The Story of Jane

In Which We Try To Fix The (Not So) Bad Idea

"What is the problem with you both?" Irene crossed her arms as she looked at the two women standing in front of her. "Did I not say, did I not tell you about the consequences of holding a protest?"

"There was nothing wrong with the protests—"

"Do you want to tell that to them, Sernine?" She tossed today's paper on her desk.

TEN SEVERELY INJURED IN DEWWARD WOMEN RALLY

"Do you want to go to the children of these mothers and inform them when their parent is dead? Are you willing to take them in, to give them the childhood the both of you have stolen from every single girl in this kingdom?"

"No ma'am—"

"Then why the hell did you do it?" She stood, banging her fist on the table. "It's a miracle none of you were spotted. You're both safe for now." She pulled out a cigarette and sat down. "But next time you pull a stunt like this, I won't be there to clean up your mess, understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

Irene took another pull from her cigarette before turning to Jane. "We need to salvage your reputation."

"I'm sorry, salvage?"

"My mother is rarely sympathetic, Wilson. Once she finds out you're the culprit, she'll be on the warpath." She handed them each a set of documents. "If we're going to avoid that, we need to draw attention away from this." She gestured to the paper.

"And what? I have to be the poster girl for the revolution?" Jane scoffed. "I'm not another one of your maids Irene. I'm not going to pose for a pretty photo just to save face."

"No, you're right." Irene shook her head. "You're not a maid. You're the duchess of Dewward. A position you have yet to fight for."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you are the face of this whether you want it or not. This isn't about you, Jane. This is about all of them," She pointed out the window, to a crowd of workers going about their day. "You have to be perfect. For everyone. You break, they fall. You crack, they fall. If you show any weakness whatsoever—"

"They fall." Jane closed her eyes, counting in her head before opening them. "Time to be a soldier," she sighed, smoothing down the front of her skirts. "What's the plan?"

"Businesses." Irene gestured to the booklets in their hands. "The Earl of Althea is pulling out of Lyrell, that much is clear. The economic collapse will not only affect Althea ad Dewward, but the entire kingdom. If we can buy back his establishments, his shops, we can prevent the collapse."

"Save the kingdom and Jane," Emma muttered, flipping through the pages. "That might just work."

"But how are we going to get anyone to stay?" Jane asked. "He's obviously going to fire all his staff. Or give them a week's notice soon. I don't have a source of income anymore. I still owe Reginald. And I doubt it's possible to buy back his business at a price of 800 crowns."

"No," she tilted her head, almost identical to how Jane used to. "But there's a possibility that the right buyer can... convince him to lower the price."

"You're not suggesting brute force," Emma stepped in. "Are you?"

"No, no," Irene chuckled, only worrying them further. "I don't think the situation calls for it. Yet."

"What sort of situation do you think we'd find ourselves in need of brute force?"

"Well," she cleared her throat, suppressing a smile. "That's really not what I'm getting to, Jane. My brother isn't exactly the man you would turn to for brute force."

"What has Kit got to do with this?"

It always surprised her how different the royal siblings were. They both had a fascination for the macabre and were unbelievably talented, but there was where the resemblance ended. The Kit she had fallen for was so much more laid back than Irene. Irene who spent late nights reading medical journals. Irene who always had another card to play when the game seemed to end. Irene who was cold and harsh compared to Kit. It was hard to read her sometimes. And those were the times that scared Jane the most.

"He's our saving grace," Emma's eyes widened. "I see what you're getting to."

"I don't." Jane looked at them and their knowing faces. "Seriously, someone has to tell me what we're going to do."

"Don't worry about it." Irene assured her. "All you have to do is smile for the cameras."

__________

"Ready?" Jane asked, fixing his cravat. "Remember, don't settle for anything more than 1000 crowns. You have height over him, rank. You can use that to your advantage. This is for the good of the kingdom, for the better of the cause. Don't slip for the slightest second—"

"Jane, I'll be fine." He assured her, staring into her deep brown eyes. "You have your own problems to worry about."

"But you aren't comfortable with confrontations. What if he corners you? I'm not there to stop that—"

"Don't spiral." He reminded her. "It's a negotiation. Not a complex math problem."

"I don't know what you mean. We'd both much prefer the math problem." She smiled as she brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders and pecked him on the nose. "Good luck."

"You too."