Guts And Glory

ACT V: CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MAKE UP YOUR MIND

He says his name like a curse, a rotten word that shouldn't be uttered—a taboo which will see him killing within seconds, and Piper is duly aware that Chase is like the reporter, too, he gets attached, to ideas, to things, to people—in a way which won't do him any good if he wishes to see the year finish. "Chase, everyone has ideas. What's to say yours are any good?" In recent weeks, Piper has found herself becoming more and more irritable—for each time that she will wave off Finn's excitement that it's soon that Piper will be named Queen, as the days continue to blend and there's no announcement made, it weakens her resolve. The stretch of time is lessening, the planning had been accurate, the timeline precise, and this waiting game is out of Piper's hands in a much more physical way than the possibility of rigging a vote for Prime Minister.

"No—I . . . I've been talking to Jesse, actually. About a more accurate punishment."

"Oh," her head tilts to the side, "life imprisonment isn't sufficient enough? Honey, it's not going to do anyone any good if you start getting greedy. I have done both you and Harriet priceless favours out of the goodness out of my heart, Chase. I can't have favourites."

"It is good," Chase assures her—though Piper doesn't need an affirmation, because Piper doesn't make stupid decisions, she's not dim—lifting out the teabag to deposit in the bin, Piper glad to discover he's not one of those people, whom leave it in whilst drinking or even worse; reuse them. "It's great."

"For someone who isn't Ayden," Piper supplies, knowing Chase well enough to fill in the blanks for when he's decided he's being gracious by omitting his words for her benefit.

"Exactly," he nods his head, eyes cast down, focusing on the sandwich he's decided to make, too. "He . . . he hurt my sister. He should be paid in kind."

"Too many hangings and the publics going to become restless," she reminds him, knowing that if it becomes ordinary, there's no fear in it. It may soon stop being a deterrent, Piper isn't stupid—but that's forty years down the line, not four weeks after Felix was the first.

"Nothing like that. Jesse and I, we were thinking . . . something like Mary."

Piper perks up at this, standing at attention, newspaper society pages forgotten, "Go on."

***

"I think it'd be wonderful, Janet—" Piper wakes up to Finn watching a gossip rag TV show, where five old hags spend two hours every morning discussing whatever has made the papers—case in point being Piper and the shouts for Queen. Finn is particularly engrossed in this topic of conversation, distractedly accepting her kiss as she wakes up, murmured words of affection that he's passively repeating. "—definitely offer Britain the security that it needs. Piper's a fantastic choice. She understands the wants and needs of the country. Yes, I agree wholeheartedly with the idea of Piper as Queen."

"Which ones yours?" Finn asks her, turning to face her now that the show has gone on a short break, highly aware of the fact that she's naked under the covers as she lifts one leg over the sheets.

"Guess," she teases, unsurprised he figured out she had ruined that circle with someone under her control. Isabella Corinth had been more amendable once Veronica had managed to pull her aside for a word—a strong reassurance that Piper isn't fourteen and stupid anymore, she understands the waters she's about to set sail in, knows what's being demanded of her, has already signed her life away on the dotted line. "Come now, Finn," she pouts, "play fairly."