Darius grinned. “I don’t want to do it again, though. I’ll leave the heroics to Rufus and your praetorians.”
Daphne almost had Cynthia on the verge of signing the permission document when Justin came home with Mae. He raised an eyebrow at Darius and came to a complete standstill over Daphne. She leapt to her high heeled feet and glided over to him, extending a hand.
“You must be Dr. March. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she oozed. Justin gave her a quick head-to-toe assessment that lingered on her
short skirt and then put on the smile he usually reserved for pretty women. “Likewise, Miss . . . ?”
“Lang. Daphne Lang.”
Again, Tessa heard that expectant tone in her voice, like she was hoping to be recognized. Cynthia saved him the trouble of further fact finding.
“She’s a North Prime reporter who wants to adopt Tessa,” said Cynthia. In her periphery, Tessa saw Rufus sidle up to Mae and whisper in her ear.
Justin’s hand dropped, as did his smile. “No. Tessa is not going to be the subject of some poor-provincial-girl-in-the-big-city piece for that crap news channel.”
A slight pursing of the lips was Daphne’s only sign of irritation at all about her employer being called a “crap news channel.”
”That’s not why I’m here at all. She sought me out, through her school’s internship program.”
Justin shot Tessa a surprised look. “You applied for an internship?
You . . . want to be a reporter?”
“Not exactly,” she said. “I mean, I don’t know. It just kind of happened.”
The story tumbled out in bits and pieces, put together by both Daphne and Tessa. Justin shook his head in exasperation when they finished. “Maybe you should see if another news channel bites,” he said.
“North Prime puts out some very excellent pieces,” Daphne said stiffly. “This is a big opportunity for her.”
“I’d rather she just sat at a desk for a whole class period and actually listened to a lecture or something,” said Justin. “I don’t like all this experiential stuff.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” said Cynthia. “The internship, I mean. I’ve always thought real world experience can carry more weight than classroom learning.”
“That’s because you—” Justin wisely bit off his words and turned back to Daphne. “Look, if you want Tessa to be your errand girl, I want a different document that you’ll sign saying you won’t turn her story into trashy entertainment.”
Daphne pouted, but Tessa could tell she wasn’t truly offended. “You really think that’s why I’m here? Fine, I’ll sign whatever you like.”
Mae strode forward and stood at his side, fixing Daphne with a stare that chilled the room. “I’m sure it’ll take time for their lawyer to draw that up. The family will be in touch when everything’s ready for signing, so that should wrap things up for now.” There was no need to voice the unspoken Now get out at the end of her words.
The come-hither look Daphne had used on Justin turned into something much harder as she sized up Mae. “I don’t believe we’ve met. You are . . . ?”
“Praetorian Mae Koskinen. Dr. March’s bodyguard.”
Daphne arched an eyebrow and then glanced at Justin. “Everyone’s got a bodyguard around here. And you have a formidable one . . . for a boring government job.”
Justin looked a little surprised to hear her using Cynthia’s earlier wording but didn’t comment on it. “Just precautionary diligence on the government’s part.”
Quentin’s voice suddenly piped up from the living room. “Uncle Justin? You’re on the news!”
Everyone’s heads swiveled toward the screen. There, one of the RUNA’s most famous journalists—who worked for a far more prestigious network than North Prime—was reporting on Senator Lucian Darling’s just-announced trip to Arcadia.
“The senator, as part of a gesture of good will and desire to exchange ideas with the Arcadians, will be accompanied by a number of cultural experts,” the reporter was saying as several headshots— including Justin’s—were displayed on the screen. “Atticus Marley, special diplomatic envoy to Arcadia. Professor George Yi, of the comparative culture department at Vancouver University. Dr. Justin March, IS servitor and former instructor of religious studies. Phil Ramirez, international trade expert and analyst.”
The scene cut to live footage of Lucian Darling standing gallantly on the senate steps, holding a press conference. “It is our hope,” he was saying, “that by showing our willingness to learn about their culture, the Arcadians will in turn be more open-minded to learning about ours, thus helping forge new connections and ease hostilities between our nations.” When one of the attending journalists asked about the danger the trip involved for him, especially during election season, Lucian simply smiled and shook his head. He launched into what Tessa could tell was a well-prepared statement on how it was more important to take a risk for his country’s well-being than stay safe on the campaign trail.
“He’s so, so good,” murmured Daphne.
The reporters at the senate erupted in questions. Back in the March house, Justin muttered something uncomplimentary, and Cynthia shot him an outraged look. “When the hell were you going to tell me?”
He sighed. “In a quiet moment, without reporters. Anywhere.” Cynthia, eyes wide, turned back to the screen as Lucian fielded
another question about the risks of traveling into Arcadia. “It’s crazy! It doesn’t matter what nonsense he’s touting about bravery to the country!”
“It’s a very public expedition,” said Justin calmly. “It wouldn’t be worth the fallout for them or us to screw it up. Besides, with Lucian around, I’ll even have more protection than I do on my regular trips. Nothing can happen.”
“You don’t go to places as bad as Arcadia on your regular trips!”
Cynthia exclaimed. When Justin didn’t respond, she turned even more incredulous. “Do you? Where the hell do you go?”
“Where do you think I go when I say I’m leaving the country?”
“I don’t know!” She threw up her hands. “The EA. Panama. It’s state business. I didn’t think I should ask too many questions. Maybe I should have.”
“When are you—and Lucian—coming back?” asked Daphne.
Mae, clearly not liking what she saw as an outsider to family business, swiftly moved to the reporter’s side. “Miss Lang, I think it’s time you go. As I said, someone will be in touch with you about the paperwork. I’ll walk you to the door now.” Mae’s voice was perfectly polite, but Tessa could sense the praetorian steel within. Daphne apparently could as well.
“I’ll find my own way out,” said Daphne stiffly. “But thank you, praetorian.”
“I insist,” said Mae.
She and Daphne locked eyes, igniting a battle of wills that left everyone uneasy. Tessa admired that Daphne even managed a fighting chance, but ultimately, it seemed Mae would win since she could literally throw the other woman out of the house. Tessa took a tentative step forward.
“I’ll walk Daphne out. I brought her here. It’s only polite.”
Mae’s sharp gaze turned on Tessa, apparently to ponder whether or not Tessa could be trusted to make sure Daphne actually left. After several long moments, Mae gave a nod. Daphne made simpering farewells to Justin and Cynthia—though both were too preoccupied to really hear them—and then let Tessa lead her to the door.
“Well,” she told Tessa when they were alone. “I guess that answers my question about Dr. March having ‘powerful friends.’” She paused eloquently. “And just between you and me, I think there’s some serious family dysfunction going on around here.”
“That’s an understatement,” said Tessa wearily, opening the door. “But thank you for your time.”