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“Lila,” her mother said gently. For the first time in her life, Lila saw a hint of desperation in the chairwoman’s eyes. “Wear the whitecoat and commit to a child. It has always been your duty, just as it was Shiloh’s duty to go to Bullstow. You’ve had your fun, and perhaps it’s my fault for indulging you, but it is time to grow up. You must do this for the sake of the family and your own future, and you know it.”
She had seen her mother’s face as she gambled on a deal.
This wasn’t it.
Lila stayed silent, hating her mother for her ultimatum, hating that she must choose between joining the family as prime or being an exile among the poorer classes, powerless to wield any influence to help the family at all.
When she finally spoke, her words came out thin and weak. “Not prime, Mother, not until I’ve chosen a senator for the season. I don’t want the fuss at the Closing Ball. Besides, I still need to clean up my mess.”
“I understand.”
“Reschedule the appointment, too. I have a prior commitment.”
“Fine, I’ll change your appointment to five o’clock this evening. A car will pick you up in front of the house. For what it is worth, I am sorry. This is what happens when you are born with responsibility and duty and talent.”
The chairwoman tinged the last few words with a sad half-smile.
Lila could not help but think that part of her mother in that moment was fourteen years old again, still at breakfast, told that she would begin running an empire as soon as she finished her meal.
