Reeve flushed as Andrea scolded him. âI was doing my job, Andrea. I realise that most of the people down here donât believe anyone on the Board does what weâre paid to do, but I try to at least justify my existence and paycheck.â He flinched despite bracing himself. âAnd I didnât wander there willy-nilly, either. I checked to be sure it wasnât a wildlife hotspot, or else I wouldâve hired a guard to come with me.â
âWell, I think walling us up and leaving us to rot went a long way to that opinion,â Andrea pointed out dryly. âHowever, in all fairness, no one in Wall Market pays the Board to do anything.â
It was a standoff that wouldnât last forever, but for the moment, they were more useful, or at least less troublesome, left to their own devices. Still, one has to wonder when the next âaccidentâ will strike, and whether Wall Market will be the target. One of many things that kept him up at night--but it wasnât enough to make him leave. He knew little else (more importantly, he didnât want to) and this was his home. Heâd worked for it. That meant something.
âI suppose the real question, then, is who knew where you were going all on your so-dutiful lonesome?â
It was stupid to ask if he had enemies; who didnât? He could have led an entirely blameless existence (doubtful), and still had them, simply for the power he held.
Andrea set a bottle within Reeveâs reach. He was going to want that soon. Alcohol was cheaper than anesthetic, and he wasnât going to waste the latter on something the former plus a little ice could handle.
âLavender or vanilla?â He held the two candles for Reeveâs inspection. Theyâd both have to smell it while he was sterilizing the needles, but he didnât mind either scent.
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