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“You’ve told me the story, madam.” Lila scrambled to change the flow of the dinner conversation. “I’m extremely curious to see what colors Ms. Park will propose for her family. Her coat of arms, too. What do think, Pax?”
“A lime dragon? Perhaps a tigress atop a field of calming blue?”
“I think either choice would serve her family well,” Senator Dubois replied.
Pax beamed and took a large spoonful of soup. Dubois had the same effect on the boy as her father, encouraging him to eat and smile when he otherwise wouldn’t.
“How’s Father’s Week?” Lila asked the senator, forging ahead. “You spent some time with your cousin’s children the other day. Was it nice having a practice run for the real thing?”
Dubois laughed and squeezed Jewel’s hand. Her sister paled and sipped her soup, not saying a word in answer. Perhaps it was guilt. Perhaps her sister had begun wondering if she was the reason the pair couldn’t conceive.
“It was very nice. We had a great deal of fun at the park. You should have come too, Pax. Your father misses you. Perhaps tomorrow?”
“Perhaps. I have a lot of studying to do.”
“The boy is always studying,” Chairwoman Randolph said offhandedly. She looked over her spoon to her eldest daughter. “Lila, don’t do anything that slights Ms. Park tonight. The last thing we need is another—”
“You mean I shouldn’t advise Ms. Park to select a mole for her family’s coat of arms? Or a squirrel?”
“A sheep?” added Pax with a soft chuckle.
Lila poked her little brother in the belly. Her giggle was somewhat stunted when she realized how flat his stomach had gotten. Perhaps she’d buy some chocolate from Violet’s to tempt him. The boy always had a sweet tooth. “A vulture?”
“A minnow?” Shiloh offered, not wanting to be left out but fighting all the decorum he’d learned at Bullstow.
“A tapeworm!”
“A flea!”
“A roach!”
“A stinkbug!” Lila said, raising her arms as though she’d won a race.
Her father pursed his lips, trying very hard not chuckle and encourage their impropriety.
Even Alex’s face lit up with a fraction of a smirk.
Jewel frowned. “Why not a beautiful like a peacock or a—”
“Children.” The chairwoman clapped for silence. “Ms. Park doesn’t need your suggestions. She’s likely had her coat of arms designed for years. Everyone has known the Wilsons would fall eventually. It has only happened sooner than expected, what with the executions looming.”
“Madam,” Lila said, a tone of warning entering her voice.
“What, Lila? We all knew they’d fall, given the family’s poor breeding and poor business sense. They’ve never been anything but workborns and criminals putting on airs. Now they are back where they belong.”
“Madam.”
“Everyone’s said it for years. Barely educated, barely refined, completely inelegant. You should have heard the stories about Celeste when I attended Bokington.”
Lila put down her spoon, her gaze flashing quickly to Alex. Her old friend stared at the wall, her jaw tight. They’d heard plenty of stories when they attended the highborn university. None of them had been pleasant and most of them had been made up. Lila seriously doubted that Alex’s mother had ever mixed her drinks with chicken blood or participated in orgies with workborn, much less film them.
Her mother noticed the rage in Alex’s eyes, and grinned victoriously. “You know, I heard about this one time when Celeste—”
“Mother, you’re being needlessly cruel.”
“I’m just making conversation. Tell me, has Bullstow set a date for her and her son’s execution? I think I should like to attend. Chairwoman Holguín might even tempt me into drinking a glass of Sangre. It’s been two decades since I’ve—”
“Mother.”
