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22
“This is a nonsense. It makes a mockery of my family.”
“It’s shite.” Finlay kicks his feet up onto the table, the broad spread ofThe Timessprawled across his lap. “But we’re in the Wild West noo. This is power vacuum crap. Grand overtures fae dafties in power. No one willactuallybelieve he’s king.”
As Finlay speaks, gremlins pass us with tiny, shiny new crown badges adorning their blazers. Luke follows my gaze and mutters, “I’m not so sure. We’re fighting fire with…badges. How can fashion start a revolution?”
Finlay gives him an ironic look and, in his plummiest voice, demurs, “Darling,allrevolution is fashion.” He licks his finger and turns a page. “And all fashion is revolution. Otherwise why d’ye think people care about history? Fashion’s a’ about the history o’ the time, the stories embedded within social fads.” He gives a pointed nod at one of the bright gold pins on the gremlin’s chest. “See them? Worth millions.”
I raise an eyebrow. Danny blinks at him. “Well, if I’d known I’d be participating in some kind of money-laundering scheme, I’d have asked for a bigger cut.”
“Have ye no’ heard o’ this? It’s well-kent in socio-political discourse. When hemlines lower, bad times are ahead.”
“I dunno,” I drawl, “it’s usually a sign the party’s getting started.”
Finlay smirks at me. “I saidhemlines, sassenach, I’m no’ talkin’ about when waistlines drap tae the floor. Another one’s traditional dress — mair Scots are wearin’ kilts.” He gestures proudly to his own. “Means yer a sexy bastard.”
“It’s about tradition,” Luke adds in a meditative voice. “When people seek tradition, they’re after safety.”
Finlay stares at Luke, looking thrown. “Aye,” he says softly, ruminating. “Maybe that’s a part o’ it an’ aw. But can ye blame us?” He clears his throat and nods across to Danny. “Danny, ye’ve got yer own wee badge right there. An investment piece. So you too will become a millionaire at some unspecified point in time — no’ that it means much wi’ the way inflation’s goin’.”
“Millions?” My tone is skeptical. “It’s made out of clay.”
Finlay shrugs. “So’s the Rosetta Stone. Doesnae stop it havin’ round-the-clock security. Imagine the insurance premium on that bastard, then triple it ‘cause Luke’s a star.”
“I think you’ll find,” a dry voice interjects, “that the Rosetta Stone… is made out of stone.” Rory plonks himself down, swinging his legs onto the bench. Our gazes lock opposite the table, and although Rory looks tired, he manages to muster a smile in my direction. “Everything good?”
I shrug. “They seem to like the badges. I don’t think anyone’s noticed it’s me who made them and not Danny.”
“I meant about you. Not badges or politics.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flare with heat, and I glance down at the couscous I’d been picking at. “Yeah, I guess. I have my career meeting after politics.”
“I’m just back from mine,” Rory announces smugly. “A breeze.”
“Oh, aye?” Finlay turns another page. “So whit’s yer destiny, m’lord? Master o’ the world?” He starts to hum a jaunty tune that I only realize much later is “Master of the House” fromLes Miserables.
“I don’t know, but I got a right telling off for the number of detentions I’ve had so far.”
“Nae wonder. Ye’re rivalin’ Jessa at this point.”
I shoot Finlay a dark scowl.
“We discussed a few things. I said I’d apply for St. Camford, because it’s what everyone expects of me, but…” Rory stalls, his expression turning cagey. “The way things are going…” He shakes his head, glancing over at Luke. “Let’s just say I don’t foresee this ending before Christmas. So I think I’ll take a gap year. There’s too much at stake.”
“I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me,” Luke murmurs, his brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want that from anyone.”
“Tough.” Rory smiles widely. “Besides, it’ll piss my father off even more than my detentions. So really, old friend, my decision to defer university is an entirely selfish endeavor.”
Finlay tosses his copy ofThe Timesto the side. “So whit are ye sayin’? Does this mean we a’ defer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Defer how? Go where, dae whit? It’s hardly agap yahif we’re no’ gonnae get pissed and fuck aff tae Thailand tae find oorselves.”
“Look,” Rory sighs. “This is unprecedented. Every day there seems to be some batshit news story about Antiro. And I know for a fact that, although I am fucking spectacular and can multi-task like a pro, I’d be unable to devote any time at all to my studies. This year alone’s been bad enough and it’s barely started. I want toenjoyuni. I don’t want them taking that away from me, too.”
“I’m in no rush to go to uni,” Danny admits quietly. “And besides — all for one, one for all, right? Chiefs stick together.”
