Chapter 4

“How’d you dare to tell me that I’m my father’s son,
when that was just an accident of birth?
I’d rather look around me, compose a better song.
Cause that’s the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory, you’re a poorer man than me,
as you lick the boots of Death, borne out of fear.”
-Jethro Tull, “Wind-Up“

I left Maria and Jeanne to the decorating and went to prepare for meeting them and everyone else in

Helen’s Study soon. (I figure hey, used to be a war room, probably a secure place to talk. Especially since the Ministry of Intelligence sweeps it for bugs at random intervals.) There was another stop I felt the need to make.

The Nursery had been a storage room since Little Maria had been the last San Finzione baby to need one and nobody thought it would be needed again until any future children she might have. Clearing it out and giving it a makeover for the twins’ use was a project that Julie and Helen took care of while it was Julie’s turn on Helen’s Nic Fit Detail. I helped a little, but mostly watched; because I got to see what the two of

THEM look like when they’re working on a project together.

Troy and Julie discovered the secret of mind control at the age of ten. You know those “hypnotize your friends” and “secrets of mind control” books they used to sell out of the backs of comics that always turned out to be bullshit? Did you ever know any kids who seriously bought and read those books? And anything else they could find on the subject until one day, they read between enough lines to put together how to do it for real? Yeah, they were those kids; you know, the typical American Boy & Girl Next Door like that.

And Helen was their typical Friend A Few Houses Down Who Was Both of Their First Girlfriend That They Taught

It to Keep Her Evil Dad from Murdering Her. The classic story. And then they continued to do everything together for the next seventeen years until realizing that there’s probably a reason that they’ve always worked so well together.

Watching Troy and Julie work on something together is like watching a ballet. They’re so in-tune with each other that they can anticipate what the other is going to want or need and have it ready to hand to them before they ask. Knowing Julie and Helen separately, you’d think that watching the two of them take on a project would be like an issue of Archie Comics where all the girls in Riverdale are in some race or competition to win a date with Archie at the fanciest restaurant in town, and they have to work in pairs. But only one lucky girl can win; and naturally, Betty and Veronica have been assigned to work together. So, they’re forced to team up, but one of them MUST be the eventual winner, so they’ll be sabotaging each other throughout; only to break into an argument right in front of the finish line about which of them deserves to cross it first, so Cheryl Blossom crosses the finish line while they’re still arguing. And it ends with the two of them walking away and talking shit about Cheryl and why were we fighting, anyway? (Lucinda’s not the only one who reads the Classics around here!)

Unlike Betty and Veronica, however, Julie and Helen aren’t suppressing how much they really want to just stop playing Society’s Sick Little Game of fighting over Archie and rip each other’s clothes off already.

It turns out Archie’s totally down with a three-way and everyone wins. So, watching the two of them work, you’ll get those little moments of trying to undercut one another, but their “go have angry lesbian sex, remember that I’ve loved you my entire life and that probably you’re right, and get back to it” solution is a lot more effective than anything they come up with in the comics. They get a lot done this way; it’s about average with their “let’s get this thing done, THEN fuck” method when working with Troy.

As a result, the room looks like what you’d expect if the world’s richest expectant mother gave the world’s best artist unlimited funds to design a nursery for her sons who, because of whom their father and the artist are, happen to be her own sons as well. The blue of the walls and ceiling were that same blue that the sky overhead would be if they were outside on a typical day. And just like on a typical day outdoors, the thing that Helen calls “All-powerful Athiesmo” might just decide to make the real clouds outside look almost like real duckies and bunnies for them, because they’re just that special. (And yes, one of the clouds DOES almost look like James Bond’s silhouette watching over them. That one’s for Daddy. There’s an original

Enterprise, Sir Alec Guinness’ Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Warren Zevon somewhere in those clouds, too. Propappou and the Count too, naturally.) It worked well with the carpet; which being where the heirs to La Familia Royale will learn to crawl and play, was naturally Emerald Green, the royal color of San Finzione. I nodded to one of the nannies while walking through a zoo’s worth of stuffed animals that, if they’d been real, probably would have slaughtered each other. These ones, however, were cuddly fluff friends everywhere you looked.

Vincenzo and Byroni weren’t quite ready for that floor and all those other friends just yet. Another nanny who was at the crib motioned over that they were awake and ok for visitors. I walked over to the crib and looked down at them. They stared back up, taking in the blue sky and clouds overhead. Their matching onesies had arrows pointing at each other, and the Italian phrase on both translated to “Don’t tell that one

I’m Mamma’s favorite.”

“Hey, Little Boys.” I said to them. “How’s this whole ‘world’ thing working out for ya? Seen anything cool yet?”

Byroni burbled at that. It seemed like a positive one. I turned on the mobile over their heads.

