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would.
“Yes, Marie,” her father said, patting her hand. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
Ms. Masson smiled and gave Lila and her father one last hug before trotting down the hall toward the stairs.
“Making the rounds, I see,” Lila said as she followed her father into his apartment.
“I have to catch up with my family, my lovers, and my children when I can. I suppose it’ll be easier when I retire. I can bounce back and forth between Unity and New Bristol and give everyone equal time.” He closed the door and escorted her into the dining room while a servant finished setting the table.
“Is that what we’re doing?” Lila asked when the servant bowed his way from the apartment. “Catching up?”
“As far as everyone knows. Everyone thinks that you’re my favorite child, and I do nothing to dissuade them from that theory.”
It wasn’t until that moment that Lila realized her father hadn’t asked a single personal question since he’d been in town. He’d nosed into who she was sleeping with, likely at her mother’s urging, but that had been another bit of highborn business. It had been a very long time since he’d merely sat with her, as Tristan’s father had tried to do, and spoken about her day.
They hadn’t caught up in ages.
They’d had briefings.
When had it all changed?
Lila sat down at the table, pushing aside the question. She could worry about it next time he came into town. She had far more urgent problems.
“I ordered waffles,” he said, pulling off the tops of the silver trays. “You can’t eat pancakes every day. You’re not five anymore.”
He winked as he sat across from her.
Lila poured maple syrup over her breakfast and updated him on her progress with the oracles, eyeing his plate to ensure he hadn’t added any sausage or bacon. She didn’t mention that she’d met the oracle twice in as many days. Instead, she kept her information light and sparse, saying only that she’d looked into records of the kidnapped and murdered girls but hadn’t drawn any conclusions yet. She’d only compiled lists and biographical data.
Lila sipped at her Sangre. “I disagree with your actions toward Rebecca. The oracles have had enough tragedy without you adding to it.”
“I’m not convinced that the parents weren’t involved,” he retorted, and bit into his waffle. “I’ll not give her back just to let it happen again. These girls need to be protected.”
“By strangers?”
“My gut says I shouldn’t give her back.”
“Is your gut prepared for the shitstorm that will erupt if you don’t? The oracles will not suffer the government stealing one of their own.”
“Are the oracles threatening to act?”
“Not that I’ve heard, but they’ve lost enough daughters without having a target. You’re giving them a big one. What do you think they’ll do once word leaks to the press, assuming they don’t leak it themselves? Do you honestly think they won’t use it to their advantage? Do you want to give your rivals the ammunition?”
“I won reelection with three-quarters of the vote last season. I’ve never backed off from anything because of an election.”
“Yes, that’s one thing the senate and the matrons respect about you, but the matrons will withdraw their support the moment your decisions impact their bottom line. Pissing off the faithful so that they demonstrate rather than shop will certainly do that.”
“I don’t care about the matrons’ attention on this one. My gut—”
“You can’t arbitrarily take a child from her parents based on your gut,” she snapped. “Your gut is not proof. Your gut isn’t infallible.”
“If something happens to that child—”
“Then it will be her parents’ fault. My gut is telling me that you’re wrong about this. My gut says that you’re slipping away from the confines of your position.”
He leaned back in his chair and snatched his wine, frowning. “You’re probably the only person in the entire country who will tell me I’m being an idiot to my face without having some agenda lurking in the background. I value your opinion. Always have, from the day you earned the rank of captain. Perhaps even before that.”
“But?”
