“Yes. Happened earlier today.”

Ophelia moved closer. Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

Goldie turned sapphire eyes to her. “Oh, come now, you’re smarter than that, you know what I mean.” She draped herself across the chaise and fixed parts of her skirt and robe to cover her. “Listen, I know you’re fond of them,” Goldie turned eyes to her pointedly, “but that’s not how this operates. They pay to have priority, and as of this morning, someone has paid more. It’s business. Nothing else.”

Goldie fell into her wine again as Ophelia huffed and fumed.

“By whom?”

Goldie took a long pull, forcing Ophelia to wait for the answer. When she finished the glass, Goldie snapped for an employee to pour more. A Shroom zipped over and carefully filled her cup, then zipped back. She focused on the wine before looking up to Ophelia, and as if suddenly realizing she was still there, spoke.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” She waved her wrist.

“It does to me.”

“Why? They’re all the same.”

Ophelia snorted. “I get a say in what I do. You promised me that.”

“And I never said you didn’t.” Goldie turned to Ophelia, goblet in hand. “Really, raising your voice to me. What’s the matter with you today?”

Goldie stood and crossed the space to her. She put her fingers on Ophelia’s chin. Her painted nails sharpened like talons. Goldie lifted Ophelia’s head to her eye line. “Your pupils are dilated,” she muttered.

“It’s bright in here,” Ophelia lied through gritted teeth

“Then they would be retracted.” Goldie’s blue eyes pierced through Ophelia. “What did you take?”

“That’s not any of your business.”

“It is if someone is trying to poison you.”

“I am not poisoned.”

Goldie looked her over and sighed. “I am all for you...spending time, and we’ve all had our dalliances with Vista-born, I’ve had mine, ...but be careful how. --Even their words are gilded.”

Ophelia lifted a hand and pulled Goldie off her. “I’m aware.”

Goldie’s face relaxed into worry. She rolled eyes over her again. “Are you sure you’re eating enough? You have to try to eat more than just mushrooms. Is your stomach still bothering you?”

“It comes and goes.”

Goldie sighed. “I worry about you.”

“I know you do.” Ophelia looked her over.

Goldie, her mentor, her Auntie, the woman who broke down her door and pulled her from the caverns when she was on her deathbed. She was tall and muscular. Almond shaped eyes and a square jaw. Her hair was various shades of golden-blonde and brown. The softest lines of wrinkles indented in her tanned skin.

Goldie was young herself when she found Ophelia, hardly ten years older. Though her gang already had traction, it was with the adoption of Ophelia that she grew into power. At 33, Goldie was the youngest and most powerful Boss Vissereth had ever had, and had been for years.

“You are family to me, Ophelia. You always have been...and I hope I’ve been to you.”

Ophelia nodded. It was enough.

Goldie turned and went back to her lounge. She motioned for Ophelia to sit on one of the plush couches.

“The Contract is as it has always been. --I take care of you, you take care of me. That’s the deal. They give you a penthouse, I get a room. They give you a chest of coins, I get a purse from it.”

“I know.” Ophelia leaned onto the edge of the couch’s arm.

“This business is how I have always run it. They were outbid. It’s done. Money has exchanged hands.”

Ophelia lowered her head and sighed. “Fine.”

“There’s more. The new family has higher standards than the Manchester’s and expect you to dress as such. They’ve… they’ve already dropped off your new uniform.”

“Excuse me,” she snarled. Her eyes rolled up.

“They paid extra for it.”

“I don’t care if they paid extra,” Ophelia growled. “I will not wear a uniform. I am not a fucking maid.”

Goldie sighed and placed her goblet on the small table beside her lounge. She sat up. “It’s done. The terms are agreed.”

“Did you even try--”

“--watch your tone, Ophelia,” Goldie admonished. “I have been over the contract. It breaks nothing you have already agreed to.”

Ophelia clenched her fist and her jaw. She huffed and tempered her anger. “Is there anything else, I need to go pick up my dress.”

“Yes, there is.” Goldie snapped her fingers. From the hallway, a Shroom carried in a large parcel. A Seamstress-Gem followed over, too. Before Ophelia asked, Goldie answered. “She’s here to fit you for the gown.”

“What fucking gown? I have a gown.”

“Ophelia!”

She pulled her gaze from the Gem and Shroom. Betrayed eyes rolled to Goldie.

“Take it.” Goldie pointed and deflated.

Ophelia looked over to the parcel. “Do I have to,” she winced.

Goldie bit the side of her cheek, but nodded. “Yes, you do.”

She reached out and took the parcel. Laying it on her lap, she stared at it. Her hands curled and her shoulders fell.

“I am nothing, if I do not uphold my word, Ophelia. --Same as you.”

“It’s whose word, Goldie. Theirs or mine.”

Goldie’s face stilled. “Take your money.” She snapped a finger and a Shroom carried the purse back to Ophelia. It sat on top of the parcel. Untouched. Goldie’s chest rose and fell. “Now, I expect you to do your job. As I am paying you to do. Do you understand?”

She exhaled out of her nose. “Yes.”

“Good.” Goldie snapped again. The Cap that delivered the missive earlier peeled off the wall and handed another to Ophelia. “Your other job for today.”

Ophelia peeled it open. She read it then cocked a brow and peeved eye to Goldie. “I could have taken care of this hours ago, when I was by it.”

“Manchesters had priority.”

Ophelia folded the note and handed it back to the Cap. He ripped it and dropped it into the goblet of wine Goldie held out for him. His arms then grasped over themselves as he stood beside her.

“I’ll have him pick you up tomorrow around four so you can get ready here. Try to be on time. You're the only Low-Pale with a title. Don’t waste it.” Goldie waved her fingers, golden bands jumping. “Now, was there anything else you’d like to talk about?”

She humphed and turned her gaze away. Lingering on the plants in the corner, she gritted through her teeth, “stop over-watering the orchid.”

Goldie looked towards it and nodded. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ophelia jumped to her feet. She stormed towards the door. The Diggers pulled it open as she approached and closed it the second they heard the sound of Goldie’s snap.

“Ophelia,” she called from the chaise.

She glared over her shoulder. “What?”

“You are not coy. Take it.”

Ophelia turned over and looked to the package she left on the couch. She huffed and reluctantly moved back to it. Her face shifted as he clenched her jaw and glared.

“Take it,” Goldie repeated. “And stop being petulant. It is your job.”

“Your job is to keep me from having to do shit like this,” she snapped and turned.

Goldie blinked. The goblet in her hand slowly turned to gold and then crumbled in her grip as if it were made of clay. It dropped to the table. She stood. “Whatever you are angry at, be angry at, but don’t you ever take that out on me.” Her chest rose and fell. Then Goldie huffed and put a hand to her forehead. “Go, --before we say something we regret.”

Goldie snapped her fingers and the door to the penthouse opened. The Cap at her side stepped forward and ushered for Ophelia to leave. When she stood there, he blocked her view of Goldie and held a hand towards her. Ophelia looked up. His eyes motioned towards the door.

Ophelia huffed. With the parcel of her uniform, about-faced and stormed out of her penthouse, down the double-helix and all the way to her cottage, fuming and cursing.