Interloper

“How could you allow this to happen?” she shrieked.

I flicked imaginary lint from my suit. “The girl was on the guest list, madam. We could hardly have barred her entry.”

“Find someone to fire for it.”

 “Of course.”

The rich are cavalier with other people’s lives and oh so distraught when there’s a tiny irritation in their own. Sometimes, I wonder why I bother with them at all. Then I remember that they throw the most fabulous parties. I admit to my weaknesses, although never in public.

 “Will there be anything else? I’d like to send my crew home.” They’d been reliable all evening, but they were tired. If I didn’t let them off soon, they’d turn into beasts.

 “She had to have help. That child could hardly have orchestrated such a complex scheme on her own, much less procured the necessary trappings to pull it off. She utterly ruined the evening. I want you and your people to ferret out how.”

“And what are we to do when we find the ones that did this?”

“Bring them to me. Don’t bother to tell our hosts. This is a family matter. My daughter deserves the future we have planned. I will give that little interloper the punishment she deserves. Anyone who helped her gets the same or worse.”

“Yes, madam.”

 As she swooped down the hall, I flicked my fingers. Her corset lacings burst, followed by a terrible screech as her gown gave out.

I smiled and went to tell Cinder the gig was up.