Page 8 of Taking Jenny
Justice raised a hand. “Bring the first of the docket.”
Cue the boredom.
Insipid courtiers and classed folk came to supplicate themselves before Justice and the court, asking for Justice’s approval or help with minor tasks. Since the war had ended so long ago, nothing challenged Justice anymore and his ennui permeated the court. Even at the council meetings, he was like a child picking the tail off a cina out of the craving for novelty.
The only thing I had seen anyone excited about in months was Illiapol. Every classed family’s second favorite holiday, second only to Rysenpol, Illiapol got the public’s blood up. There was to be a ball the night before, and a feast the day after. The palace bakeries would start their work soon, preparing Illiamor cakes to give out to the unclassed. A delicious reminder of their dedication to the classed. Or at least, I was told they were delicious.
It seemed in poor taste to me to give out cakes shaped like a woman’s body that were filled with red sweet cream that looked like blood when you cut them open. The cakes were delivered to the homes of the unclassed—they weren’t permitted to refusethem. In defiance of the custom, some brave unclassed left the cake at their doorstep to rot, stepping over them every time they left their home. It was a strong statement, until a week later, when their homes became overrun with cinas who had eaten the cake and thought there might be more food inside the house. Then the unclassed had rodent problems, feeding into the classed’s notion that the unclassed were filthy wretches.
What I wouldn’t give for those filthy wretches to break here and overturn the court’s rules of decorum.
The thought left me with a smirk on my lips. It did not go unnoticed by the nearest courtiers. Lady Winderbell, especially.
The eldest daughter of the Winderbells was a beauty to be sure, but haughty in a way I did not like. Her upturned nose and confident chin only served to annoy me. An ego that rivaled my own would have been fine, had she the ability to back it up. It wasn’t her black hair or her full lips or her perfect figure that should have diminished her ego, but her mind which was at fault. She was too ignorant to grasp that she was, in fact, ignorant. She harbored a confused crush on me. She could never admit her affections—Iwastailless, after all—but it did not stop her from keeping an eye on me during court.
When her smile met my smirk, I loudly sighed my disdain and looked away.
Which, apparently, she took for encouragement.
Lady Winderbell gracefully sidled up to me. She whispered, as it was rude to speak normally when Justice was holding court. “You’re looking well, Malice.”
“As are you, Lady Winderbell,” I replied, as was expected.
“How many times do I need to remind you to call me Blossom?”
“One more, it would seem,” I drawled.
She quietly giggled. “You are attending the Illiapol ball, are you not?”
“If I did not, Justice would be disappointed in me.”
“And are you…going with anyone?”
Fuck. “I have no intent to go with anyone.”
Her lips crinkled in distress, and undeniable pity coated her voice. “I can’t imagine a lonely bachelor such as yourself would be content to be alone on such an important evening.”
A lonely bachelor? Is that what they’re saying about me now?I smiled, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I prefer the company of those who can hold up their end of the conversation, and as such, will be attending by myself.”
Her distress boiled into a full frown. “I don’t understand.”
“Precisely. Excuse me.”
I escaped her presence by sliding myself to the other half of the court. Those who were nearby parted to avoid me, and I was once again alone. The way I liked it.A lonely bachelor, indeed. I shook my head at the thought. There was nothing wrong with being a bachelor at twenty-eight.
Still, Lady Winderbell’s pity roiled in my gut. To be pitied by such a loathsome woman was enough to make me leave court for the day. But if I were to simply walk out, I would never hear the end of it from Justice come the next council meeting, so I gritted my teeth and stayed.
CHAPTER 4
Jenny
“You got Jac’s money, oy?”
The alien woman leveled what looked like a gun at Tiger’s head. I froze. Even with a weapon pointed at him, Tiger still smiled—like it was just a regular Tuesday. What kind of life had he lived to make this feel normal?
“I thought he paid you already,” he said calmly.
She adjusted something on the weapon and it began to whirr with a high-pitched sound. If Tiger was nervous, he didn’t show it.
