by Nyna Queen
And if that Roukewood-guy got elected, her days and the days of any other shaper were numbered, anyway.
Alex shook her head. Maybe if she just went back to her room and pulled the blanket over her head, they would simply forget that she existed.
“Restless sleeper?”
The sudden sound of a female voice behind her made Alex jump, spilling hot coffee all over the sensitive skin of her hands. Suppressing a curse, Alex stuck a finger into her mouth and wheeled around.
Where the kitchen wall ended, in front of a bed of climbing roses, a recessed corner contained a love-seat and a garden table surrounded by several chairs. A woman in a heavy, dark blue dressing gown occupied one of the chairs, holding a coffee mug.
Her dark, chocolate-brown hair flowed unrestrained around a slim, classically beautiful face and cascaded down her shoulders in gentle curls. Well, Alex didn’t have to do any guesswork. Same delicate bone structure, same pale complexion. It was like looking into a time-mirror and seeing an older, more mature version of Josy.
Sweet Jester, she must have been sitting there the whole time.
When Alex didn’t say anything, the woman put her mug down on the tabletop, rose gracefully, and walked around the table. Even clad in just a simple dressing gown, her movements looked elegant and regal, as if she were the queen at a ball, walking toward an invisible throne.
For a short, blazing moment Alex fiercely envied her: for her beauty, her poise, her pure blood, her children—for everything about her life. Everything that she could never have.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said in a lilting voice that reminded Alex of a silver river, gentle and melodious. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m a bit of an early morning person myself, though I must admit that I didn’t expect anybody else to be up and about at such an early time.”
She stopped about an arm’s length from Alex. About a hand span shorter than her, she made up for it with the unmistakable confidence of someone who belongs.
“I’m Edalyne, Josepha and Maxwell’s mother.”
Not quite sure how to respond and recalling her last debacle with Stephane, Alex made an awkward curtsy but the woman laughed and pulled her up by her shoulders. “Don’t be silly, dear. We’re not at court or in Parliament.” She cocked her head to the side. “So. You must be the spider everyone is talking about. I must admit, after all the lively descriptions I received, I pictured you a little … differently.”
Alex stiffened. “With a few more legs, likely.”
The chuckle of the woman was velvety and gently amused. “Not quite. But considering all the heroic tales, I thought you must be taller and not so young … and pretty.”
“Well, looks can be deceiving,” Alex said warily, pushing a blond strand behind her ear.
“Oh, clearly they can,” the other woman said, her amusement never leaving her face. As the kids’ mother, she must be at least mid-thirties, but the only hint of age betraying the youthfulness of her appearance were the fine laugh lines at the corners of her clove-brown eyes. Guess a sheltered life allowed you to age gracefully.
“I didn’t have the chance to speak to you yesterday and I’m sure my husband has already expressed our deepest gratitude”—Alex choked on her coffee—“but I wanted to thank you personally for helping our children. My family is deeply indebted to you. We don’t take these matters lightly and we’ll do anything in our power to repay your kindness.”
Yeah, so they kept saying. And then they would push an invisible knife into your chest.
Probably guessing what she was thinking, Edalyne smiled. “My children speak very fondly of you.”
Feeling embarrassed by the statement for no obvious reason, Alex fiddled with her mug. It shouldn’t matter what a pair of spoiled trueborn aristo kids thought about her, but somehow it did. And she cared for them, too. More than she wanted to admit.
“As does my brother-in-law,” Edalyne added with a slight edge.
Alex tried not to flinch. Thinking about Darken made her want to curl up into a tight ball to escape this horrible feeling of dizziness and pain that always came with his image—like a shot of poison to her veins.
So, he’d said nice things about her. Well, sure he had. After all, she had helped his niece and nephew. And he thought she was capable. Apparently, he’d even started to trust her a little. And he’d cared enough to save her. Too bad he didn’t care enough to take it anywhere further.
Edalyne seemed to feel her uneasiness because she looked away. Her gaze turned toward the trees in the distance, where the pale golden glow of the rising sun spilled through the highest branches, setting the treetops alight with snowy flames.
Alex felt the need to say something, just to break the silence.
“You know about the plan?” Saying the word “plan” out loud made this whole thing sound even more ridiculous.
“In fact, I do. Stephane let me in on the details last night.” A frown puckered Edalyne’s silky forehead. “I admit that I was a little concerned.”
“Why? You think it won’t work?” Maybe if the two of them could join forces against this dominant male insanity …
“Oh no, dear, don’t worry.” Edalyne waved a dismissive hand. “If my husband thinks it will work, I trust him. He is very good at these things.”
Right. Forget about the female alliance.
How any sane person could trust that maniac was beyond Alex. But this woman obviously did. After all, she had married him. Which meant Alex had to be careful around her. She seemed all nice and peachy now, but spouses often had more in common than met the eye. Just her luck, that in their case, it seemed to be complete lunacy.
“It is pretty brave, what you agreed to do,” Edalyne noted.
Alex snorted. “Have been made to agree to is more like it.”
The other woman chuckled again, all bells and chimes. “Oh, I can imagine. Those two men are quite a handful to deal with.”
