"The castle doesn't need a new heating system," Ethan said, his voice firm.
Lolita crossed her arms. "My bedroom is like an icebox. I can see my breath in the mornings." She dropped into a pink, cushioned chair with theatrical flair. The delicate porcelain teacups on the table between them clinked softly against their saucers.
Behind James's chair, bookcases stuffed with government files lined the walls, their spines pressed against faded brown wallpaper.
"What we need," Ethan continued, "is proper road infrastructure. Half of Intermarium's roads are dirt paths." He turned to his father. "Dad, remind me—what's our construction budget this year?"
James didn't look up from his papers. "Forty million."
"Forty million?" Ethan's eyebrows shot up. "That's barely enough to pave the main highway."
"It's what we have." James finally met his son's eyes. "The debt crisis takes priority. Every dollar we spend on luxury"—he glanced meaningfully at Lolita—"is a dollar we can't spend on keeping this country solvent."
Lolita's voice rose to a whine. "A hot shower isn't a luxury, Dad. It's basic human decency!"
"Tell that to the families in the outer provinces who don't have running water at all." James's tone was ice-cold. "You have no idea how fortunate you are."
"Oh, please." Lolita rolled her eyes dramatically. "This castle is falling apart. We need renovations. A sauna. A proper spa room. When Renee Clinton visited last month, I was mortified by what she must have thought of our accommodations."
"Renee Clinton rules a nation with three times our GDP," James said quietly. "We're not competing with her.'
"We should be!" Lolita shot back. "A ruler's image matters. We look like-"
"We look like responsible leaders who care more about their people than their personal comfort," Ethan interrupted. "I'm meeting with the architects tomorrow about the road project."
"No!" Lolita's voice cracked like a whip. "Why should peasants get better roads when I can't even take a decent shower?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Ethan's voice turned dangerous. "Did you just call our citizens peasants?"
"I—that's not what I meant-"
"You sound exactly like your mother." Each word was precise, cutting. "Selfish. Entitled. Completely disconnected from reality."
"Don't you dare compare me to her!" Lolita's eyes flashed. "Charlotte wasn't selfish—she was misunderstood!"
"Misunderstood?" Ethan let out a bitter laugh. "Is that what we're calling drug addiction now? I was fourteen when I found her unconscious in the bathroom, Lolita. Fourteen. You were too young to remember, but I wasn't."
"Your mother, Leslie, was a bitch," Lolita snapped, her voice venomous. "I remember when she lived with us and took away my cell phone for six months! I had no social life."
"That was after you went on social media and called me a pervert! You're always lying about me," Ethan protested.
"No, I'm not. I remember when you spied on me naked in the bathroom!" Lolita's eyes narrowed.
"Enough of this bickering!" James rose from his chair. "I need to call Robin and invite him to my birthday party."
"Which reminds me, I have to go to Gem Mall to buy a new dress!" Lolita said.
The maid entered the room. "Ethan, Maxwell is here to see you."
"Great!" Ethan beamed and rose from his chair to leave the common room. He exited the Victorian-style castle's grand entrance door. The sun shone on the beautiful garden of red and white roses, with hedges manicured to perfection—not a branch out of place. Maxwell stood by the security guard.
"Maxwell, it's good to see you!" Ethan hugged Maxwell. "Come inside, we can play pool."
Maxwell nodded and followed Ethan down the hallway into the recreation room. "Do you want anything to drink?" Ethan asked.
"A ginger ale will be fine," Maxwell said.
"Alina, can you please get me a lemonade and our guest a ginger ale?"
Ethan asked the maid.
Alina nodded and left the room.
Maxwell said, "I know your father is old-fashioned from the antiques he likes to collect." He glanced at the bookcase full of books about Intermarium's history against the russet-painted walls.
Ethan grabbed the rack off the pool table and placed it on the counter. "Intermarium is an outdated country. We need to become an industrial society. Change is needed for us to become powerful."
Maxwell's facial expression was hard as he processed the reality of Ethan's announcement. "What do you recommend, then?"
Ethan grabbed the white ball and aimed at the tightly packed triangle of balls. The balls scattered across the table, but none dropped into the pockets. "Damn it. I missed." He swore under his breath, his blue eyes meeting Maxwell's green eyes. "We need to cut costs at our metal press factories by laying off workers."
Maxwell's mouth dropped open. "Cuts? Thousands of employees will lose their jobs. They depend on their benefits for their medical needs."
"Unfortunately," Ethan said with a shrug, "we have no choice. Our factories are bleeding money because our production costs are too high. Your turn."
Maxwell's expression went flat. "My brother works at one of those factories. I don't want him to lose his job."
Ethan smiled and placed a reassuring hand on Maxwell's back. "Don't worry. You know me—I'll make sure he's protected."
"Really?" Maxwell's face brightened. "Just for me?"
Ethan chuckled. "How long have we been friends? Since high school, right? You worry too much. Take your shot."
Maxwell nodded and lined up the cue ball with a striped ball. With a sharp crack, the ball sank into the corner pocket.
"Damn it! You're destroying me at this game."
Alina entered the room, set their drinks on the table, and quietly left.
Ethan grabbed his glass and downed it quickly. "Lolita loves spreading rumours about me—most of them complete lies. She's such a motherfucking drama queen." Ethan seethed. He slammed his glass on the table, hoping to win a reaction from Maxwell.
Maxwell grabbed his drink, taking a slow sip. "I think she just does it for attention."
"She already gets enough attention." Ethan grabbed a magazine from the bookcase. "Look at this."
Maxwell glanced at the magazine's front cover. Lolita smiled back at them, wearing a pale pink dress, but something caught his eye. "What's she holding?"
Ethan snorted. "Doesn't matter. She's only in the picture because the company wants to cash in on her celebrity status." Maxwell returned to the pool table and grabbed his cue from the edge.
"Did you know Lolita's mother worked as a prostitute? The only reason she got pregnant was that she knew James ruled Intermarium. Otherwise, she never would've had kids."
"How do you know this?" Maxwell raised an eyebrow.
"Because my father invited her to live with us—he'd never let his progeny starve on the streets. A nanny looked after Lolita while Charlotte spent all her time partying and drinking. My life was perfect until they showed up."
"Speaking of people from the past, do you remember Axel Wilson from high school?"
"Goddamn it!" Ethan screeched as a striped ball sank into the hole. "Axel's a cunt. I lost count of how many times he got suspended for picking fights."
Maxwell scoffed. "From what I've heard, he's changed and is an accountant."
"Only got the job because of his father."
"How do you know his father, Chris Wilson?"
"My father, Jason, is—the mayor of Kip-ford—sometimes meets with Chris. Chris always requests more funding for the city. Whether that money goes to the city or straight into his pocket? That's anyone's guess."
Maxwell sighed. "Chris thinks he's underpaid as mayor."
"Oh, give me a break." Ethan snorted. "He makes almost as much as my father. Doesn't he realize he's in a third-world country? He can't compare his salary to mayors in first-world cities."
"I just hope the economic situation improves."
"Me too." Ethan and Maxwell kept playing pool until midnight.