Laurelei Aurelia Galebringer, watch your language, young lady.
Nikhail could hear his mother’s chiding tone as if she were standing next to him, and he didn’t fight the smile that spread across his lips. Gods, he was overdue for a visit home.
Making a mental note to ask for time off to go visit his mother, he returned his attention to the conversation at hand.
Laurie
I’m a full-grown woman, Mama. I can swear if I want to.
Mama
It’s not dignified.
Laurie
I don’t reallycare.
Is it dignified for the Waterborns to spend an ungodly amount of money on a party in their luxurious mansion when there’s a housing crisis in the Republic of Balance?
No, it fucking isn’t.
Sighing, Nikhail’s fingers flew over the keyboard, crafting a response. If he didn’t step in, Laurie and Mama would get into another one of their arguments, and they’d be fighting for days.
This isn’t why I sent the picture, Laur.
Laurie
Too late, because you sent it.
Mama
It’s a beautiful picture, Nikhail.
Laney
It was nice of you to think of us, Nikky.
Laurie
I don’t even know how you can enjoy these things, Nikhail. Honestly, they’re disgusting.
He didn’t enjoy them, but it was too late for that.
Off on one of her tangents, Laurie started flooding the chat with articles reporting on the worsening housing crisis in the Republic, talking about how things were going from bad to worse. Soon, it would reach a breaking point, and it seemed like the Representatives and the Chancellor didn’t care.
Nikhail groaned, closing his messaging app. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the unhoused people in the Republic ofBalance. It was just that he’d heard this over and over again from Laurie. Once she got on something, it was very difficult to turn her attention elsewhere.
Knowing efforts to redirect his sister would be futile, Nikhail snapped a selfie to send to his mother later. He slid his still-vibrating phone into his pocket, aware that when he pulled it out again, he’d be greeted by hundreds of messages. Hopefully, Krystal, Laurie’s wife, would be able to calm her down.
Making a mental note to message his sister-in-law later and check on the situation, Nikhail took in the now-crowded ballroom. Men in black suits stood in small groups with women wearing elaborate silver and blue ballgowns. The invitation for the party had been very clear about the night’s color scheme, and everyone was obeying. Gods forbid anyone dare go against Tertia Waterborn’s wishes—that would be a recipe for disaster.
Nikhail placed his now-empty glass on a table, adjusting his silver tie. When he looked up, a familiar fae was approaching him.
“How are you doing, Arlo?” Nikhail clasped his old friend’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “Still working for the Representative?”
“That I am.” The water fae wore a dark blue suit, their hair pulled into a slicked-back bun with an undercut on both sides.
Arlo had served in the military for a decade before transitioning into politics. Now they served on Representative Waterborn’s staff as a liaison between the Central Region fae and the military. It wasn’t a position Nikhail would ever want—it involved far more politicking than he enjoyed—but it seemed to fit Arlo well.