Chapter 13
Amelia
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The interviews had gone better than I expected. A few awkward stumbles at first, but once I got in the rhythm of it, everything clicked. I could feel myself getting better–sharper. I started to enjoy it. Started to think maybe I was actually good at this.
Which, of course, was when things got complicated.
My next assignment came in with little warning: coordinate high–profile invitations for the upcoming charity event. The guest list was stacked with local dignitaries and retired warriors, but one name jumped out at me–and not in a good way.
Elder Thome.
The man was a ghost in political circles. Respected, feared, almost never seen in public. He hadn’t attended anything remotely like this before. Inviting him felt like a trap.
And then came the real catch: Jason and I were the only interns left. One of us would be offered a long–term role after the campaign. One spot. One test. My job? Get Elder Thorne to attend.
I crafted the most respectful, precise, humble invitation I could and sent it off. I knew it was a long shot.
It came back as a rejection the next morning. It looked like a form email–generic, stiff, like no one had even read what I sent. Just an automatic dismissal. My stomach sank.
Jason found me by the printers, leaned against the wall like he had nothing better to do.
“Hey,” he said with a too–pleasant smile, “Any word from Elder Thorne?”
I kept my eyes on the paper tray. “Yeah. He declined.”
He let out a low whistle. “Oof. That’s rough. I mean, it’s not really surprising, is it? People like him don’t usually show up for these things. Not unless someone.. bigger reaches out.”
1 didn’t respond.
He pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “You know, I’m just saying–it sucks this one counts so much. Especially for someone still figuring things out.”
Tm doing fine,” I said tightly.
“Sure,” he said. “Of course.”
I turned away from him just as footsteps approached.
“Amelia,” said a voice behind us. Calm. Deep.
Richard
Jason straightened instandy I turned.
Richard’s eyes scanned the tension between us before he addressed Jason directly. “That elder’s inclusion was a mistake.”
Jason blinked “Sir?”
“Thome’s political neutrality is well–known. Inviting him to a campaign–adjacent event is an unintentional provocation. He’d have no choice but to decline”
1 frowsed so he shouldn’t have been on the list at all?”
“Ny. He shouldn’t have.” Richard said, voice from but not unkind. “We risk making it look like we’re forcing him to take a side. It could backfire
e Hela joined us with a tablet and a knowing look. “The invitation’s already out. If we don’t follow up, it may lead to assumptions. A vixa in persodi would go a long way
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Chapter 13
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“I’ll go.” I said quickly–too quickly. The words were out before I even thought them through, and I blinked, a little surprised at myself. Why had I volunteered so fast? Still. I didn’t take it back.
Richard raised a brow. “You don’t have to do that alone.”
“I sent the invitation.” I said, though the words came slower this time. I hesitated before continuing, my voice quieter. “Let me fix it.” It wasn’t just about duty anymore–I needed to prove I could take responsibility, even for mistakes that weren’t entirely mine. I didn’t want to be seen as someone who needed protecting. I wanted to fix it because I could.
He held my gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “It was a team mistake. I’ll go too.”
The drive to Elder Thorne’s compound was silent. Not tense exactly, but not easy either. I kept glancing at Richard from the corner of my eye, wondering what he was thinking, but he stayed focused on the road, his expression unreadable. I sat with my hands folded in my lap, rehearsing what I might say.
When we finally pulled through the wrought–iron gates, the place looked exactly how I imagined–grand, imposing, a little bit intimidating. The guards at the front were built like they’d been carved from stone, and their eyes flicked over us like we were carrying hidden weapons.
The inside of the estate was just as serious. Quiet, cool, and filled with the kind of furniture that whispered money without ever trying too hard. Even the silence had weight to it, like everything in the room expected us to behave.
We were brought to a sitting room where the silence was heavy.
Then he entered. Every inch of him radiated control.
Thank you for seeing us,” Richard said.
I stood too. The invitation was a mistake. I wanted to apologize personally.”
Thorne looked at me. At first, coldly. But something shifted. His eyes narrowed–not in suspicion, but in recognition.
His brows knit together, then relaxed. “Sit,” he said quietly.
We did
Richard leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. “First, I want to apologize for the confusion our invitation may have caused,” he said. “It was never meant to suggest a political alliance or pressure you into making any public statement.”
Thorne raised an eyebrow, skeptical but silent.
The event itself is a fundraiser,” Richard continued. “Focused on supporting orphaned children and retired warriors–especially those with injuries or limited access to care. It’s not campaign–branded. No speeches. No party banners.”
He glanced at me briefly, then back at the elder. “It’s just about service. And visibility for those too often forgotten.”
Thorne’s eyes stayed sharp. “That’s a convenient line during campaign season.”
“It’s also the truth.” Richard said.
1 watched him as he spoke. There was no gloss to his words. He didn’t try to dress it up.
“We don’t expect endorsement. Only support for those often overlooked.”
Thorne tapped his fingers once on the armrest, then looked back at me.
“You look familiar, he murmured. “Have we met before?”
“1–no.” I said quickly. “I don’t think so”
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly. “How old are you, child?”
1 blinked Tm–uh *
The answer caught in my throat. But before I could get the words out, he waved a hand gently, as if dismissing the question.
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“No matter.” he said, almost to himself. His expression had shifted–just a flicker–but enough to make me feel like he’d already figured something out. Something I didn’t know I was part of. He didn’t press. But something in his posture softened.
Richard finished the pitch by promising transparency and reiterating the event’s goals.
Thorne was silent for a long moment. He tapped his fingers slowly against the armrest, eyes fixed on a distant spot like he was weighing every consequence. The air stretched between us.
Then finally, he exhaled through his nose, sitting back slightly. “Your clarity is… refreshing,” he said. His gaze flicked to me, unreadable. “And I respect those who take ownership of their missteps.”
Another pause.
“I will attend.” he said at last, his tone more like a decision handed down than a casual
agreement.
I almost didn’t believe it.
The next few days flew by. The tension around the office dropped a bit. Even Jason kept a wide berth. I buried myself in work until, finally, things slowed down just enough to breathe.
There’s just one thing–I happened to overhear someone talking about the “mysterious woman” seen in Richard’s lounge, speculating about who she was and what she meant to him. I needed to move out as soon as possible. I couldn’t bring Richard any more trouble.
I found a small apartment nearby–too affordable, too perfect. The landlady acted strangely, almost like she’d been expecting me.
Still, I knew staying in the lounge any longer would raise eyebrows. So I packed up quietly before dawn and moved out.
Hours later, as I unpacked, I realized I’d left something behind.
A locket. Small, old, and probably slipped between the cushions. It was the only thing I had left from my parents–nothing fancy, just worn silver and quiet sentiment, but it mattered more than almost anything I owned.
During my lunch break, I doubled back. The hall was mostly empty, the lounge door unlocked.
I slipped inside, walked to the couch, crouched, and pulled back the cushions.
There it was.
As I reached out, the door banged open.
“Well, well, well,” came a voice.
1 jumped
Jenny stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, a smirk tugging at her mouth.
“Caught you
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