelings? Her family almost killed you, and you’ve done nothing but obsess about her. It makes me ill. Whatever happened between the pair of you is trivial compared to attempted murder.”

  Dubois licked his lips and patted Jewel’s back.

  Her sister grew pale at his touch.

  None of their discomfort seemed to bother her mother. She merely pushed harder and harder. “I’ve seen how the brat looks at you, when she bothers to look at you at all. Refusing to do her duty and serve you, forcing Isabel to do the job of two and take time away from her family.” The chairwoman faced Alex, who immediately shifted her gaze to the floor. “Then she dares to assault you in front of the High Council? The fact that she laid her hands on you at all is revolting, much less her attitude after you arrested her. I would disgrace myself if I admitted the sort of punishments that have run through my mind since I found out.”

  “Mother—”

  “The brat should be too ashamed to meet your eyes, Elizabeth, too horrified that you almost died by her family’s own hand. A few
hundred years ago, she would have offered you the sword of her family’s militia chief, asking you to plunge it into her heart to free her from her family’s shame. That is why she has poor breeding. You and I understand the depths and bounds of friendship and family. Workborns do not. She does not.”

  “No one does that any longer,” Lila murmured.

  “We understand the sentiment. We do it symbolically. Ms. Wilson does not, and she has the audacity to continue her little snit, not only in private, not only in front of you, but in front of the family and the High Council. She should be hanged with the rest, and good riddance. I could have dangled her before the highborn at parties, but I let her stay here with her dignity because you asked for it. You’ve done too much for the girl. You’ve been a far better friend to her than she’s been to you because you are blind to her true nature. It’s time you figured that out.”

  “She’s my best friend. She’s the most loyal, the most—”

  “Holly was your best friend. Why do you think I let the girl stay on the compound? Why do you think I tried to save her when she grew ill? She had workborn breeding, but a highborn heart, and you dishonor her memory by sticking up for this trash now. Ms. Wilson is not fit to serve the family. You say she’s loyal? Loyal to whom? To you? To Jewel?”

  Jewel swallowed and clenched her spoon.

  “Ms. Wilson isn’t loyal to anyone but herself.”

  “Even if she never speaks to me again, I trust her,” Lila replied. “Until she tells me that she wishes to move to another compound or to another family, she stays.”

  Alex’s eyes met hers for a few moments, then settled back to the floor.

  “That decision is not yours to make, Elizabeth.”

  “Stop calling me Elizabeth, Mother. I’m not five, and I’ve done nothing wrong. But if you try and move Alex out of here, I just might. We’re going to have a problem.”

  Her mother sipped her wine. “You mean this isn’t already a problem?”

  “She’s my friend.”

  “You deserve better. You always have.”

  Lila stood up again and slowly pushed her chair under the table. “You’ve said what you wanted to say, madam. I do not wish to keep the High Council waiting.”