Perhaps Saxony had been a much bigger chessboard.
Perhaps the Randolph compounds were so much smaller in comparison.
“I have my ways.”
“Yes, you do. You like games too, Pax. You dabble in intrigue too much for your own good. Perhaps you shouldn’t choose medicine after all.”
Her brother laughed. “Being prime isn’t so bad, is it? You’ll control everything after Mother retires. You can do whatever you want then.”
Lila wanted to contradict Pax. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t want to control everything, that she only wanted to make everyone safe.
“Think of what you can make of the hospital when you’re prime. You could turn it into a whole system spread throughout Saxony.” Pax’s eyes shone, partly due to his youthful optimism and partly due to his calling. Lila wasn’t sure if she had been the one to instill this drive toward medicine or if it had been Holly’s death, but she was glad that the boy had found his purpose early. He already volunteered at Randolph Hospital several times a week, and would go more if he could fit it around his studies, which must have been why Ms. Beaumont tarried so late.
Lila had expressly forbidden Pax from doing more volunteer work. His interest in medicine had only increased since his best friend Trevor had died several months back. Trevor had been stabbed in front of him, murdered, though no one really understood why. None of Lila’s private spies had turned up any answers.
Lila hadn’t either.
Pax had retreated into himself immediately after. No one could get him to return to boarding school, for he was determined to become a trauma surgeon as soon as possible. He told everyone that the rest of the students slowed him down, but Lila knew the real reason. He simply couldn’t walk down the halls without his friend, a friend that Lila knew had been far more than a friend.
She wondered if Pax had even realized it.
Lila had banned him from too much time at the hospital, hoping that he wouldn’t use it as a crutch to retreat, but she didn’t think it was helping. He rarely went out unless it was to visit the hospital or the library. He’d become something of a hermit.
Lila stood up and grabbed his chin affectionately. “That was a really good pep talk. Bullstow would have been lucky to have you,” she said, and kissed his cheek.
He twisted his face in annoyance.
“What? Have you gotten too old for kisses from your sister?”
“No, I’m just glad I don’t have to live in Bullstow. I couldn’t imagine having to give speeches all day.”
Lila nearly laughed at his horrified expression. It was true that Pax was not skilled in the masculine arts. He was neither witty nor skilled at diplomacy and public speaking. For all his rowdy bluster with family and friends, he sometimes still blushed when he greeted a stranger. Even if Pax practiced all his life, Lila doubted that he could make a speech before a room of ten friends, much less High House.
It had only gotten worse after Trevor died.
Pax would never be able to take a role with another highborn family, in politics or negotiations among the houses. Unfortunately, the only things masculine about her brother were his size and his skill in taking care of people. That, coupled with his rather prodigious brain, gave her hope for a successful marriage, for the pool of men who favored men among the highborn, at least enough to marry, was quite small, and she wanted him to have his pick.
Regardless of marriage, Lila knew that she would be able to find a use for him, either as a doctor at Randolph General if he could get over his difficulty speaking with strangers, or as a researcher at Grace Medical if he could not. The pay would not be enough for him to leave the family, not if he wanted to afford the life that he had grown accustomed to with his dividends, but Pax was not the sort who would leave.
Besides, he’d never have to leave his family. Any husband with any brains would agree to become a Randolph if given half a chance, highborn or not.
Lila gave Pax a last pat on the cheek. “Go study, you old gossip, or I’ll have to pay a thousand bribes to get you into medical school.”
Pax chuckled at his sister and returned to Ms. Beaumont and the large stack of books spread out on the table.
Chapter 7
Commander Sutton hopped to her feet as soon as Lila entered the parlor. A stout woman in her mid-fifties, she wore her blackcoat as elegantly as an evening gown. She could also take down a man twice her size, not that she needed to rely on hand-to-hand. She’d been a sniper in the army, a sniper who had only gotten more and more experienced with her endless practice at the gun range. As Lila’s mentor, she’d demanded the same relentlessness with her charge. Lila had become one of the best shots in all of Saxony under her and Sergeant Jenkins’s tutelage.
Lila had never been worth much at hand-to-hand, though. Since she could bull’s-eye a target at fifty meters in a fraction of a second, besting all but a few shooters in Saxony, she didn’t see the problem with being horrible on the mat. She’d decided a long time ago that avoidance and distance were the best ways of handling herself.
Speak softly and carry a rather large gun.
It might not have helped her with Peter and Reaper, but it had saved her and her friends at the warehouse.
Lila sat across from the gray-haired commander, choosing a spot on a white leather sofa, large enough for Pax to stretch across. The commander plopped down in the thick armchair across from her.
“I apologize for keeping you from the security office,” Lila said in greeting, glad that Alex had already put out a kettle of hot chocolate for their meeting.