All those days couldn’t be erased by taking away her old things.
But her mother would order it anyway. Her uniforms would be thrown out without a care, just as her mother had thrown out everything she had worked for, just as she might throw out the childhood toys of a teenage girl. Toys she had clung to, rather than growing apart from.
Lila sniffled, feeling very foolish for letting such sentimentality strike her right before she must face her mother. A mother who would be looking for weakness before the ball.
Lila stood up straighter, determined not to fall apart again. She’d done enough crying.
But when she caught her face in the bedroom mirror, she didn’t see a face full of resolve. She saw a face full of misery, eyes half-laden with tears.
Instead of triggering more waterworks, it pissed her off.
Screw her mother. She wasn’t prime yet.
She’d have her one last goodbye, no matter what.
She’d earned it.
Putting on one of her formal militia uniforms, she dressed in her blackcoat for the last time, adding her Colt and officer’s short sword to her holster. Then she brushed her hair and marched downstairs, head held high.
Chapter 14
Chairwoman Randolph raised her wine glass as Lila entered the parlor, silver fabric fluttering around her thin form. Her eyes paused on her daughter’s blackcoat but did not linger. “We awaited our prime before entering the dining room, as is custom. It would help for you remember that from now on. Otherwise, we might all die of hunger.”
“I’m not prime yet,” mumbled Lila, nodding toward Jewel’s whitecoat. It wrapped around her figure like a pool of velvet, all aflutter, gauze thin on the air. Senator Dubois held his lover’s hand on the couch, his elegant burgundy jacket settled around him. They’d been talking of the wedding, no doubt, for Pax sat forward in a chair beside his mother, listening with a large smile. He’d worn a wrinkled crimson jacket, one cuff smudged with ink.
Her mother shifted the folds of her silver coat and stood. “Details, Lila.” She led the little group into the dining room with Jewel following immediately after, Senator Dubois at the former prime’s side.
Pax lingered in the parlor, offering his elder sister a bow. A mischievous glint lurked in his eyes. “Jewel will have to get used following behind you soon. As well as the new seating arrangement.”
“I couldn’t care less.”
“You don’t care, but Jewel does.” He winked before bounding away, keen not to miss any wedding plans.
Lila followed them all, taking a place next to Pax and across from Senator Dubois, in the table’s lowest position. She’d never considered it low, though. Since it was far away from her matron, she’d always considered it a perk.
Alex gave her a little wink as she circled the table, settling the first course of the evening in front of them, bowls of creamy asparagus soup that turned the air salty.
“Did you really have to wear that ugly thing tonight?” Jewel asked, crinkling her nose at Lila’s blackcoat.
Lila unfolded her napkin and set it in her lap. “As I’ve said many times before, regulations state that when in the presence of the chairwoman and her family, the chief of security should—”
“We know, but that hardly matters now.”
“Regulations always matter to the chief of security.”
“You aren’t—”
The chairwoman put her wine down on the table, clinking it against the side of her plate with purposeful clumsiness. Jewel closed her mouth immediately.
“Will you excuse us, Ms. Wilson?” Chairwoman Randolph said, raising her voice.
Alex bowed, abandoning the soup cart and filing out of the room.
As Lila had not yet received her wine, she stood up and poured a glass of Gregorie herself. Manners be damned.
It was going to be a long night.
Chairwoman Randolph leaned over the table, her eyes burning into Jewel’s. “Child, you will act as a prime should until Lila’s place is official. If you cannot discharge this last breath of your duties, then I will be forced to reconsider your chosen employment afterwards. The art gallery isn’t yours yet.”