No shit!
Leaning forward, Edalyne put a hand on Alex’s arm. “Now dear, let’s be frank. How proficient is your knowledge of the customs of the royal elite?”
Alex bit her lip. Non-existent would probably be a very bad starting point.
She exhaled. “When I was very young, I spent some time in a household of minor trueborn nobility.” That’s it, make it sound impersonal. Let them think her parents had served there or something. It would explain her basic knowledge of the elevated society, without inducing awkward questions about her past … and her sire. “I picked up a little here and there, but, to be honest, I wouldn’t trust myself to be able to ask for the shitter without giving myself away.”
Edalyne blinked. “Oh dear,” she muttered.
Alright, maybe she shouldn’t have used the word “shitter.”
The other woman let out a sigh. “I understand my dearest mother-in-law is coming over around noon to give you an ‘immersive experience,’ so to speak, yes?” She made it sound like a death sentence. Alex’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That’s what I was told.”
“Alright then.” Before Alex knew what was happening, Edalyne had taken her arm and was gently but firmly leading her back to the house. “That should give us just enough time for some basic preparations.”
HELOISE Armande Clemence Zepheryne Tylène Dubois-Marcrant was a thin woman in her sixties, with steel-gray hair pinned into a tight bun and drooping lips that were pursed in a constant sneer, who liked to boss people around and couldn’t be satisfied by anyone or anything. It took Alex less than thirty seconds in her presence to gather as much.
The preceding hours, she had spent in Edalyne’s private suite, being brushed and groomed and powdered until she was feeling edgy enough to sink her teeth into the next person that touched her. Josepha’s mother and a group of more or less enthusiastic maids had first dyed her hair in a more common shade of blond, then stuffed her into a silky tea gown with a ridiculous number of buttons at the back, and even added a little makeup to—as Edalyne put it—
“soften her edges” a bit, while Josy had whirred around them the entire time like a nervous little moth, solemnly checking if every hair was in place.
Alex didn’t understand what all the fuss was about until the old lady swept into the drawing room like a storm cloud, elegant gray skirts billowing around her willowy body, trailed by a flock of breathless servants.
Without sparing Alex so much as a glance, she dismissed the servants with a flick of her fingers and swooped down on Edalyne, the closed fan in her right hand raised as if she wanted to slap her daughter-in-law with it.
“Please, tell me this is all a giant hoax! My eldest son must have finally lost his mind!” The fan cut the air only inches from Edalyne’s face.
Edalyne, who to Alex’s deepest admiration didn’t recoil, watched the old lady with a patient expression on her face.
“Heloise. We’re so glad you could make it on such short notice. Now, why don’t we all calm down and have a seat? The children—”
“Yes, what did they do now? Brought home another stray mutt, have they?”
Josy, who was standing behind her mother, gasped.
“Heloise!” Edalyne exclaimed.
“Heloise, Heloise,” the old woman mimicked and waved her wrinkled fingers. “Don’t you Heloise me. I’m just saying it the way it is.”
With a sigh, Edalyne folded her hands, while Josy watched their exchange with huge eyes. “Heloise, please. We’re not doing this to aggravate you and you know it. We’re trying to find out who has been targeting your son—and your grandchildren. You do want to find out who tried to abduct the children, don’t you?”
The old lady scowled.
Ah, Edalyne was sneaky, too, you had to give it to her. Alex could imagine her working with Stephane very well: he the stick and she the sweet-sweet carrot. Oh, she’d bet many crafty politicians, considering the gentle woman no threat beside her snorting bull of a husband, left an idle conversation, wondering why their pants were hanging around their knees, while Edalyne was smiling and twirling their belt.
“I understand this is rather … unconventional,” Edalyne said, “but before you make up your mind, would you at least take a moment to talk to her? Please? For the children?”
The old lady heaved a sigh. “Very well.” You’d think she’d just agreed to personally treat a leper.
With another withering glance at her daughter-in-law, she majestically turned to Alex, measuring her from top to bottom with a look of pure contempt. Her lips crinkled.
Alex, who so far had done her best to stand quietly on the sidelines and look more or less demure—despite the growing urge to go over and kick that woman’s skinny ass—couldn’t help but raise her chin in response to the appraising glance. She knew that look. Oh, she knew it. It was the same look she’d received from “Auntie” Sheila and so many others in her time. The look that was reserved for an insect that soiled the ground with its very presence. One that was only fit to be squashed beneath the heel of a boot. Inside her, the spider hissed in defiance.
This woman had made up her mind about her—about her kind—before she’d even entered the room and there would be nothing that Alex could do or say to dissuade her from this preconceived notion. She knew people like that. And usually, if she encountered them, she’d leave before it could result in a violent clash. Only this time there was nowhere for her to go. Even worse, they were supposed to work together. Now, didn’t that sound like fun?
Her inspection complete, the old lady half-turned back to Edalyne. “Well, she’s pretty enough, I suppose.” Even that she managed to make sound like an insult. “Does she speak?”
“Loudly and clearly,” Alex announced sharply. “I even wash my hands after taking a piss.”
