I haven’t found the case I want. But I still don’t go back to reading through the files, even though I theoretically have time to before we go. I’m not quite sure I can face another of those tragic stories which are all too real.

  It will make what comes next harder, though. Persuading Simon would have been much easier if I had a name and a file to give him, if I had it all planned out already. As it is… I try to think through the practicalities and work out his likely objections.

  Where’s the money for this coming from? Edward. And I know he has no moral objections to taking Blackthorn money.

  How are we going to deal with this on top of all our other cases? They have a third partner now. And I’ll help, even if I don’t know enough to be as useful as a qualified lawyer.

  This is going to –

  “Ready, Tallulah?”

  I blink a few times to bring myself back to reality. “When you are,” I say. I’ve checked my bag half a dozen times already. I have my quills, plenty of parchment, the remaining case files and A History of the Kings of Rasin. Plus the enchanted items Lord Blackthorn gave me in case of emergency. And the ring that can summon him on my finger. I forget it exists a lot of the time, and no-one has remarked on it. I wonder if it’s possible for there to be attention-deflecting magic built into it.

  But I’m as ready as I’m going to get. I’m more nervous than I should be, I realise, considering this isn’t as scary as a lot of other things I’ve dealt with. Yes, the fate of the project rests on today, but I’ve had conversations with Lord Blackthorn and Electra with the same thing or more at stake.

  Maybe it’s just that I didn’t have enough warning about those conversations to be nervous. Or maybe what I’m worried about is different.

  “Let’s go, then.”

  And we set off. We make it out of the building without incident; I barely even remember to be scared of encountering any of the other residents. It’s a cold morning; it wasn’t warm even indoors, but it’s still a shock stepping into the freezing air. I cast a quick warming-spell. Magic does have its advantages.

  It’s Simon who’s making me nervous, I realise. We never knew each other that well, but I liked him and I think he liked me. But we haven’t met since before I Fell. Will he even recognise the Malaina girl trying to persuade him to take on a difficult case as the daughter of his friend and partner? Will he accept her, or be afraid of me?

  The walk helps. With the warming-spell taking the edge off the chill, I can almost enjoy the fresh air and the bracing wind. It feels as if the wind is blowing away my dark tangled thoughts and refreshing my mind.

  We arrive at the office too quickly. I expect a welcoming committee to be waiting for us there, but we’re ten minutes early; the office is deserted except for the receptionist. I can’t remember his name, though I’ve met him once or twice before.

  “Morning, Jamie,” says my dad, saving me from that awkwardness. “Anything I should be aware of?”

  “Morning.” Jamie looks up and his gaze fixes on me. Searching, wary. “Nothing urgent. Tara said she’ll fill you in on what you missed yesterday when she gets in. Is that – “

  “I believe you’ve met my daughter, Tallulah?” My dad is a mild, soft-spoken man. I don’t ever remember him raising his voice. That only makes the edge to his tone now seem sharper. I love him for it.

  “We have met a couple of times,” I agree, keeping my tone carefully neutral. I don’t want to cause a scene.

  Jamie, apparently, does. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but – are you sure it’s a good idea to bring her here?”

  “Why on earth would it not be?”

  I understand why my dad is saying that. Make Jamie commit to saying he has a problem with me or else shut up and leave me alone. I still wish he hadn’t done it, though, because I don’t want to hear his response.

  “I don’t have a problem with it, of course, but – “

  The spike of anger that hits me is sudden and unexpected. Not only does he definitely have a problem with it, he doesn’t even have the courage to say it to my face. I want more than anything to make him eat those words –

  Charles First-King. Edwin the Just. No. If I do that, I prove him right.

  “ – she does have quite the reputation, and if our clients see her here, is that really what we want associated with our business?”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Much though I hate to admit it, that is a somewhat valid point. Roberts and Bryant should be known for being a good law firm, not for the fact one of their partners happens to be my dad.

  “If my clients are going to object to her presence, I don’t want them as clients.” He says it as if it’s a statement of fact. Maybe for him, it is, but for me it means a lot more.

  “Does Simon agree with that?” Jamie asks casually.

  “I – “ My dad hesitates.

  He doesn’t know. Nor do I. And just like that, he’s lost control of the situation. I need to do something. But what – oh. “Do you want me to leave?” I ask.

  “Tallulah – “

  I ignore my dad and hope he’ll figure out what I’m doing and that his interference won’t help it. “Because I will, if you want me to. If it’s for the best for Roberts and Bryant that I’m not associated with it any more than I have to be, then that’s fine.”

  It’s a bluff, but if Jamie calls it then I’m prepared to actually leave. I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. But I’m still hoping that he won’t do that, because he’d be explicitly going against my dad that way, and because he doesn’t know any more than I do how Simon will react, and because he’s already shown reluctance to explicitly say he doesn’t want me here.