Birdies gently lit up and started rotating over their heads as a music-box version of “Mr. Bad Example“ began to play. I picked him up and held him for a few moments. When it looked like he was about to start fussing, I put him back down with his brother, and he stopped. I figured Vincenzo would probably do the same, so I just gently tickled his little tummy a bit.

My mind drifted back to the idea that Lucinda had something evil planned for them and my difficulty with the concept of a human being capable of having anything evil in mind regarding these two. That thought begat another. I looked back down at the twins. We don’t think it would work on them, and we all swore to never even try it on the kids before they were born.

“Everything I’m about to say,” I told them. “None of it is to you, ok? Ok.” I looked at the four nannies in the room and made certain myself that what I was about to do was absolutely directed at them and not the boys.

“Raise your hand if anyone’s recording.” I commanded them in Italian. None of them did.

I didn’t just make Lucinda tell me what she’s up to because I suspected there was a reason that Helen just doesn’t do that all the time. The Thing doesn’t transmit digitally, so we can’t give someone a command over the phone or on a video call. After the stuff that happened to us last year when someone figured that out, my suspicion was that Lucinda might be creepy and paranoid enough to constantly record herself and all her interactions with Helen; then have someone watch it to see if Helen did anything and made her forget. Or, as was the case that other time, she might only suspect that Helen has strange powers, and her goal is to get it on tape. (A problem that Helen’s encountered in the past is that someone who believes in demons and witchcraft will take the sort of precautions AGAINST demons and witchcraft that, unfortunately ALSO work pretty well against mind control that has nothing to do with demons or witchcraft.) Helen’s enemies always want to prove or disprove the legends before anything else.

I had to think a second on how to phrase my next command. An important part of this is understanding, yourself, what you’re trying to convey. It’s why, if Troy commands someone to “give him a hand,” that person’s not going to applaud or chop off their hand and give it to Troy, they’re going to help him. Asking if they’re spying for Lucinda would be the wrong question, because that would be much more subject to interpretation. Lucinda might get information from them in less direct ways. Likewise, asking if she’s paying any of them would be the wrong question, because she may reward them in other ways than money. There was no doubt in my mind that she was one of those “my thoughts and prayers go out to the poor victims” people.

A kind word at a funeral, a promise to pray for someone a while back might be payment enough to tell their

“good friend Lucinda” about what it’s like working with the twins; and oh, by the way, how’s La Contessa dealing with them all by herself?

“Raise your hand if you think of Lucinda de San Finzione as more than a casual acquaintance. Beyond simply bumping into her as you go about the castle, I mean.” One hand raised. The woman it belonged to was named Estella. I’d gotten to know the nannies that well at least in the past month.

“Estella, come out to the hall with me.” I told her. “The rest of you, forget we had this conversation and go about your duties.”

Estella walked out with me while the others saw to the boys.

Even the San Finziones of Old got the idea that they might’ve made Castle Finzione too big. It had always been meant as a stronghold for the people in times of war. That’s why, despite the fact that La

Familia Royale are in residence, its proper name is still Castle Finzione, as opposed to Finzione Palace.

Back when the country only held a few thousand people, the early Counts were planning for the longer- term and the possibility of having to house a country of many more people during a long siege. Getting around such a huge place had been an afterthought, so they’d done their best by providing little alcoves with chairs and couches throughout the halls. There was one of those outside the Nursery, so it was a good place for me to bring Estella and sit down on one of the couches.

“Have I done something wrong, Signorina Bailey?” Estella asked nervously. She knew I was a friend of

Helen and Maria’s, and I could see that she didn’t know what to expect next except that it would be something bad.

I smiled, shook my head, and sat down next to her.

“No, Estella.” I assured her. “Not at all. I just want to talk. How do you know Lucinda? Be honest.” I added the command at the end.

“At the cathedral. We have talked before and after Mass. She knows I work at the castle and has let me sit with her for the service before.”

I nodded. Lucinda probably has whatever the church equivalent of a Sky Box is at St. Francis de Sales

Cathedral. It was the kind of nice gesture that would be certain to impress Estella, make her willing to answer some questions about work that might seem odd, but never mind that, dear. Have a little wine, it’s ok, you’re with me. Now, about La Contessa and the babies ... I started wondering if that Sky Box might be made of gingerbread.

“I’d imagine she gets the really good seats, Estella. She’s a strong, powerful woman; and I understand how overwhelming it can be for someone like yourself, going from doing things like watching television to sitting with someone like Lucinda de San Finzione at Mass.” (Or going from being constantly beaten and scared to being loved by two of the most powerful people in the world who think you’re worthy of sharing their power, even after what Julie thought happened the last time.) I gently took hold of her hand.