Hidden Mirrors

Chapter 4: The Atrium

Someone taped on her shoulder. A single neuron in Ronnie's brain fired, but she didn't need her brain for what happened next. With a cry, Ronnie lept up and her fists began to fly. Expertly, and it seemed without ever having to look, Ronnie executed a kick, a right hook, dodged her opponents arm, and had him on the ground within seconds. It was only after the threat had been neutralized that she saw it wasn't a threat at all. Lucky lay on the floor, looking terrified. 

"Oh my god Lucky, I'm so sorry! But come on! You should know not to do that," Ronnie exclaimed as she helped Lucky up. He wasn't seriously hurt, just some future bruises. Luckily, when she was tired, Ronnie didn't hit very hard. But she quickly realized that it was the bruises on the inside that she would most have to contend with, as was soon apparent.

"Follow me, Rieva wants to see you," Lucky muttered without looking at Ronnie.

They walked silently down the stairs to the door, where two horses were waiting. Without helping Ronnie like he usually did, Lucky swung up onto his horse and set off at a brisk canter. Ronnie followed quickly, her face betraying the pain she felt at being treated like a stranger by her closest friend. 

Ronnie and Lucky dismounted on the gravel circle in front of the house. A couple of butlers were bustling around, blowing imaginary leaves off the immaculate lawn and pruning already perfect hedges. Ronnie sighed and followed a painfully stoic Lucky into the abhorrently large mansion. Ronnie personally preferred her dilapidated tower in the woods, but Ms. Landon refused to let her stay there in the winter, as it got a bit chilly. Apart from Lucky, she was the only one who knew about the tower. Rieva didn't know or care where her daughter spent her days, as long as Ronnie wasn't anywhere near her mother's wing of the house. Left turn, right turn, another right, left, straight on for an eternity, past the garden in the middle of the house, up some stairs, hang a left at the bust of Alexander the Great (where the hell did we get that anyway? Ronnie thought) down the hall, past the expensive drapery that Ronnie spilled ice cream on when she was 2, and they stopped finally at the heavy and finely carved door that barred the entrance to Rieva's lair. Ronnie preferred to think of it as a lair, but it wasn't really that at all. It was spacious and well lit and by all accounts, really quite comfortable. That didn't make it any more pleasant for Ronnie. Rieva and a finely dressed male of about 40 were dancing on the balcony to Francesca's (Francesca was Rieva's personal harp player) undulating music. The man's hands were suspiciously close to Rieva's ass. 

"Just typical, another gigelow. You would think she'd get tired of them," Ronnie said snidely, in whispered French. Lucky snickered, unable to keep his face from cracking. Ronnie grinned. 

"You would think she'd actually go for someone good looking, I mean, he looks like one of those Wall Street greaseballs from America, all up and at 'em, thinking he's the shit,"  Ronnie continued, Lucky had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He composed himself and responded, 

"Well, since when has anyone good looking entered the house on our watch?" Ronnie covered her mouth trying not to laugh and nodded fervently. Finally, Rieva swept in, the man picked up his expensive looking suit coat and kissed Rieva for an eternity. It was getting a little more than PG, so Ronnie loudly cleared her throat. The man broke off the kiss and kissed Rieva's hand, "My dear," he said with a wink to her as he left. Ronnie glared at him, but he ignored her. Incensed, she turned on her mother. 

"What the hell Rieva? My god, you take irresponsible to a whole new level," Ronnie growled.

"Don't you dare talk to your mother like that, Veronika," Rieva said imperiously.

YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER ANY MORE THAN THAT SLEAZY PRICK IS MY FATHER! Ronnie wanted to yell. She held her tongue, though. That was a first. Lucky put a comforting hand on her shoulder, he recognized the signs. If he didn't get Ronnie to calm down, the explosion would be catostrophic. Ronnie's shoulders slowly uncoiled, but her hands stayed resolutely in tight fists. That would have to be enough for now. As long as Lucky could avoid an all out meltdown, things might just go in Ronnie's favor, another first.