Eventually, Lord Montrose insisted that Richard tell the other guests about a major breakthrough in a case he’d been working on. Richard hesitated, then relented.
“I can’t say much right now, as the investigation is ongoing,” he cautioned, “but I have good cause to believe that there’s a web of organized crime in Viryana that seeks to corrupt Welkland through the drug trade.”
Disconcerted murmurs broke out around the table.
“Is it related to the Jackal?” Lady Olivia asked, wide-eyed, causing a second round of chatter.
Poppy blinked, confused but unwilling to expose her ignorance. However, Richard turned to her anyway, explaining, “Since you’ve been gone, a criminal who identifies himself as ‘the Jackal’ has risen to notoriety. He’s responsible for various grifts, extorting the poor, dealing in contraband, committing murder and arson. What makes him so difficult to catch, however, is the complexity behind his schemes. We estimate his network to include over two hundred people, which would make him the head of the largest organized crime setup in the city, if not the island.”
“Crime has certainly spiked,” Lord Alderfort said meaningfully. “It was never like this before, was it, Your Grace?”
Poppy recognized the thinly veiled accusation as easily as her father. “Crime rates have gone up with the population,” he replied, lifting one brow. “Any man who understands numbers will understand this. As the poverty rate has increased, resources are stretched thin. We need to have a firm hand with these people, just as the Founder would have done.”
The Founder was the first Welkish king. Before he’d united Welkland under his banner, the people on the continent had lived in motley villages and towns, with limited trade or interaction. His writings described how he’d rallied the people, flushing out those who wielded the “unnatural and arcane” practice of magic as a means of oppressing and dividing the common folk. With such inequality gone, he raised Welkland to a free society where everyone had a purpose and a place. In the absence of magic, new advancements in medicine and industrialization abounded, allowing Welkland to develop exponentially. His teachings became a manifesto for his successors, who followed one of the final instructions in the book like a commandment: To go and shape other nations in the world so that they might resemble the utopia of Welkland.
Talk of the Founder jostled something in Poppy’s brain. She glanced at Richard, at the red stripe of his captain’s uniform, then took a deep breath. “If I may, my lords.”
The rest of the room turned to stare, but Poppy continued. “The Founder writes that crime is the hobby of an idle man. Instead of using his energy and talent to contribute to a greater society, he uses it to benefit himself. We ought to encourage these men to make better use of themselves than such selfish pursuits.”
“And how do you propose we do that, Miss Sutherland?” This question came, as Poppy hoped it might, from Richard. He held her gaze, interest clear in his blue eyes.
“We ought to penalize indolence,” she replied, speaking directly to him. “On the drive home, I saw so many men lounging in the streets, unoccupied. These men ought to be fined for loitering. That will motivate them to find other, more productive places to be.”
Poppy finished her speech, taking a bite of rice pudding in an attempt to erase the foul taste on her tongue. Her suggestion was repulsive?—not to mention illogical. The solution to unemployment wasnotto strip those without income of whatever little funds they might have. But to this audience, poverty was a crime, a moral failing meant to reassure them about the integrity of their own immense wealth while others went without. Punishment would appeal to them, even if it didn’t solve the problem.
Her mouth still tasted bitter. Poppy recalled her earlier determination.If there is no place for me at this table, I will carve it out myself.No matter what it took.
She picked up her spoon and took another bite of her rice pudding, hyperaware of Richard’s eyes roving over her face. She resisted the urge to fidget. The Hawk had beaten that behavior out of her during her first few months at Thornhaven, but between her ugly words and Richard’s gaze, the impulse resurfaced in full force.
Finally, his lips curled upward. “An interesting solution,” Richard allowed, and Poppy could have sworn that a hint of admiration laced his tone.
She tentatively smiled back, then ducked her head again.Poise is a must in a lady,the Hawk had preached,but there is a fine line between being self-assured and being arrogant.
Cassandra cleared her throat, pulling the attention to herself. She leaned forward, her rouged lips forming a sly smile Poppy recognized from girlhood. “Did you study the works of the Founder when you were in Welkland,MissSutherland?” she asked, leaning on the common prefix. “I don’t recall your being so... educated.”
Poppy clenched her teeth at the thinly veiled insult but forced herself to smile at Lady Cassandra. “I did. We even had a chance to see the capital and tour the places where he once lived. It was a transformative experience.”
“I daresay the whole seven years was transformative,” Lord Whitecliff said. “Your Grace, it is no secret that I had my reservations about your decision to adopt a Virian. In fact, I recall a conversation we had where I insisted that it was impossible to change the nature one had been born with, and you would only ever find disappointment by pursuing such a path. It seems, however, that I underestimated the power of a good Welkish education. You have become a rarity, Miss Sutherland.”
“Poppy always had it in her.” Her father beamed. “In a way, she is the perfect example of what we can achieve on the island. Every Virian has the capacity to become an educated, well-mannered, productive member of society, if only they’d let go of their uncivilized ways. Would you believe that they used to have a barbaric system of segregation? Everything was determined by the circumstances of their birth?—the jobs one could hold, the public space one could occupy, even the people one could marry. When we assumed control, we did away with this, naturally, and modernized the law.
“But that core belief, that one can’t rise above the caste assigned at one’s birth, is what makes the Virian people so averse to self-improvement. It’s deeply ingrained in their psyche, this idea that no one can change. But we know better, and it’s up to us to use the wisdom the Founder left us to make the island a better place, as Poppy just demonstrated.”
“Thank you, Father,” Poppy said, though his praise only further stirred her guilt over her vile suggestion. The only thing she could agree with him on was the caste system. Every citizen should have a chance at upward mobility, regardless of the station of their birth?—after all, hadn’t Poppy herself had that benefit? If she’d been condemned to live out her life confined to the circumstances of her birth, she’d have been a street rat and a thief at best. But the duke had taken a chance by adopting her, and she hoped that he knew how much that meant. In a rare, genuine moment, she blurted out, “I’ve worked hard to make you proud.”
He beamed at her. “You have. You are the best heir I could have hoped for.” Poppy’s heart swelled, tripping slightly over the wordheir. “Your use of the Founder’s teachings?—most men would try and come up with their own solution, but we should all strive to put the wisdom of the Founder first. Though you may be a woman, you’re a natural-born problem solver.” His gaze swept across the room. “See how she speaks? She commands the attention of others like a true leader. If she were a man, she’d have done well as viceroy.” He turned his expression back to Poppy, pride glinting in his eyes. “Even as the next viceroy’s wife, she holds the potential to make great change. Any man who weds her would be a fool to exclude her from his office.”
By the time her father’s speech was done, Poppy didn’t know quite where to look. She had to fight the urge to duck her head. She’d never heard him extol her virtues for so long, or so publicly. Old age must have made him more generous. Either that or he’d had a touch too much wine.
As the servants cleared the dessert, her father rose. “Gentlemen, if you’d follow me to my study, we can continue our conversation there. Perhaps with a glass of port?”
Per custom, the women and men began to separate. As Poppy rose to follow the other ladies, Richard stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her heart jumped in her chest at the contact, but she schooled her features into a neutral expression the way the Hawk had taught her. A lady knew when to hide how she really felt,especiallyin the presence of a gentleman.
“Forgive me for being so direct.” Richard clasped his hands behind his back. “I must say how much I admired your response. Your father is justified in his praise.”
Poppy concealed her satisfied smirk with a demure glance down at her feet. “I’m flattered you think so, Captain.”
“Do you envision yourself as an advisor to your future husband, when he is viceroy?” he inquired. “Most women don’t pay much mind to politics.”
