Masquerade [Kuskovo Estate]

[Jaxen Marveet]

 

Cyrena & Tarik Marveet

Tarik returned to the party with his nerves dulled and his mood significantly improved, thanks to whatever Guillaume had slipped him. He’d made a vague promise to meet up with the Volthstrom heir at some unspecified point in the future—what for, he wasn’t sure. But keeping a Volthstrom in his back pocket was simply good strategy. He doubted anyone at this glitzy charade of a party had any idea that the heir to the infamous family was walking among them, utterly anonymous. That little nugget of knowledge alone had been worth enduring the endless speeches and forced pleasantries.

Spotting Cyrena, he sauntered over to her and claimed a spot within easy sight of their father. Not close enough to attract his attention, but not too far to suggest they were hiding. A perfect balance—just the right level of filial respect to keep the old man appeased.

As the announcement of their father’s appointment was met with applause, Tarik and Cyrena joined in, their claps slow and laced with a shared sense of amusement. The kind that only siblings with years of navigating their father’s ego could pull off.

“He’ll be insufferable now,” Cyrena muttered under her breath, her tone flat but her smirk betraying her irritation.

Tarik chuckled, leaning just close enough to nudge her shoulder. “Now? As opposed to what, yesterday?”

She snorted, but before she could respond, Tarik’s attention shifted. Across the room, standing near their father, was a figure that caught his eye. The woman was pretty, almost absurdly young to hold a position as significant as Privilege. Her polished presence practically screamed ambition, and yet, the subtle tension in her posture hinted at someone keenly aware of the sharks circling her.

“Who the hell is Jessika Thrice?” Tarik asked, leaning toward Cyrena. His tone carried the sharp curiosity of someone who wasn’t just asking for information, but already working angles in his head.

Cyrena turned her head sharply, her annoyance flashing as if it physically pained her to explain. “Don’t you pay attention to anything in American politics?”

“What the hell for?” Tarik countered, his expression one of mock incredulity.

Cyrena rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “She’s the president—or whatever they call it—of that cowboy state.”

“California?” Tarik asked, half-impressed.

Cyrena gave him a look so scathing it could’ve peeled paint off the walls. “California?! Who the hell calls California the cowboy state?”

Tarik shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, in the movies, the cowboys are in California. The Old West. California is in the west.” He gestured with his hands as if that made his logic infallible.

Cyrena groaned, rubbing her temples. “No, dumbass. Texas. She was over Texas.” Her tone had shifted to one of absolute disdain, and Tarik could practically see her filing Jessika into her mental list of people to hate on principle.

“Texas,” Tarik echoed, nodding slowly as if that somehow explained everything. His gaze drifted back to Jessika, already working on ways to unravel the mystery. “So she went from running Texas to Privilege? That’s quite the jump.”[/color]

Cyrena scoffed. “Probably kissed all the right asses along the way.” She crossed her arms tighter, her expression set in irritation as she studied Jessika from a distance.

“Either way,” Tarik said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “She’s interesting.”

Cyrena’s head whipped toward him, her brow furrowing. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re about to go all ‘strategic alliance’ on her. You’ve got that look.”

Tarik smirked, unrepentant. “What look?”

“The one where you think you can charm your way into something you have no business getting involved in,” she snapped, her tone equal parts exasperated and knowing.

He leaned back, his hands sliding into his pockets as his gaze lingered on Jessika. “She’s young, ambitious, probably drowning in sharks right now. She’ll need someone who can keep her afloat.” His smirk widened. “And I can think of no better lifeguard than me.”

Cyrena let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” Tarik replied with a shrug. “But she’s not in the Sphere because she’s stupid. If she’s already managed to climb this far, then there’s a story there. A story I’d like to know.”

“And then what?” Cyrena challenged, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ll make her your new best friend?”

“Maybe,” he said, flashing her a grin. “Or maybe she’ll make a better lay than an enemy.”