“Never mind,” I drop it because I’m not sure if I should tell him. I don’t know who I can trust. Allowing Tofer to put the “grandma goggles” on my eyes, I bite my lip as he makes a noise that sounds like he’s choking.
“What is it?” Yazer asks, leaning nearer to see the readout. Then, Yazer makes a similar noise to the one Tofer had made.
“She’s really—” Tofer begins.
“Yes, she is,” Yazer agrees with satisfaction in his tone. “She can be taken for processing now. I’ll advise the Regent.” Yazer smiles at me again, looking thrilled while walking to the door. Opening it, he speaks to Ustus as he’s invited into the room. “You can remand her to the corrective court now and then…” he trails off, giving me the sense that there is a plan in play where I’m concerned. “You must stay with her—make sure she’s protected.”
“Those are my orders,” Ustus replies. He gestures for me to follow him as he ushers me out of the palace and into the Rolls Royce hover vehicle with the other agents. Passing through guarded archways that have wrought-iron gates with blue beams of light coursing between them, I absorb as much of the outside world as I can. We’re moving near the ground level and there are several other levels of traffic over our heads that I see through a sunroof. But the speed at which we’re traveling is fierce, making it almost impossible to see details as buildings blur past.
“Can we slow down?” I ask them, trying to look out the back window at the scenery because the side windows are too hard to see anything.
“This isn’t a tour trolley,” Ustus replies, typing something on his communicator as he smiles at his own joke. He’s smaller than the other agents, but his features are more refined.
“No, just a ship of fools,” I reply blandly, getting a smile from a couple of the agents while others frown at me.
“This does feel like a fools errand,” Ustus agrees.
“Why’s that?” I quirk my eyebrow.
“You won’t be staying there.”
“I won’t?” I wonder how much he knows about what’s going to happen to me.
“Everything regarding your case has already been decided,” he replies. “This is just a formality.”
“What do you mean? I wanted to retain a wigg,” I say, feeling my heartbeat pick up.
“Why? One will be appointed for you. You’re a minor,” he looks at me and frowns, like he’s reevaluating the word he just used to describe me. His eyes linger on my breasts a little too long.
“Court appointed attorneys usually turn out to be…how can I put this delicately...oh, I know, total knob knockers,” I reply with sarcasm, causing laughter to erupt from several of the agents.
“Please refrain from using that language. It makes you sound common,” he sniffs prudishly. “What is an ‘attorney?’” Ustus looks grudgingly amused now.
“It’s a wigg and stop pretending that you don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I doubt it will matter much, Fay Kricket,” Ustus says, using my name for the first time. “I’m to stay with you while you’re there. That means you’ll be returning with me.”
“But, that’s insane! I haven’t had time to prepare a case! I don’t even know what laws I’m being charged with breaking. I haven’t been able to research a defense!” I panic.
“You’re going to be taken care of—” he starts to assure me, but I cut him off.
“I don’t want anyone taking care of me,” I retort, frowning at him. “I want to make my own choices about what I do with my life!”
“Good for you,” he smiles. “You’ll just have to wait until you’re twenty floans for that day to come. Until then, I’m in charge of your case.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, get used to seeing my face because I’m in charge,” he says, just like a parent.
“NO!”
“Yes,” he dismisses my objection in a calm tone, while typing away on his phone again.
“I was hoping my father had some family here. Someone who might help me get on my feet.”
“I would not count on that,” Ustus sighs quietly. “I read some of the Hollowell files. Your father’s family has taken steps to disinherit any offspring resulting from the match of Pan Hollowell to Arissa Valke.”
“Why?” I ask, not able to stop myself.
“I don’t know their reasons, but the court documents shifted all assets to an uncle…” he taps his communicator, scanning it, “Ah, Farren Hollowell, Pan’s brother. They couldn’t take away the title though. That’s still yours.”
“The title?”
“Your father was Corinet, so the title falls to you. You’re a Coriness—making you ‘Fay Kricket.’”
“What does ‘Fay’ mean?” I feel a stab of pain while realizing that I have family, but they think I’m trash.
“It’s a title,” he looks confused by my question.
“Like Miss?”
“No, like… Dame…Lady?” he asks, trying to relate it to something human.
“Will you notify the Hollowell family that I exist?”
“Yes,” he replies honestly. I nod, dropping the subject as I kick around in my head what I was just told. I can only think of a couple of reasons why someone would go to those lengths to redirect assets: greed and shame. Neither reason is making me feel hopeful of meeting my long lost family.
The car slows then, pulling into a drive and parking where the sign posted clearly says, “restricted.” Opening my door, Ustus and the other agents lead me to the brilliant glass building ahead of us. This place is so different from the palace that the only similarity is that they’re both excessively clean and elegant. This building, however, is modern in a way that I’ve never seen before. It’s all glass in the lobby and the tiers of floors above our heads go on for at least a mile up. Glass walkways that are completely transparent rise above our heads, taking my breath away.
“Oh, I get it,” I say, looking at Ustus’s face. He raises his eyebrow and I say, “It’s a metaphor—a transparent system of justice.” Ustus looks around then, as if seeing the building for the first time. “I prefer my justice to be blind,” I say dryly.
“I never made the connection,” Ustus murmurs, gesturing me toward a glass elevator.
“No, you just like it because you can see up all the girlie’s skirts,” I smirk.
“Does everything that you think come out of your mouth?” Ustus frowns. “If you will notice, the glass darkens to opaque when it is stepped upon.”
“Oh,” I say. “I’m usually a lot more cautious about what I say. I just feel like maybe there’s not a lot left for me to lose.” Tears sting my eyes. I take a breath, choking them back down.
“You should really rethink that opinion, Fay Kricket. It will get you into trouble.”
Getting off the elevator at the hundred and fourth floor, we walk across a glass causeway that gives me vertigo because we’re so high up. When we pass through the threshold into a room, I realize that the outside is only an illusion of transparency, because inside the room is completely different then the façade has led me to believe.