Olaree was a snob town. It was full of posh buildings and fancy sidewalks and rich people. There was to be a welcome dinner for the players that night. Lex’s ship arrived several hours before Jeremiah’s and, within half an hour, people had left a veritable forest of flowers on the dock beside his boat. Some of the bouquets were quite frighteningly huge and elaborate. Clearly the rich people of Olaree subscribed to the belief that nothing says ‘sorry your friend is dead’ quite like a spray-painted silver fir-cone. There was even one particularly inventive flower arrangement in the shape of a cowboy hat.
‘Why are they making such a fuss about it?’ Lex asked, peering out at the harbour from a corner of the window in his room. ‘People die in Games all the time.’
‘It’s several things, dear,’ Lady Luck replied. ‘It’s partly the fact that Jesse is so good looking, in a rough-and- ready kind of way; it’s partly that he died heroically saving a child’s life rather than merely trying to win the Game; it’s partly that Tess East is such a sweet-looking thing and so everyone wanted Jesse to save her; and it’s partly that you’re a young boy, now playing the dangerous Game all alone. People love all that.’
‘They’re a fickle bunch,’ Lex replied, remembering how they had all cheered and cheered for Jeremiah before they decided they hated him.
‘Yes, dear.’
‘Well, at least it makes it easier for me to cheat and rob them.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Before leaving the ship for the welcome dinner that evening, Lex went to his wardrobe and picked an outfit that was entirely black. He was supposed to be in mourning, after all. He’d always had naturally pale skin and this was emphasised even more by the dark clothes. As a finishing touch he rubbed a small amount of shampoo into his eyes. It stung like hell but, after half an hour, they stopped streaming and merely looked a little bloodshot? like the eyes of someone who hasn’t slept a wink the night before because they’ve been up all night wringing their hands over their fallen comrade. Before leaving the ship, Lex sternly warned Jesse to stay well out of sight, away from the windows, and not to go anywhere near the deck.
The Majestic Hotel was not far from the dock but they had sent a carriage, anyway. Lex was extremely pleased with the hotel from the outset. It was the sort of place that had chandeliers, and desserts fashioned in the shape of swans, and waiters wearing spotless gloves. It was the most decadent, luxurious hotel Lex had ever seen. It was the sort of place that suited him. He was made for fancy hotels, not grubby farms. But he was careful not to allow any of his pleasure to show on his face, for he had a moping part to play tonight. Indeed, to anyone who saw him, Lex Trent had the look of a person who hardly knew where he was and didn’t care either.
He was aware of people shooting sympathetic glances his way as he followed the porter through the sumptuous lobby to the reception desk. And then? quite perfectly? when he gave his name, the man behind the desk replied instantly, ‘Ah, yes. Welcome to the Majestic, Mr Trent. We have a suite reserved for you and your companion on the top floor. Will Mr Layton be joining you shortly, sir?’
Everyone? but everyone? in Olaree knew that Jesse was tragically dead. Everyone, it seemed, but this man. The people milling about within earshot gasped at the dreadful, awful, unforgivable faux pas and shot anxious glances at Lex. Seizing the moment, Lex willed the colour to drain from his face (a trick he had taught himself some while ago, along with blushing). He swallowed hard and allowed a tremor to creep into his voice as he said, ‘Jesse… Mr Layton.. won’t be joining me shortly. Or ever. He’s dead.’
‘Oh, you poor dear!’ exclaimed an enormously fat woman nearby who was wearing a lot of lace and the largest floppy hat that Lex had ever seen. She turned a withering glare on the unfortunate receptionist and said, ‘It’s too dreadful of you, really it is! I never dreamt that any staff of the Majestic could be so insensitive! Don’t you know that this poor boy’s companion lost his life saving a little girl in the last round?’ She was practically quivering with outrage.
The receptionist looked horrified and hastily started apologising. Within seconds, an important-looking manager was bearing down on them all. When he realised what the problem was he dismissed the receptionist on the spot.
Quite a little crowd had gathered around them by this point so Lex took the opportunity to say gravely, ‘Please, sir, as a special favour to me, do not dismiss this man. Jesse wouldn’t… He wouldn’t have wanted that.’ Cripes, he could practically feel the swell of almost ferocious approval emanating from the people around him.
The receptionist was ushered away but the manager assured Lex that he would be allowed to keep his job. Then the manager himself took Lex’s bag and escorted him across the lobby to the elevator, during which time Lex had a grand total of three lace handkerchiefs pressed into his hand by women who seemed completely intent on comforting him, despite the fact that he wasn’t actually crying. Of course, if Lex had been playing any part but himself then he would have been wailing his head off by now, but he wasn’t acting a part as the Shadowman or the Wizard or Trent Lexington. He was? technically, at least? being Lex Trent. And, although he certainly wanted people underestimating him, he didn’t really want them believing him to be a weakling who couldn’t keep his emotions under control.
So he accepted the handkerchiefs gracefully, for all that he didn’t need them, and followed the manager to the elevator with a grim look, as if he was counting the seconds until he could finally be alone.
Even the elevator was a ridiculously posh affair, with a uniformed bellman and everything? because, naturally, it wouldn’t do to have the guests pushing their own buttons. The manager told Lex that he had been given the largest suite the hotel had. Lex smirked inwardly at the thought of what Jeremiah and Lorella would say when they heard about that. Even when he was losing, Lex was winning. And that took a really very special kind of skill.
When they reached the thirteenth floor at the top of the hotel, the manager took Lex to the door? the only one, in fact, on that floor? unlocked it and stepped aside for Lex to enter.
It took all of Lex’s self control not to react. Never in his entire life had he seen anything so splendidly luxurious. The suite was huge. The living room area was all polished wood, with a grand ornate fireplace and big, solid armchairs that looked as if they’d never been used before. A massive fruit basket, piled high with a veritable mountain of colourful fruits, sat on the gleaming coffee table. Nothing says ‘sorry your friend is dead’ like a bunch of ripe bananas…
‘Is it to your liking, sir?’ the manager asked.
‘It’s fine, thank you.’
‘The bathroom is through the door to your right. And on the left are the bedrooms…’ The manager trailed off apologetically for, of course, the second bedroom was now to remain unoccupied.
Lex turned his head away and clenched his teeth to make a muscle twitch in his jaw, as if he was struggling to contain his emotion.
‘I expect you’d like to be left alone now,’ the manager said hurriedly. ‘The entire top floor is devoted to this suite, so rest assured you won’t be bothered by anyone. And if there is anything that I, or anyone else in the hotel, can do for you, Mr Trent, day or night, then please don’t hesitate to let us know.’
‘You’re very kind,’ Lex replied.
The manager put down Lex’s suitcase and left the room, quietly drawing the door closed behind him. Lex crossed over and locked it, then waited until he heard the elevator doors slide shut. Only then did he allow a wide grin to spread across his face. He rushed into the bathroom and goggled at the bath, which was practically big enough to swim in. Then he ran to check out the bedrooms. Both had grand four-poster beds with chocolate mints on the pillows, little fridges that were stuffed full of complimentary drinks and snacks, and even a strange-looking thing that Lex assumed must be a trouser press. There was also a liquor trolley, complete with crystal-cut tumblers and a bucket of ice. If Lex had been a drinking man he would have poured himself a celebratory drink but, as he wasn’t, he made do with a celebratory bubble bath.
Lex loved baths and soap and being clean. So if there was a big bathtub going free then Lex was always likely to get in it and stay put well past the time that his fingers got all crinkly. He didn’t even care if it was a bit of a girly habit. He liked baths? if they had bubbles in ’em as well then so much the better? and he wasn’t going to apologise for it.
