Disreputable Allies (Fates of the Bound 1) - Page 12

“Plus you’re awake at an ungodly hour of the morning, at least for you—”

“I had insomnia.”

“And you just got out of the shower,” the slave finished, as though it were the end of some magic trifecta, condemning Lila to some post-coital state.

“I do bathe occasionally, Alex.”

“Yes, but all three of those things at once are not a coincidence. Who’s responsible for your rosy cheeks and lazy smile?”

“A warm shower will do that for you.”

“Oh really?”

Lila snatched up the missive on the silver tray.

“I suppose sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands. I’ll find those numbers for you this weekend.”

Lila crushed the letter in her fist. “Damn it, Alex, I don’t need—”

“Okay, I’ll make that tonight, Chief Fussy.”

“You’re impossible, Alex,” Lila said as she flopped on the couch.

Alex laughed and sat onto the cushion beside her. “Did the blast wake you?”

Lila tapped the envelope against her thigh. “Did anyone sleep through it?”

“Not likely. I bet half the city is awake.”

“It wasn’t a train this time,” Lila said, tearing the envelope open. “Just a gas explosion.”

Alex leaned back into the couch. “So what does the chairwoman want? Has she ordered you to run around the compound five times, shouting, ‘Glory to the Randolphs’?”

“It’s more likely a summons. And you should mind your tongue before someone overhears it waggling.” Lila dug into the envelope and read the request for an early breakfast in the morning room. The rest of her plans would have to wait. “Tell Chairwoman Randolph that I shall arrive with great anticipation in fifteen minutes.”

“Great anticipation?”

“Yeah, make it sound sincere if you can.”

The slave gathered up the tray once more and paused at the door. “What do you think she wants?”

“Security for the Wabash Fundraiser next week, I suppose.” Lila’s easy tone belied her anxious stomach. The summons so soon after the botched job worried her, especially if the chairwoman was awake at such an early hour. The Randolph family was not known to be early risers. The estate was only six or seven kilometers away from Bullstow, though. It was likely the blast, and nothing more, that had woken the chairwoman.

“Are you going?”

“I’ll send a security team for the chairwoman and another if Jewel plans to attend, but I’m staying here. That’s the nice part about being the boss. You can delegate unpleasant tasks.”

Alex fingered the tray. “Sometimes I hate you for that, you know. You’re a highborn. You could still be a part of it all if you wanted. The dances, the season, the balls.”

Lila joined her at the door. “You turned your back on it long before you ended up in this situation, Alex. Don’t make me a part of your disappointments and regrets. It’s not fair.”

“I don’t have regrets. Not really. What happened was my own fault. I never wanted to be an old woman, stuck at the end of my life, wondering ‘what if.’ That has to be worse than slavery, don’t you think?”

“You’ve done well for yourself here,” Lila said, squeezing her shoulder. “The chairwoman respects you well enough to keep you in the great house, and your new coat of arms is much better than the old.”

“The chairwoman only wants me close so that I can be watched.”

“Do you think it’s any different with me? You might be a fallen heir from another family, but you are a highborn nonetheless. You know our ways, and you can be trusted. I suspect you’ll keep moving up if you want such things.”

Tags: Wren Weston Fates of the Bound Crime
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