Chapter 25 The Proposal
THE PROPOSAL
Rosalind
“… A
nd if you note the projected numbers on page twenty-two,” Rosalind continued, the rustle of papers filling the council chamber, “you will see our future projects, budgetary limits, and ideal dates. All of which can be adjusted per their individual proposals, which are loosely summarized in the appendix.”
A couple more rustling papers and Rosalind allowed herself the briefest glance away from the crescent-shaped table where the nine Horns sat and reviewed her proposal. Mozke, sitting in one of the rows behind Argeth, held up their open notebook for her to see.
I’m obsessed with your brain.
Rose pinched her lips together to fight the proud smile she wanted to give. It wasn’t over yet.
“And if you note our second-to-last agenda item.” A scoff sounded to her left, but she ignored it.
“The work Perennial Bloom has invested in the space is already becoming the heart of the art district. I do implore you to find some time to stroll through and see what beautiful blooms are already sprouting across the buildings. It seems the art district is just as enamored with its new apothecary as the alchemist is with his new home.”
Understatement. It was fucking thriving under Kizros’s magic, and Rose had recognized the preference for blue as she’d done her final tour.
“This is all…” Councilor Fineril, the Horn of Arbitration, nodded at the copy of Rose’s proposal before lifting her head. “Incredibly thorough.”
Not exactly reassuring, but Rose didn’t know her as well as some of the others. Argeth had spoken highly of them all—most of them—but Fineril had not come up as a demon who might vote against Rosalind’s proposal.
She already knew, of the nine, two were likely to be the strongest voices of disagreement.
The first, Tarzul, who had given up reading her packet after the first page, and Harrox, Horn of the Guard.
He had at least skimmed, flipping to the appropriate page when asked, though never showing emotion, good or bad, at what she discussed.
He was another challenge entirely.
A clapping sound filled the quiet chamber, and Rose slid her gaze to the Horn of Finance who was leaned back so far in his seat in boredom, it was a wonder he didn’t tip right over.
“Well done, human, on collecting the most useless of data for your cute little project.” Tarzul slowed his clapping, sneer replacing his sarcastic smile.
“As I tried to tell you, this was a waste of time. It’s been years since we cut funding here, and for good reason.
All of this research and data proves what a chore the upkeep of a space so small and trivial to demon society will be. ”
“A chore?” Rosalind bit back, taking the demon by surprise.
Perhaps he’d believed that something without a tail or horns would have no spine, but right now, it was all she had.
Because if she didn’t stand tall right now, she would crumble.
She would remember that two days ago, she was watching the love of her life turn his back and walk away, leaving a hole in her soul where he was always meant to fit.
“What chore is a labor of love? Of joy and happiness to oneself and to others?” She continued before he could cut her off.
“When was the last time you stepped onto those streets? Any of you?” Her gaze shifted away from Tarzul, meeting the eyes of the most important demons in Heck, even the unnerving ones of the Horn of Rudiments, who had practically draped herself over her portion of the crescent table like she was desperate to insert herself into the drama.
“There’s a palpable magic there that you’ve missed between council meetings and fundraisers and parties.
A joy in the air that can only be attributed to the demons living and working and dedicating their spare time to keeping that space alive.
Days, nights, it doesn’t matter. There’s music and life outside these walls, outside work, and it’s just as important an experience as what we’re doing here. ”
Rosalind pressed a hand to her chest, the words ringing clearer in her head than ever before.
“That place isn’t just the heart of Heck,” she whispered, maybe to the room. “It’s the soul.”
And she’d almost missed it. If Mozke hadn’t been there to drag her out of this fucking building, she never would have seen those streets. Never would have felt the joy woven into each stone of the buildings.
She never would have met Lazerath and Davarox.
Rosalind put on a smile, one that carried all her current pain but also the happiness she’d found. “A place like that is never a chore to take care of. It’s a place that should be nurtured, protected.”
The Horns were mostly silent, a few ducking their heads to return to their papers while some simply sat back with her words. It was hard not to squirm where she stood, but in her periphery, she caught the proud smile of the Horn of Culture.
So maybe if nothing more came from this, she’d at least earned Argeth’s respect.
Though she had a sneaking suspicion she’d already gotten it.
