"There is another reason I asked you here," I tell Judge. "Apart from the philosophical musings of my revenge."
"I suspected as much." He chuckles.
"I have a request to make." I clear my throat and feel oddly out of place. "I would like to invoke the sacred pact. For my wife, I would like to grant you the customary rite should anything happen to me."
"I trust that nothing will happen to you," Judge answers quietly, "but I accept your grant of the rite to me."
Some of the tension dissolves from my shoulders, and I retrieve an additional portfolio from my drawer, sliding it over to him. "My wishes are all documented there. Every last detail of what should happen to Ivy and her family in my absence."
He nods, eyes drifting to the portrait of my sister on the wall. "I am becoming quite the collector of responsibilities. First Mercedes, and now your wife."
There's a flicker of something in his gaze I don't recognize as he studies the image of Mercedes.
"For your trouble, I believe I should also leave you the bulk of my finances for agreeing to take on Mercedes in my absence," I jest.
"That won't be necessary." Judge smirks. "It would be a pleasure to tame such a wild mare."
My eyebrow arches at his insinuation, and I find it strange that he should mention Mercedes in such a way. He has always been cold to her. Respectful, but cold.
"You would have your work cut out for you," I assure him. "She is difficult, even in the best of times. I'm afraid she has become set in her spoiled ways, and now I'm not certain it can be undone."
"Anything can be undone, given a firm enough hand," Judge remarks dryly. "Should you require assistance, I am available to discipline. As you know, it is a specialty of mine, and in cases like these, it’s not uncommon to have a third party intervene. As her brother, you have a weakness for her that I don't possess. There would be no familial affection to taint my black heart."
I consider his suggestion and find it a valid argument. Mercedes is on a path of destruction and has been for some time. With Ivy in my care and my job within The Society, I have little time to devote to keeping my sister in check. It is something I can keep in mind, should she continue to cause problems.
"How is the little hellion, anyway?" Judge asks. "Still pining for Van der Smit?"
"Van der Smit?" I laugh. "I did not realize you were so informed on the matters of Mercedes's heart."
"It is widely spread gossip." He waves his hand dismissively. "Everyone in IVI has heard how he passed over the great Mercedes De La Rosa in favor of another woman. The rumor is she was quite spurned by the events."
"Yes, I suppose she was." I frown. "But Mercedes does not seem to form attachments too deeply to anyone. I think it was merely her pride that was wounded."
Judge nods as if this perspective satisfies him. "I take it she is back at the manor then?"
"For now," I concede. "She has been tasked with mentoring Ivy in her role as an upper-echelon wife. I suppose that should keep her busy for some time at least."
"Well, that's something," Judge agrees. "Idle hands are the devil's work."
"That's what they say."
There's a tap at the door, and it opens, surprising us both when it’s Mercedes herself. She moves to enter the office but pauses mid-step when she sees Judge sitting across from me.
"I didn't realize you had company." She folds her arms across her chest and glances at him curiously. "Judge, it's always a pleasure to see you."
"So you say." He dips his head in her direction, and I don't miss the way his eyes linger on her for a moment longer than what would be considered appropriate.
"How is the thrilling life of the judicial system treating you?" she asks. "Sentence any poor souls to their death over lunch today?"
"Only the ones who deserve it," he answers. "How is the life of a spoiled princess treating you? Have you left any vanity in the department stores for the other socialites?"
Storm clouds roll into her eyes, and her red lips part, speechless, for the first time in perhaps forever. She smooths a dark strand of hair from her face, attempting to gather her wits when I decide to save her from this strange interaction between them.
"What do you want, Mercedes?"
"I have returned your wife," she spits the words out venomously. "Not a hair on her head displaced, of course. And I am here to give you a full report."
Judge smiles at her obvious irritation and rises to his feet, collecting his folder from the desk. "Then I suppose I better be on my way."