The Remarried

Chapter thirteen

The Day of the Republic comes too soon. I do have my plan all thought through and as ready as it can be. There are some places in it where I will have to rely on luck and coincidence, but every plan is like that. Edmond wasn't lucky. Maybe I will be.

We are getting ready for the evening celebration at the Senate House. The atmosphere is somehow solemn and the preparations more thorough than those for the Christmas party, or even my wedding, were. The Day of the Republic asks for perfection, and the celebration at the Senate House even more. Being there means being important, and not being presentable enough would be like spitting on the country's flag.

Gemma is running around the dressing room, gathering things, while a hired make-up artist who also prepared me for my wedding is working on my face. She gave up on my hair soon enough, after my kindly advise to just stick a headband in it and let it do its thing.

I follow the artist's orders, looking up and parting my lips, but in my mind I'm somewhere else. Tonight will be my only chance to do this. I can't fail.

I stand in front of the full-length mirror when the artist is done. It sort of reminds me of the evening before my debutante ball when I was fifteen. I was wearing a beautiful white gown and a tiara, and my escort was a young man named Steven. I forgot about him as soon as the ball was over, but suddenly I think about him. I'd like to know if Steven got to be a doctor as he wanted, or if he had to take over his father's business.

Timothy is waiting with the car in front of the house. Gemma is standing by the car to help Mrs. Wintercourt get in without crumpling her robe too much. This is my moment.

"Wait, please," I say, opening my clutch bag.

The Senator turns to me impatiently. "What is the problem?"

"I forgot something," I say. "I'll be right back."

I run back inside the house and cross the hall. Then I turn the corner and go down the corridor that leads to Senator Wintercourt's office. I sneak in, open the first drawer of his desk and push at the top of it. A thin plate of veneer slides off and a plastic card falls in my hand.

I slip the card in my bag and put everything in place. In a minute I am back in front of the house, smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry," I say. "Now I'm ready."

There is a meaning behind the words that they are not aware of, and it makes me smile.

***

When we make our entrée, the ball room is already half-full. We look like a family cut out of a magazine. Senator Wintercourt pulled out his best tuxedo, while Mrs. Wintercourt opted for an emerald green gown. Saul didn't have to wreck his brains over it as it is one of the occasions on which he is supposed to wear his uniform. I commissioned a dress at Barbara's salon, much to Mrs. Wintercourt's dismay. It's navy blue, the color of the Republican Marine uniforms. On the surface it looks like a decent dress suitable for a solemn occasion, but it wouldn't be Barbara if there wasn't a naughty surprise. When I make a step, the slit on the side of the skirt shows my leg up to the thigh.

All eyes are on me, and it's all right. I want my closing night to be as spectacular as my premiere.

After about half an hour of small talk, President Trengove walks up the stage for the opening ceremony. I find the fact that I am about to do this under the President's nose very amusing.

I don't even listen to what he is saying. It's the same speech every year anyway. He speaks about the values of the Republic, thanks all the present Senators for their work, throws in a little joke here and there. I clap when the others do, counting the minutes until I go on my mission.