Page 147 of Iris
Still, I offer to help, crouching down to gather them, aware of the circle forming about us.
The people gathering aren’t from the Lower Side. They’re from the middle of the city, tourists from small towns, and the Upper Side. There are cute stores and faux rough and tumble bars in this area, as well as an array of ethnic cuisine along this street and part of the river.
The guy shoves me, and because I don’t expect it, I almost fall, more from the shock of the shove than him moving me. But snatches the papers back, but not before I see the official Council seal and the name ‘Vanellen’ on them.
Where have I seen that name before?
Oh, yeah. He’s one of the candidates running to fill the empty Council spot.
We’re not near the Council buildings, but it’s not a question I can ask, even if I could talk. Besides, people live around here, the Upper Side is for the rich, not the middle class. There are enough nice apartments here to make the area safe, and to have it as a mixing pot.
I hold up my hands in surrender, and he rears back like I’m going to hit him. A murmur runs through the crowd.
Fuck that.
I get up and sign an apology to him, but by then someone else is there, a woman. Council, no doubt, and she helps him gather the papers.
I go to pick up the wrapped cigar box I dropped, and she tries to shove me away.
“Haven’t your kind done enough?”
The situation is odd, but I sign
“He’s slow,” the guy says to her, picking up the last piece of paper. “Ignore him.”
I type on my phone and press the little used text-to-voice button.
“Mute, that’s all. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you. I have a meeting I’m trying to get to.”
And with that, I turn and walk, heading to my car. As I drive, anger builds, slow and steady. It’s easy enough to keep under control, but the fact that it’s slipping through unnerves me.
That emotion’s something I’ve worked on, kept down. And this…just a bureaucrat being a bureaucrat.
Honestly, is it any wonder we want change?
But the altercation was nothing more than an accident. Neither of us was paying appropriate attention. The idiotseemed more upset because of the documents he had with him. Probably work he hadn’t finished.
Thinking about the Council naturally makes me glide into thoughts of Iris.
I don’t think it should be her helping us and the Nightshades get into the Council.
Sweet, fierce Iris. The girl with all the potential. But some of that potential comes with dire risks to her and her family.
Sophine only needs to say one thing and the Gardeners are on the out.
Shit.
The risks don’t end with a possible confrontation with Sophine.
There’s us claiming her.
That should be done and dusted but it isn’t.
The reality of that comes down to the Monarch. If we want the bond to be true, to be recognized as legitimate, it has to be approved by her.
Otherwise, we’ll have to reject the marks.
I put a hand to my scarred throat.
