Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
I didn’t press her on it. We were all feeling it in one way or another, especially with the Masque fast approaching, when we’d all have to be on, no matter what was happening. But I also didn’t know her very well, so I didn’t know if I should.
Seemed to be the case all around with the Knightstar clan.
And the quickness of our lunch was due to Aleece’s distraction, because, no other way to put it, after she ate a few bites with disinterest, she barely looked at me while mumbling words of farewell and wandered out.
Commence an hour-long meeting with Nata to go over invitations and correspondence I’d received and our pitch to the MdV about me being chair of the fundraising ball committee.
At that time, I gave her a task so I could finalize the last item on my day’s agenda before we headed to the Catalogues. And now that item was up next.
I’d heard nothing all day from my mate, though I’d text commed him that morning to share I was starting my tour.
Aleksei did not reply.
I didn’t try again.
Space.
Now, one last thing to do, something I absolutely, one hundred percent didn’t want to do, but the idea came to me, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It might be a huge mistake, but I was doing it.
Because I also might get some answers.
And then, maybe I’d get drunk. I didn’t know, I hadn’t planned that far. But I suspected getting drunk was going to be etched onto my agenda after I got my next line item over and done with.
“We’ll release this on social tapes after the Masque,” Germaine decreed. “It’ll be the perfect follow-up. Everyone is always in thrall about what beings wear to the ball. We’ll give the Masque a couple of days to run its course, so this announcement doesn’t compete with it, and then we’ll release. I’ll let Nata know when it’s scheduled.”
“Add another day or two.”
“It really would work better on the heels of the Masque,” Germaine disagreed.
“And it would also seem like I don’t give a dang about the fact my bodyguard was streamed down in broad daylight, and I’m skipping joyfully onward in planning a ball just days after she died protecting me,” I retorted.
I noted immediately Germaine saw my point.
“You’re right. A week?” she asked.
I nodded, but said, “Let’s keep in touch, play it by feel.”
“You got it,” she replied.
At this point, Germaine began bossing the cam crew around, so I made my way to the lift, outside which Nata was dallying.
When she saw me, she ordered the door to open.
“Hey,” I greeted as I stepped past her into the lift.
“Hey. I was watching. You did well,” she said, joining me in it.
“Thanks,” I mumbled as the lift started to ascend. “Did you get the sequence?”
She nodded. “I sent it in a text comm.” She then regarded me closely before she asked hesitantly, “Are you sure about this?”
No.
“I’m sure,” I lied.
“It’s not my place…” She didn’t finish that.
But I knew what she thought wasn’t her place.
My heart pitched when I turned to her and stated words akin to ones someone wise said to me not too long ago.
“No offense, Nata, truly, please believe that before I say what I’m going to say next. But we’re not going to be friends. It’s not our job to be friends. The jobs we have are important, and we can’t let anything get in the way of them. Even so, we can be friendly, and we definitely need to be honest with each other.” The lift door opened, but neither of us stepped out. “But we’re in this together. So you need to feel like you can be forthright with me.”
“This isn’t about my job,” she replied. “This is personal.”
Oh yes.
I knew what that personal was.
“Okay, say it anyway,” I invited.
“I don’t know why you needed that sequence, but I’m afraid there’s no good reason for you to have it, and I’m worried that you asked for it.”
I couldn’t tell her why I needed it, so the only thing I could do was nod and say, “You’re heard.” Then I lowered my voice and added, “And thank you for caring. I’m sorry you’re worried, but I promise I’ll be okay.”
And I hoped I could keep that promise.
“All right,” she mumbled, realizing, accurately, that I was done talking about this.
Not done, exactly.
More like, if we kept talking about it, she might talk me out of it.
And as much as I didn’t want to do it, I couldn’t shake the sense I had to.
We walked out of the lift, out of the building, and we both got into the back seat of a covered hover-cart.
It was open on all sides. The nip in the air was now straight-up autumn chill, the skies were still gray, and it had rained or drizzled on and off all day (but it wasn’t now), and I wished I’d worn a coat, but too late.