  And my guess pays off. “I – I was just raising a possibility you might not have considered. I didn’t mean to imply – “

  “Then it’s settled,” my dad says firmly. “Tallulah is staying here.”

  There’s nothing Jamie can say to disagree. It does make the silence as we wait for the others to arrive substantially more awkward, though.

  Tara arrives at eight and fifty-five. I blink a few times when I see her; the word that comes to mind is radiant. She was cheerful before – or maybe that was just in comparison to my own state at the time – but now she wears a smile bright as the sun and a warm yet elegant blue dress which makes her look graceful as any noble lady.

  “Good morning, Ben!” she says, smiling broader than ever as she glides through the door. “Good morning, Jamie! And Tallulah! It’s so good to see you again. Thank you so much for the introduction to your father. It really did change my life.”

  I squirm a little at the praise. “It’s good to see you too. You seem to be doing well here?”

  “Never been better,” Tara agrees. “How are you settling back in at home?”

  I force myself not to wince at her phrasing. I’m not sure how much she knows about my family situation, but she couldn’t have known how awkward the word home would feel.

  “It’s good,” I say, trying to convince myself. “I’d forgotten how nice my dad’s cooking is.” That bit, at least, is completely true.

  “Oh?” Tara replies. “I’d love to try it some time.” She glances at my dad, who stutters “Well – uh – maybe – “

  I look from my dad to Tara and back, processing the surreal implications of that little interaction. But he’s still married – but he still loves my mother (at least I think he does; I’ve never quite dared ask) – but she has to be nearly a decade younger than him, unless she’s a lot older than she looks –

  But he’s my dad. That’s the main mental sticking point. Maybe I’m just imagining things, reading too much into a meaningless teasing exchange. It would explain her newfound happiness, though, and – no. I refuse to contemplate it any further.

  “I can wait a while,” Tara says lightly. “Delightful as it is to have Tallulah’s company, we do have work to be getting on with. Ben, I wanted to fill you in on the latest developments with – “

  “Actually,” I make myself say. “This isn’t just a social call. I was hoping to consult you – you and Simon – about legal business.”

  “Oh? Ask away. Can’t promise I’ll have all the answers, but between us we should be able to figure out whatever it is.”

  “No – as in, I want to hire Roberts and Bryant to represent me.”

  Tara narrows her eyes, and adjusts her posture to stand straighter and more tense. Subtle changes, but they add up to transform her from a graceful lady to a competent, focused lawyer. “What sort of case are we talking about? Civil, or…?”

  “Probably civil? Or – wait, no, there’s a term for it – “ I close my eyes for a second, searching for it, and it appears in my mind: “Civilly prosecuted.” Meaning that while the unlawful killing of Malaina under Section Twelve is considered a criminal offence, no-one can be arrested for it and no-one can be tried for it unless a citizen files charges against them.

  Tara blinks once. “A minor cannot file for civil prosecution unless they are the victim of the offence in question, and either have the permission of their legal guardian or the guardian is the accused party.”

  “Those circumstances aren’t applicable. But I’ll only be a minor for three more weeks, and it’s not that time sensitive.” I had forgotten that obstacle, in truth. But it’s one that will go away on its own, not something I’ll have to scheme my way around.

  “The other obstacle would be conflict of interest, I suppose. That depends on the specific law you’re filing under, though – “

  “It won’t be a problem here.” I checked that one, at least.

  “In that case it is perfectly legal for us to take you on as a client. Jamie, do I have an hour this morning to schedule a meeting with Tallulah about this – “

  “Don’t agree to anything just yet,” my dad says. “This is… getting involved in this could have far-reaching consequences.”

  “Oh, interesting,” Tara says.

  “I’ll explain once Simon gets here.” I’d really rather not have to do it twice.

  “Speak of a starless sky,” my dad says dryly, and in walks Simon himself. He looks about the same as I remember: very ginger with a stubbly beard and a warm smile.

  “Morning, all,” he says. “Long time no see, Tallulah.”

  “Good to see you again – “

  “Morning – “

  “I think Tallulah wants to – “

  “Mr Roberts said – “

  I, my dad, Tara and Jamie all speak at once, and then stop awkwardly as we realise the others are also talking.

  Simon laughs. “One at a time, please.”

  “Morning,” says my dad. “And sorry about the situations you’ll have to deal with before work gets done.”

  Simon’s smile fades into a pensive look. I go next, since my comment isn’t going to lead directly to one of those situations. “It’s good to see you again,” I say.

  “Mr Roberts,” Jamie repeats impatiently, “said that he didn’t want clients who don’t want Tallulah here.”

  “Did he, now?” Simon asks. “What – “

  “It is relevant,” Tara says, “that Tallulah is herself a prospective client.”

  “Oh? That is definitely interesting. I’m sure one of us can – “

  “We need to discuss this together,” my dad insists.

  “Well then. I think Tallulah had better explain what she wants from us.”