Chapter Nine A Perilous Proposal #2
“Do you fear their power?” another reporter asked.
“Their power is no match for a bullet,” Richard said, “and thanks to the Council, I have plenty of bullets.”
He laughed, as though the thought of killing an entire group of people was amusing. The sound struck Poppy like a shovel full of grave dirt—not least of all because she was one of those people whose hypothetical deaths he found so amusing.
Richard didn’t know her secret. No one did, not even Catherine.
Poppy had discovered it accidentally, at age thirteen, while waiting for the bathtub to fill.
In a fit of impatience, she’d wished the water would come out of the tap faster—and for a split second, it did, surging with such intensity, the tap snapped clean off.
Immediately, a wave of dizziness had struck Poppy.
She’d staggered, her limbs weak and heavy, and the flow had returned to normal.
The plumber claimed the tap was old and faulty, and no one was the wiser.
It hadn’t taken a genius to connect the freak accident with the stories Nanny had told.
But none of Nanny’s bedtime stories had mentioned such a drastic physical toll, and Poppy had no one to ask about it, either.
This was the only thing she’d inherited from her birth parents, and they were no longer around to explain how it worked.
Her adoptive mother could help her get fitted for a brassiere and explain her first blood to her, but this? Poppy was on her own.
No one could ever know Poppy was an unnatural, supposedly blessed by the same false gods that the Founder had replaced.
Especially not Richard. Poppy repressed a shudder as his laugh echoed around her, grating against her skin.
Breathe, she reminded herself. The cameras were still trained on her, one shot away from scandal at any point in time.
Besides, he wouldn’t find out, she reasoned.
The only way to prove such an allegation was for someone to catch her using her power, and she never would.
But still, Poppy wondered: If Richard found out about her powers, would he truly harm her?
He was such a tender and sensitive suitor.
Could he turn his gun on her? Would he really fire?
“No more questions,” Richard announced with a clap of his hands, pulling her out of her reverie. “We’ll take some last photographs, and then my fiancée and I would like some privacy.”
After the photographers had gotten their fill of photos, Poppy turned to stare at the building—her building—once more.
She let herself imagine what it would look like when the renovations were done and it was full of children.
Orphans. Orphans like her. Orphans whose blood might harbor a power no one could ever—no. Poppy yanked her thoughts back.
Richard took her hand and pulled her to face him instead of the building.
“This is only the beginning of what we can achieve together, Poppy,” he said, his words low and private.
“When we’re married, you can open more homes.
I want you to be a part of my office, as part of a new philanthropic effort I wish to bring to the viceroy’s role, and help me take care of the vulnerable.
I knew homeless orphans must be a cause close to your heart, so I started with this.
I thought it would be a fitting testament to your roots. ”
Poppy’s heart tightened to hear Richard’s words, an echo of the thoughts that had just been running through her mind.
Perhaps it had only been a few weeks, but he already seemed to know the essence of her.
She gazed at the orphanage in the drawing again, recalling the child beggars she’d seen around Marnapur since her return.
Her father had given her a home when he had taken her off the streets, and now, with the tools Richard was giving her, she could give that same opportunity to others.
“Thank you,” Poppy whispered. “It’s perfect.”
Richard took the folder back and closed it. “We can talk more about it once we’re married,” he promised. “For now, though, I would have you turn your attention to our engagement party.”
“Of course.” Event planning had been a part of the curriculum at Thornhaven.
Though she’d been uncomfortable with having the spotlight on her as hostess, she’d had to learn.
A lady was judged by the quality of events that she hosted, from the splendor of the decorations to the taste of the food to the caliber of the entertainment.
This would be Poppy’s chance to prove to the nobility that she was not only one of them but better than most of them.
Determination filled her, overshadowing her unease.
“I’ll plan everything. It will be a perfect evening, I promise. ”
“I know it will,” he said, squeezing her hand, “because you’ll be there.”
Poppy looked away, falling easily into the act of blushing fiancée. “I fear you are too kind.”
“Every man should aspire to kindness where his future wife is concerned,” Richard said. “Shall we head off? I told your parents you’d be home for dinner, and a promise is a promise.”
With one last glance at the orphanage, Poppy let Richard lead her back to his car. She didn’t let herself think about what would happen if Richard learned about her unnatural power. Instead, she forced herself to focus on all the ways the future would be better.