Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

John, Jean, and Gian

Having just returned to the safety and privacy of the sprawling mountainside villa where she, her daughter, and her daughter's gravely injured boyfriend have relocated in the wake of the attack, Rheda Selwyn now takes a few moments to collect herself in the privacy of a locked bathroom.

With her long, ivory fingers wrapped around the edge of the wash basin, she stares at her pretty reflection through cold, tired eyes. A light breeze wafts through an open window, causing a few flyaway strands of her long, pale hair to tickle her cheeks as she continues to study herself thoughtfully.

What a mess.

What an unbelievable, unwelcome mess.

She's just returned from a gruelling press conference, her third such meeting of the day and it's only just past noon. A despised undertaking, meeting with reporters, but something she accepts as a necessary evil. It's her attempt to get ahead of The Daily Prophet and the other dozen or so wizarding newspapers and tabloids currently hounding her and family here on this tiny rocky island. But massive headache or not, she knows it's vitally important; she knows she must gain complete control of the narrative in order to protect not just their reputation but also her and her daughter's coveted privacy.

And, of course, on behalf of the Lovegoods, who possess not even one iota of the resources, the cunning, the clout that I do;

- Though lovely people as they may be -

... They're simply not of our world.

The wizarding world, certainly -

I'm not talking about that world;

I'm talking about our world-within-a-world.

And in that way, no, the Lovegoods don't know the meaning of high stakes;

They've no idea what they're actually dealing with here.

But me?

I certainly do.

Sighing at her tired reflection, she mentally girds herself to face the world once more, leaning forward and splashing a bit of cool water against her neck, her wrists, so as to relieve her from the decidedly more extreme Mediterranean afternoon.

Stupid bloody gown;

Completely impractical in this climate!

She's too used to wearing dresses now to truly get hung up on it the way she once did, but it still does secretly chaff her, secretly stokes an unspoken inner rage.

Resisting the urge to scream, she instead straightens up and nods confidently at her reflection, running her hands down the front of her dress one final time before turning and stalking out of the bathroom. Shoulders held high, she turns a corner and begins making her way down a long, breezy hallway, all the windows here thrown fully open to allow the air to circulate.

She turns another corner and stops short, completely stunned at the sight of the person she's met with, though she hides her shock well enough. Clearing her throat, she tips her head stiffly towards the person now staring eagerly back at her, her voice decidedly cold, her greeting rather rudely direct, "... You."

Taking it in stride, he responds with a very deferential bow at the waist, "Me, yes. Hello, Mrs. Selwyn. Been too long, and these are decidedly unfortunate circumstances under which to see you once again ..."

Can't say I'm surprised;

It was only a matter of time.

And on a day like today?