“Well,” Fineril began, turning to the next page in the packet without prompt. “You mentioned a final point?”
Most demons in the room turned their pages as well, though predictably, the male who hadn’t opened the proposal once had the loudest voice.
“I’m afraid no further point will convince me to vote anything but against this project,” Tarzul said, pushing his chair back. “Thank you for wasting my time—”
“One moment, please,” Fineril said, holding a golden-flecked finger up in his direction.
A vein popped in Tarzul’s forehead at the dismissal, but then his eyes darted to the other councilors who had their noses all but pressed against the last pages in Rose’s proposal.
Confusion pinched his brow as he looked across the room at the only two demons not reviewing Rosalind’s last point.
Argeth, who had helped her craft the motion.
And Harrox, the Horn of the Guard, who had signed off that morning.
Tarzul’s skin lost a little color as he looked away from the retired warrior, bouncing back to the other councilors who were either still shuffling through the papers or slowly turning their glares toward the Horn of Finance.
“What?” Tarzul frowned, then dove for the packet he’d failed to review, whipping through the documents trying to find what had caused the shift in the room.
“My final point,” Rosalind said over his frantic shuffling, “is unrelated to my proposal.”
She knew the moment he found the first page—a long list of his funding delays and roundabout laws that had directly impacted the human contracts in Heck, including the clause that would have put Aofe in harm’s way if Kizros hadn’t taken his complaint to his father.
Something Rose hadn’t expected to be the driving change for the other Horns but enticing enough to get them to flip to the next page.
Where handwriting samples matched one forgery.
Then the next. Then the next. Diagrams of bylaws referencing texts that never existed or pointed back in a loop.
Receipts and forgeries, including those he’d used to pin the blame on his nephew, proving that the Horn of Finance was skimming off the top of every department in Heck.
For what? Rosalind hadn’t been able to get that close, but that wasn’t up to her to find out now. She’d gotten her evidence.
The side door in the chamber opened, and a terrifying giant purple demon with spikes entered, followed closely by three other bodies, one which filled Rosalind with knee-shaking relief.
Kalypso wore a smug smile as she trailed Ozirax, the male warrior clapping a hand down on Tarzul’s shoulder before shoving him back in his seat.
The Horn of Rudiments cackled with glee.
“It seems,” Argeth said, inspecting his claws, “we are in need of a vote on the human’s final point.” He shot her a wink. “Rosalind’s motion to dismiss the Horn of Finance and have him arrested under charges of fraud, manipulation—”
“Please don’t read this entire list,” Fineril groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The first is plenty to have him arrested. The rest will be read at his tribunal.”
Tarzul’s eyes nearly bulged from his face. “You can’t be serious.” He squeaked as Ozirax hauled him to his feet. “You’re taking this human’s word? These are all forgeries! Lies!”
His last word became a whimper as Ozirax flared his forearm spikes under the Horn’s chin. “Please, resist arrest. Spicy likes a little violence as foreplay.”
Rosalind blinked, realizing Kalypso was the one being referenced, not the giant red female or the equally large gold male warriors standing a few feet back.
“This isn’t over,” Tarzul growled as he was hauled back.
His finger lifted, presumably to point where his glare pinned Rosalind to the spot, but then a snapping sound echoed in the chamber.
Tarzul let out a howl before cradling his broken finger to his chest, but he seemed to know better than to say anything as Kalypso returned her arms to her sides, like breaking a demon’s finger was the most boring thing she’d done all day.
Chatter erupted as the former Horn of Finance was led out of the chamber. Rosalind hadn’t really expected that much drama, but now she was grateful Harrox had the forethought to prepare guards outside the door for this moment.
“You good?”
Rosalind startled as Kalypso appeared at her side.
“Oh, sure, yeah. Normal politics stuff.” Her voice was an octave too high, but she smothered it with a smile.
Apparently it wasn’t convincing as Kalypso’s mismatched eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t talking about that bastard.”
Rosalind tilted her chin up, suddenly wondering if she’d gotten the violent woman all wrong. “I thought you wanted to be the one to drag him out kicking and screaming?”
“The porcupine was starting to get on my nerves. His ego needed it more.”
“He does look like a porcupine,” Rosalind muttered, which made Kalypso smile, and that was also surprising.