Azaleen glanced up from her desk, thankful for the interruption. The numbers were making her head spin.
“I don’t see how you can afford the Kingdom Day FestivalMs. Fontaine,” Vera pronounced loudly between gritted teeth, flashing a glare at the interruption, “has planned. It’s a preposterous misappropriation of funds.”
“Hold that thought,” Azaleen articulated, shifting her focus to Sabine. “Yes?”
“Captain Moreau and his team are back, and Secretary Shaw is here to see you.” As usual, her soft-spoken Jill-of-all-trades ignored Vera’s dig, the picture of professionalism.
“Have them meet me in the War Room,” Azaleen decreed. “Secretary Sutherland, it is vital to kingdom security that next month’s festival is grander thanany before it. You’re a creative woman. Shuffle some funds around. Cut costs on other projects. Make it happen. Come back to see me when you’ve solved it.” With a regal air, Azaleen glided to her feet. Vera, wearing the mortified expression of one asked to juggle lit sticks of dynamite, stood also.
“I’ll get to work on it immediately.” The fifty-plus-year-old accounting specialist pushed up her glasses and clipped away on her black heels.
Sabine graciously stepped aside, ignoring Vera’s pointed glare, then winked at Azaleen. “I’ll go fetch them.”
Azaleen was anxious to receive the full briefing. She’d thought about just getting it from Lark but decided to give her space. Besides, what she really wanted was a report about the newest member of the team. She walked down the second-floor hallway, taking a moment to admire the art. Over breakfast, Caelen had enthused about an art project his class was doing at school. The arts were vital to maintaining civilization, and artistic expression was valuable to the individual.Physiological needs, safety, love and belonging, esteem, and self-actualization. We need them all to live happy, productive lives.
The queen had taken her seat in proximity to the expansive map table and sipped a dandelion tea when Sabine showed the others in. Desmond Shaw moseyed to his seat like an entitled cattle baron. Captain Moreau and his team followed with confident but humble strides, taking seats around the table. Naturally, Shaw secured the chair closest to Azaleen.
“Your Excellency,” he said, sweeping his hat from his head. He propped an ankle on his knee, dropped the hat into his lap. “You all need to hear my report,” he stated, glancing at the VERT team, “but I s’pose Moreau should go first.”
Azaleen regarded the tall Black man from Appalachia with disapproval. Sabine assured her he checked out. His wife, former employers, and clients for whom he’d scavenged swore to his legitimacy and competency. Still.
“More respect, less bravado, Secretary Shaw,” she adjured. Changing focus to Luke, she simply stated, “Report.”
He filled her in on the details of the mission, the condition of the forest they encountered, and the close calls. Azaleen noted the edge of a clean bandageprotruding from Diego Marín’s sleeve. Skye Navarro boasted a fresh cut on her forehead … Harlan McCrae’s sunburned face.
“I need the solid T on Sutter.” Azaleen’s impenetrable gaze swept across the team.
“She’s mag,” Wes answered with a shrug.
“Had my back,” Skye affirmed.
“Lark’s a little green, but I can’t recall a rookie ever doing better,” Diego reported.
“She climbed that wall like a spider,” Harlan testified. “Cool under pressure.”
“And she obeyed orders?” Azaleen asked.
Luke nodded, folded his hands between his knees. He met Azaleen’s gaze. “Lark has excellent reflexes. She’s quick, smart, and curious. Fearless. The only thing that gave her pause was attacking the wildlings who took up in the hospital.”
Azaleen leaned back, scrutinizing Luke in confusion. “She wasn’t afraid of a mutant bear, radiation poisoning, or a pack of warg, but she was scared of Neanderthals?”
“No, Your Excellency,” he corrected. “She wasn’t afraid of them. She didn’t want to kill them. They had kids.” He sighed and shook his head. “You know they can’t be reasoned with, and they were holding the hospital. It was the only way.”
A fine, firm body, an innocent charm, passionate emotions, mad skills, and she has a heart—not just for her friend Tommy, but even for primitive strangers who might have eaten her given the chance.That was enough thinking about Lark Sutter.
“Thank you, Captain, team. Now, Secretary Shaw.” She raised a speculative brow at him. “What do you have to share?”
Desmond rolled his neck, a sly grin on his thick lips. “I got word from a friend who knows a traveling merchant who happened upon what could be a tremendous find. Over in the neighborhood of Tupelo, he stumbled upon a sealed, underground vault, like your famous grandfather’s, I suppose. I had him mark the exact spot on a map. Now the fellow tried to open it and couldn’t. Isuspect your elite team here could pop that lid like a Champagne cork.” He shot a challenging glance at Diego.
“It could be empty,” Skye alleged. “That’s a long trip.”
“I’m sending a commodities shipment, including some medical supplies, out that way regardless,” Azaleen declared. “You should go along as an escort for the cargo and investigate the vault while you’re there. Two birds, one stone. Like Skye said, it could have been raided decades ago—nothing but spiderwebs and skeletons. Then again, if the vault owner was anything like Grandpa Wynn Frost, we’ll be in high cotton for a while. Luke, you’ll need to swear in Ms. Sutter. She’s chosen to stay.”
“What about her friend?” Skye asked with concern. “I thought she’d already be back at Saltmarsh Reach with her antibiotics.”
Azaleen swallowed a lump, pushing down sentiment.No place for weakness.“Young Mr. Tommy no longer requires the medicine.” Nobody questioned her reply. They all understood its meaning.
Chapter twenty
