Page 77 of Velveteen vs. The Consequences of Her Actions

“I think I’m mostly on the side of whatever doesn’t end with you getting stabbed and bleeding to death in an alley,” said Jack. “I thought you liked not having to go out and fight for truth and justice just to keep the lights on. Lena and Torrey are paying all the bills, and Governor Morgan is still maintaining your position as official state superhero. You can rest. You can get better.”

“I can go out of my mind from boredom,” said Velveteen, folding her arms and looking away.

Jack frowned. “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us.”

“Ask Aurora,” suggested Velveteen, in a dull voice.

Jack recoiled from the other woman like she had suddenly transformed into a raging fire. Hurt and shame filled her eyes as she clapped her hand over her mouth. Then she turned on her heel, sending her skirts kicking out around her in a froth of velvet and unnecessary lace, and ran out of the room.

“Vel.” The Princess shook her head. “That wasn’t very kind of you. She saved your life, remember?”

“My life wouldn’t have needed saving if she hadn’t lied to me about what was going to happen when I went to Winter,” snapped Velveteen. She stopped before she could say anything else, running her hands through her hair and taking a deep breath. Once she was sure she wasn’t going to yell, she continued carefully, “I love Jack, I do. She’s one of my best friends, and I know how much I owe her for saving me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be angry with her at the same time, for putting me in that position.”

“And Jory? You going to be mad at her too?”

Velveteen was silent.

Jennifer Morgan—Jory—was a superheroine, an elementalist whose power focused on the manipulation of earth and base minerals. She was reasonably powerful, extremely well-trained, and up until Velveteen decided to get involved, she’d been dead in this reality, the victim of a supervillain who should never have gotten close enough to kill her. Her sister, Celia Morgan, was the current governor of Oregon. Celia had grown up bitter over the death of her sister, and determined to get her revenge on The Super Patriots, Inc., who should have been able to keep Jory safe.

Death became something of a revolving door once powers beyond the mortal ken got involved, and Velveteen had ransomed another version of Jory from the universe via the North Pole’s Hall of Mirrors which connected every known reality, in exchange for promising to do her service to the Seasons. Now that service was done, and Jory was free to spend the rest of her natural lifetime with the little sister who, in her original reality, had been the one to die.

Getting Jory and Celia another chance to be together had been a truly selfless thing, and it really wasn’t fair that the universe was punishing Velveteen for it. But then, when had the universe ever been fair?

Velveteen looked so genuinely despondent that the Princess sighed. “Do you honestly feel like you’re ready to get back out there? You only get one chance at a long convalescence. As soon as you’re sighted in the real world, where my lawyers can’t protect you, the press is going to come looking for blood. What you did…”

“What I did should have been done a long damn time before I came along.” There was no room for argument in Velveteen’s voice.

Not for the first time, the Princess silently cursed whoever had decided that Jack couldn’t talk about what had happened to Vel while she was traveling in the Seasonal Lands. She had left them sad and bruised and needing time to heal. She had come back so close to broken as made no difference. The slightest strike from the wrong angle, and she was going to shatter.

That didn’t mean they could coddle her forever. It was clear that Velveteen’s patience was drawing to a close, and if the Princess didn’t want to wake one morning and find her gone, some compromises needed to be made. “If,” she began, holding up a finger for emphasis, “I let you go out on patrol, you’re going to have to make me a few promises.”

Velveteen’s eyes lit up. “Anything.”

“You may regret that in a moment. First, you’re not going solo. I will call a bruiser to go out with you.”

“You could go with me.”

“No, I couldn’t. Until you’re done hidin’ from the press, I can’t be seen with you in public, and you know it. I love you like my own sister, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to piss off my corporate overlords. Especially not now.” There were rumbles of legislation on the horizon, of politicians who wanted to make absolutely sure there could never be a repeat of the Supermodel incident. It was all greedy bastards looking to control the one thing they’d never been able to get a grip on before, but they had money and they had fear, and those two things sometimes went together distressingly well.

“All right,” said Velveteen. “You pick the team-up. What else?”

“You agree to have a sit-down with a public relations expert, again of my choosing, to start figuring out how you’re going to explain your absence, and how you’re going to navigate what’s ahead of you.” The Princess shook her head, expression grim. “I am not going to rush your recovery, but as soon as you’re well enough to face the press, you’re going to have to. It’s not optional anymore.”

“Deal.”

“I’d try to get you to agree to an image consultation too—that headband of yours is so last decade—but I don’t want to push my luck.” The Princess unfolded her arms. “When did you want to go out?”

“Tonight?” Velveteen put on her best hopeful expression. It twinkled. The effect was unnerving. “I’m sure there’s evil somewhere that needs to be defeated. Small evil. Misdemeanors and muggers, not like, world-shattering supervillainy.”

The Princess sighed. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“I don’t know, but aren’t you glad you did?”

“I am, honey.” The Princess smiled. “You know I am. Now go tell the rabbits that you’re going to need a costume for tonight.”

“Thank you, Cara, I won’t forget this,” burbled Velveteen. She dove in, hugged the other woman, and then darted off to find a rabbit, leaving the Princess sighing and alone.

“You ain’t going to like it much, either,” she said, and turned. She needed to make a couple of mirror calls.