Remy
Iwas more nervous about dinner with the Senator than I’d ever been for a date. And I’d been on a lot of dates. Not that this was a date. It was decidedlynota date, not even close.
But it felt weirdly like a date.
I didn’t need Linette to tell me that Senator Navis was seeking my approval for his grand scheme of things. I knew he wanted to explain his master plan and win me over. He wanted me to be his human cheerleader as he tore our values and foundations out from under us. I knew I had to do my best to act as if his madman rantings were logical and appreciated. I had to. Being a Baelese sympathizer was the only thing that got me into Primo Town. There was no going back now.
My heart was in my throat when I concluded my lesson and was met by a guard at my desk.
“Follow me.”
I obeyed, slinging my teaching bag over my shoulder. He stopped at a restroom and pointed at the door.
“Wash up.”
“Yes, thank you.” I shook all over as I went in and did all my business, washing my hands and letting down my hair. I ran my fingers through the loose curls, which were longer than I’d ever let them grow before. Looking in the mirror was strange, and it made me realize I didn’t miss seeing my reflection. As I stood there, I wanted to examine every crevice of my face, and put some makeup on that bruise. Also, I looked freaking ridiculous in this dress. Like some Swiss Alps girl with huge boobs.
I sighed and exited the restroom, following the guard down a wing I hadn’t been in before. This hall felt stiffer and more secluded. I was led into a grand, plush library with an ornate table and chairs in the middle. They’d been set with fancy china and silverware. It made me miss my little black dress and heels from a former life.
The Senator stood when I entered. He was business casual, as usual. Slacks and shirt neatly pressed, but rolled to his elbows, tie loose, lock of hair across his brow. It was strange knowing that if I brushed that lock aside, it would stay there. So he’d chosen this easy, boyish look on purpose.
“You may leave us,” he told the guard.
“I will be outside of the doors if you need me, Bahntan.”
The Senator nodded. When the door clicked shut, a warm chill brushed over me, raising goose flesh. We were alone.
“Please,” he said, pulling out my chair. “Relax.”
I sat, pretending to admire the shelves of books, but really taking stealthy glances in all the corners for cameras, seeing none. Was it possible that we were truly alone and not being watched? The thought was thrilling, yet terrifying.
“This is an honor, sir. Thank you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he said. “Let me serve you.”
I felt flushed as he walked over to a cart and pushed it over. He raised the lids off steaming plates of food, making my mouth water, and he poured wine. I really did not need to drink that. Alcohol plus Remy equaled danger.
As he sat and we both placed napkins on our laps, I had an emotional flashback to Sunday dinners with my parents. The old habit rose up and I bowed my head to pray, closing my eyes. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I yanked my head up to find him watching. I nervously pushed curls behind my ears.
“Your father was a pastor, correct?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat and reached for the ice water. “Habit.”
“You still pray?” he asked.
I did, but I wasn’t sure if I should admit that. Still, as I sipped my water I found myself shrugging, then nodding.
“Religion is a fascinating concept,” he said. “How people’s passionate beliefs, often about similar things, just with different names, can drive such a fervent wedge between cultures.”
True. Sadly.
I followed his lead as he picked up his fork and knife and began to cut into the most perfectly cooked filet of beef I’d ever seen.
Eat slow. Small bites.
We dined. And for approximately ten minutes I felt quasi normal. Maybe even a little pretty.
“Senator, are the meals like this on Bael?”
