Page 8 of Only Hard Problems

The Regals liked to control everything, even the weather, when possible, which was why certain sections of Promenade Park were subject to strict climate control. The constant temperatures and set amounts of water, nutrients, and sunlight helped to ensure that many of the park’s trees, bushes, and flowers bloomed all year round, instead of just in the spring.

“What does your new temperature-shielding technology do?” I asked in a polite voice, even as I inwardly groaned.

Jorge’s face lit up the same way my father’s face always did when he was talking about the latest gizmo he’d dreamed up. “Well, right now, the shielding is just a personal device. You strap it to your wrist, and it creates a bubble of air around your body that can be set to your preferred temperature no matter how hot or cold the ambient air is. It’s like wearing your own thermostat. The shielding technology can also do other things, like filter out unwanted odors and repel flies, mosquitos, and other annoying insects. Here. Let me show you the prototype.”

He slid his handkerchief back into his pocket, then pulled up his coat sleeve. A small device with a wide silver band, a small holoscreen, and glittering bits of lunarium and sapphsidian was wrapped around his left wrist like an old-fashioned watch. He tapped on the holoscreen, and the device started purring. A few seconds later, a gust of cool air wafted over me.

Jorge sighed with relief, and some of the redness faded from his cheeks. “As you can see, the device comes in quite handy on hot summer days. Even better, it uses a person’s own motion and kinetic energy to power itself, thus eliminating the need for a solar battery.”

He waved the watch in front of my face. “I’m planning to increase the size and range so that the devices can be wrapped around individual trees and bushes in Promenade Park. That way, we can heat or cool each individual plant, instead of an entire area, which would save the city an enormous amount of energy . . .”

Jorge kept spouting off all the potential uses for and advantages of his new temperature-shielding technology, along with the tweaks he wanted to make to the design, but I tuned out his enthusiastic words. I had never had any sort of mechanical or engineering aptitude, and the only thing I could figure out on a consistent basis was how to kill someone before they killed me. I was wholly unlike my father in that regard, and I supposed my sister too. Vesper probably would have been hanging on Jorge’s every word, idea, and statistic, just like my father was.

I grabbed a frosted glass off the tray of a passing servant and downed the contents. A tart lemonade with bright notes of blood orange exploded on my tongue, but the refreshing drink didn’t wash the bitterness out of my mouth.

“. . . but it’s just a prototype right now.” Jorge finished his loving description and pulled his coat sleeve down, hiding his wristwatch from sight. “I need to run some more tests and simulations before I scale up the prototype and present the device to the park’s board members.”

“Of course,” I murmured politely.

My father asked Jorge a technical question. The two of them started debating the merits of various shielding technologies currently on the market, and I was finally able to slip away from them. I deposited my empty glass on a servant’s tray, then ambled through the crowd, smiling and waving and eavesdropping on every single conversation I could.

The summer solstice might ostensibly be a time for the Regals to relax and celebrate the social season, but it was also a marvelous opportunity to pick up gossip, something my grandmother had trained me to do since birth, all in service to House Zimmer, of course.

“Lady Jane has danced with Lord Austen twice already . . .”

“I hear they’re having an affair . . .”

“Forget about them. I’m much more interested in who Vesper Quill’s father is . . .”

That snippet of conversation drifted over to my ears, making me stop cold. A few feet away, Lady Livia Invidus was holding court in the center of a gaggle of ladies. I sidled in their direction, pretending to have great difficulty deciding which scrumptious treats to snag from the towers of vanilla-glazed tea cakes, sugar-crusted berries, cucumber-dill sandwiches, spice-rubbed cheeses, and other delicacies lining the refreshment tables.

“It must be some servant or guard,” Lady Livia said, continuing her speculation. “Vesper Quill’s father couldn’t possibly be anyone important, anyone who trulymatters.”

The other ladies murmured their agreement.

House Invidus was among the least powerful Regal Houses, and it sold spy cameras and other tech similar to that produced by House Zimmer.Bloody copycats, Wendell had called the House Invidus engineers on more than one occasion, since their products were usually cheap knockoffs of his sturdier, more sophisticated designs. I was inclined to agree with my father, but even someone who spent most of their time copying you could still be a dangerous enemy.

“Why do you say that?” Beatrice asked.

My grandmother glided forward into the circle of women, and the other ladies scattered like mammoth butterflies blown away by a stiff summer breeze to make room for her.

Livia Invidus was in her eighties, just like my grandmother, with pale skin and a teased mane of hair that had been dyed the same garish pea green as her dress. She gave Beatrice an indulgent smile, as though she was talking to a small child who hadn’t yet fully grasped the nuances of Regal society.

“We all know what an ambitious climber Nerezza Blackwell is. Surely, if she’d had a child by a prominent Regal lord, she would have revealed the information years ago and used it to her advantage.”

“Mmm.” Beatrice made a noncommittal reply and fiddled with one of her rings.

Livia’s brown eyes narrowed at the telltale motion, and she studied Beatrice a little more closely. “Didn’t Wendell know Nerezza back when she first came to Corios? I seem to remember them dancing together at a ball a time or two.”

Her voice was mild, but her insinuation was sharper than the cake knives on the refreshment tables. A couple of the ladies sucked in startled gasps, and they all stared at Beatrice, looking for the smallest reaction, crack, and chink in her Regal armor.

My grandmother ignored them all, crooked a finger at a passing servant, and plucked a large glass of lemonade off his tray. To anyone else, she probably looked calm and confident, but her fingers clenched around the fluted stem, and her light blue nails dug into the delicate crystal like she was one more innuendo away from snapping it into pieces.

Beatrice took a slow, dainty sip of her lemonade, making everyone wait, then fixed a pleasant smile on her face and focused on Livia. “Wendell danced with many people when he was younger.” She paused and tapped a finger on her lips, as though deep in thought. “As did your son, Charles. Although, if I recall correctly, he was much fonder of your ladies-in-waiting than he ever was of Nerezza.”

More gasps rang out, and everyone swung around to stare at Livia, whose cheeks flamed as red as the glass of strawberry punch she was clutching. Her arm drew back ever so slightly, as though she wanted to chuck the glass at my grandmother’s head.

Beatrice stared right back at her, and after a few seconds, Livia slowly wilted under my grandmother’s cool, steady gaze. Fights between ladies, and lords too, weren’t uncommon at Regal events, but Beatrice was far too wealthy and powerful for anyone to take on in such a direct, uncouth manner as tossing punch in her face.

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