“Crude and vulgar.” Heloise dabbed her forehead with a lilac-scented tissue. “But I suppose that was to be expected.”
She leaned toward Alex with a taunting glow in her eyes, causing the wrinkles on her neck to fold.
“Singing? Painting? Crocheting?” Her thin lips began to sneer. “Do you have any wisp of talent in these fine arts? Anything I could work with? Poetry, perhaps? No?” The sound of her voice made it clear that she didn’t expect Alex to be talented at anything, except maybe in converting oxygen into carbon dioxide. And what a waste of good oxygen, too.
Alex bared her teeth in a smile. “I’m pretty good with knives,” she replied with the sweetest venom. “And I can change a car tire in no time if that qualifies me in any way.”
Blotches of color mottled the old woman’s cheeks. “You think this is all a big joke, don’t you? An amusing little game. Well, let me tell you, missy, a pretty face isn’t everything! You’ll need a lot more than that to survive among the elite and what I see so far does not show much promise.”
“Don’t be unfair, Heloise,” Edalyne said quietly. “It is hardly Alex’s fault that she didn’t have the privilege to be brought up to the standards of our society.”
“Fault? Bah!” Heloise made a dismissive gesture. “My Marquel would turn over in his grave, if he could hear you!” She shook her head. “You’re asking me to queen a pawn who knows nothing about the rules of the game she’s entered. That is the easiest way to get check-mated. Mark my words. Just look at her! No kind of upbringing would turn this brazen hussy—”
That about did it! “Look, I didn’t exactly volunteer for this job!” Alex snapped. “I’m here because I have no choice and I want this mess sorted out just as much as you do. You have a problem with what I am? Fine. You’re not the first. Get the t-shirt! I’m very sorry that I don’t possess any of your venerated ‘lady qualities’ but, to be honest, I’ve had enough of your insults. So are you gonna keep behaving like a snarly old bitch who’s got a fart stuck up her ass, or are you actually going to help?”
The room was suddenly very quiet. Edalyne’s mouth hung open. Josy had turned deathly pale.
Ah shit! She might have overstepped just a smidgen.
The old woman clenched her skirts, making a sound like a boiling teakettle.
Shit, shit, shit! They wouldn’t execute her for this, would they?
After a couple of seconds though, Heloise regained her composure. She smoothed out her skirt and turned to Edalyne. “Please be so kind as to give the two of us a moment. I wish to speak to her … alone.”
Worry crossed Edalyne’s face before she nodded stiffly. She put her arm around Josy’s slim shoulders and led her outside. The girl gave Alex an unmistakably frightened glance before she vanished through the door.
Alex was about to protest but before she could utter a word, the door closed and she was alone with the old shrew. Great!
“Now.” Heloise spun on her heels and marched toward Alex, slapping her fan in the open palm of her other hand, and Alex had to remind herself that, no matter her physical condition, she had nothing to fear from an elderly lady with a piece of wood and lace in her hands.
Heloise halted a couple of feet away and managed to look down on Alex from below. “Since my eldest seems to have made up his mind, I believe we don’t have much of a choice about this … this farce. But I won’t be talked to like that, ever again. Not in this house. Not by the likes of you!”
Ouch!
The fan scraped the underside of Alex’s chin, forcing her head back. “If I agree to coach you—and the Great Mother have mercy on me if I do—you will follow my directions without question. No complaints. No backtalk. You will do as I say when I say it, or we are done. Understood?”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Understood.”
“Understood, madame.”
Alex gritted her teeth. “Understood, madame.”
Heloise raised a thin, penciled eyebrow. “We shall see about that. Now, strip.”
Alex blinked. “What?”
“Excuse me, or I beg your pardon.”
“For what?”
The old woman closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as if fighting a serious headache. “A lady”—she pronounced the word with cri
sp exactness—“never says ‘what.’ Water comes from the faucet. A lady uses more elaborate phrases, such as ‘I beg your pardon’ or, at the very least, ‘excuse me’ should the occasion arise in which she does not understand her conversational partner.”
Jester’s fucking grace, this would be plain torture.
When Alex just stared at her, she waved a hand. “Go on, try it. Or is even this simple phrase already posing too much of a challenge for you?”
Oh yes, torture barely covered it.
Alex unlocked her jaw with great difficulty. “I beg your pardon, madame.”
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Heloise sneered. “As for your question, if I may perceive it as such: I asked you to strip down. Undress. Remove your clothing. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Why?”
“I believe I made myself quite clear about the way we will work together, did I not? If you are going to question all of my instructions, we may as well admit defeat right now.”
Clenching her teeth so hard that her cheeks started to hurt, Alex began to unbutton her dress. When she was done, it slid down her legs, landing in a heap around her feet, leaving her exposed, except for her underwear.
Brandishing her fan, Heloise stalked around Alex like a vulture, slowly looking her up and down.
A thin finger poked her shoulder and Alex flinched.
The old woman pursed her lips. “Deceptively human.”
What had she expected? Fur? A forked tail? Probably.
Another stab, this time to the ribs.
