Feyland: The Bright Court

Chapter Eighteen

Jennet made herself hurry to Roy’s after George drove her home. She hummed along on her g-board over the empty streets, leaning forward to increase her speed until she arrived at Lassiter Palace. Her skin chilled from the winter air, she tucked her cold hands in her pockets and waited for the house to let her in.

The door slid open. Roy stood in the entryway, but she couldn’t see Marny. Fear snagged in her throat. Was her friend all right?

“Hey,” he said. “You made good time over here. Couldn’t wait to see me, hm?”

She stepped into the house and propped her g-board by the door. “Where’s Mar—”

“You came over.” Marny said, appearing in a nearby doorway. “Can’t you give it a rest?”

“Nice to see you too, Marny.” She actually meant it, though the other girl wouldn’t take it that way.

Roy smiled. “You two are cute. Come on in and have something to drink. House,” he raised his voice, “three mochas in the sitting room.”

“Right away, sir,” the network said in its tinny tones.

Jennet saw Marny looking around, locating the speakers and cameras tucked up in the corners. It must seem weird to her. On second thought, it was kind of strange, living in a house that tracked your every move.

Marny lifted her hand and fingered the guest pass clipped to her shirt. Did she feel as out-of-place here as Tam had the first time he’d come up to The View—or did Roy’s glamour smooth over her reactions?

“Come along, ladies,” Roy said, waving them forward.

“Fine,” Marny said. She pivoted and stalked back down the hall.

After a second, Jennet followed. She could feel Roy right behind her. This was so awkward—but who knew what he would do to Marny, if she wasn’t there?

The sitting room was all done up in blue velvet, like some prince’s antechamber. Which it probably was—at least in Roy’s mind. Jennet wanted to take one of the chairs clustered around the low, ornate table, but instead she sat on the couch next to Marny. Now there wouldn’t be enough room for Roy.

Marny made a face and leaned away, but at least she stayed on the couch. Ignoring their little interplay, Roy went to the wall and slid aside a panel. He returned carrying a tray with three gold-rimmed china mugs on it.

“Don’t you have staff?” Jennet asked.

She had finally figured out what made the Lassiter’s so eerie. It seemed empty of life. Even this plush room had an air of disused silence.

“Yeah,” Roy said, “but not, you know, in-your-face maids. Though I guess some people like that kind of overdone service.” There was a mocking twist to his words.

“At least I talk to more than just my house when I’m at home,” she said.

There was Marie, and George, and the chef, and a couple of maids named Tish and Trixie. Whom, she had to admit, she mixed up about half the time. Of course, they had only been hired a few months ago, whereas the house manager and chauffeur had been on staff for years.

“You Viewers are like aliens,” Marny said. “There’s an extreme unreality effect up here. Maybe it’s in the air or something.”

“Or the water.” Roy gave her a sly look. “How do you like your mocha?”

Marny rolled her eyes and took a big sip. Then she smiled—the first genuine smile Jennet had seen on her face since she’d gone off with Roy at lunch.