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“What are you doing here?” I sniffed, refusing to admit I’d been crying.
“I came to see why you threw a tantrum… Iris sent word,” she said lounging in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. I huffed, not believing a note from Iris could have reached her so quickly. There lay the great mystery. Hippolyta always knew what was going on. Her preternatural insight was a fact of our lives we never questioned, so I supposed I should just accept her explanation even if I didn’t believe it.
“Lay low, Vi,” she frowned when I didn’t reply. “Iris is off to university. Beatrice is in Paris with our Mama. Though I hope they come home soon given the political situation. The Reign of Terror might return at any moment. Attend me closely Vi, with no alphas, you lack protection. Our aunt and uncle don’t know your wild ways.”
“You’ll be here.” I knew she spent her time in London… But she wasn’t an alpha.
“I’ve responsibilities that mean I won’t be able to look out for you as closely as I would like.”
“Being a modern day Robin Hood isn’t a responsibility,” I pointed out. “Wealthy alphas will always hold the power no matter how many times you steal from them.”
“I’m not talking about that,” she said, her tone sharp which told me she’d reveal no more.
“I’m not a child,” I growled, hating that none of them trusted me. I was twenty. Accomplished. Skilled. Capable. Yet was shoo’d away and forced to sit pretty in a house that lackedlife.
“Of course you aren’t! If you were, you’d be in Paris,” Polly frowned. “Vi, we just… You are our only chance at a scandal-free alliance for our family with the world. We need you. We, all omegas, we need your brain to win our fights in the light while the rest of us work in the shadows.”
“You and Beatrice are older… And she has made her curtsy!” Though we both knew that meant nothing. She’d rejected several excellent proposals before devoting herself to her art. “Why isn’t she the one marrying and mating some influential alpha?”
“We gave up our influence when we followed our passions. You are… You are far cleverer, far more capable of changing minds…”
“If I am…” I bit my lip, the papers on my desk caught my eye. “You know they’ll keep me prisoner here. Nothing but an omega to marry off as suits them.”
“You’ll marry and mate who you wish. Don’t worry about that, Mama will ensure that… She promised Bea. You could publish your writing,” she pointed out. “I have the contacts.”
“And who’d read it? Anonymised? With an alpha’s name? No. I won’t let one of them—even if it is my pen name—take credit.”
My sister shrugged. “You’ve always been good at coming up with a clever excuse not to do something.”
“Polly, you are the worst,” I laughed ruefully.
“Come here,” she opened her arms. Of all our family, she was the least affectionate, turning her embraces into gold dust. I went willingly, wrapping my arms around her smaller frame. “You are a silly wench. Stay the course, bring them down… Marry, mate, be happy… For our peace of mind and because Bea and I won’t be able to do so.”
“You’ll find love and a mate,” I mumbled into her hair. “Just perhaps not in a conventional manner.”
“No Hartwell omega is conventional,” she chuckled. “Even our aunt may surprise us. Be patient with her. I’ve been watching for a while and things are never what they seem.”
“Sisterly advice?”
“Sisterly advice. Now, go and make your peace with Iris. She feels miserable for barking at you like that.”
Polly kissed my cheek and left me pondering our conversation, but Iris could not be put off. I went to find her in the drawing room. Luckily, she was alone, at her feet the remains of an ugly porcelain shepherdess.
“Vi…”
“Iris… That really was an ugly figurine. But I doubt aunt Maria will be pleased it is broken.”
