Work was boring.

Sure, everyone thought work was boring, but most people were also boring, so it made sense for them to be trapped in dull, uneventful jobs. If nothing else, it gave meaning to lives that had to be painfully worthless and poor and chained by conventional morals.

But Chrys was different! Chrys was exciting and dangerous and a princess, so she should have been too important to need a job. It was not like she needed to work for money. If daddy was not so stubborn, he could certainly just give her money when she wanted it. There were Hollywood girls like that; they did pretty much nothing but disgrace family names while running around causing mischief with a family credit card. If Chrys’s level of troublemaking were kept to unflattering tapes and drunk driving charges, maybe she would not have to spend her time in an office looking over transport documents.

One or two days of work a week were still too much. The work was tedious but not challenging, and certainly not interesting to Chrys. She mentioned to her father at one point that she was considering going to medical school to become a doctor. Her father did not like the idea; he understood just how dangerous that level of power and access could be to someone like his daughter. The last thing Chrys needed in his opinion was a new avenue of people willingly putting themselves in the way of Chrys’s scalpel.

Her father never trusted her with anything, even at the office. She had a good position, but it was not one that her father expected to be treated like a real responsibility. Even being at the office was mostly for show; a monkey could approve the shipping orders he was requesting. Her days rarely had a moment that was out of place.

Which was why the unexpected was so unsettling.

bzzzt! “Miss Van Hart.”

Chrys jumped out of her tired daze at the sound of her secretary’s voice. ”Um, yes?”

bzzzt! “…Mister Van Hart has requested you in his office.”

Chrys’s eyes widened. There was no reason she could think of for a call to the office, and she had been a relatively good girl as of late! ”Are you sure? I have no meeting’s scheduled.”

There was a longer pause, but when the speaker resumed, there was a new, deep voice on the other end.

bzzzt! ”…I know.”[/b]

…

”…D-daddy?”

Chrys took nervous strides through the open office space occupied by workers not important enough to garner their own wall a window office. Normally, she would take some time mentally examining the cubicles in disgust, but she was too distracted. She could not even take pleasure in the stray looks from employees who found her ominous and unnerving.

Instead, she was combing her mind, trying to think of any reasons she could be in trouble. She was keeping her extracurricular activities quiet in recent memory, and she was especially careful that no one she did play with was going to tell anybody about her games. She had been very sure to avoid being careless since—

Oh no! It could not be Akshay, right? It was too long ago since she let the lean, mean, Indian dancing machine go. Sure, he was not giddy about the time they spent together, but she was sure he would keep it to himself.

But then what was it? How was she in trouble? How was she supposed to sweet talk her way out of her problems if she had no clue what they were?

The moment of truth was finally at hand. Chrys poked her head into her father’s office. ”I’m… here, daddy.”

Much to Chrys’s surprise, her father’s tone was light, as were his features. “Ah yes, Chrysanthemum, please come in. Close the door behind you if you could.”

The girl nodded and quietly complied with her father’s requests. Soon, she was sitting in the chair before her father’s desk, trying not to fidget as his eyes watched her. After what felt like hours of silence (over the course of fifteen real life seconds,) her father spoke, cutting straight to the point as many business men did. “Chrysanthemum… there is a business venture I have been looking into. It has the potential to be a profitable endeavor and the higher-ups have been discussing a game plan in the hopes of making this happen.”

Chrys nodded silently. She did not want to interrupt her father, but she had no clue why he was bothering to share these plans with her. The higher-ups were the ones her father consulted with when it came to big company decisions, both legal and… less so. More often the less so.

“It has been decided that this venture should be initiated by someone who has something in common with the product, and most likely those currently distributing it. We need someone who would appeal to those distributors to serve as the face of our offers.”

Her father grinned, and Chrys felt the room grow just a degree or two colder. “You’re our choice, sweetheart.”

Shock was an understatement for the emotion on Chrys’s face. The notion that her father wanted her at the forefront of his operation was… impossible. Unheard of. Forgetting her manners for a moment, she blurted out, “But why?”

Her father glared at her, and Chrys quickly shrank back in her chair. When he was certain she was back in her place, he straightened his tie and replied casually, “Because of your condition, dear.”

Chrys felt the color flush from her face. Her condition: mutant.

Chrys felt like she was bound to her seat, which was normally something she would not mind, but there were no bindings. She was now being held down by her father's request, whatever it might be. For him to even mention her mutant identity, she had to believe his request meant exploiting her because of it.

And she could not fight him. His word was law, and she knew that. "W-what is it you need from me, daddy?"

"Do you know about M, sweetie?"

Chrys was not exactly one to keep her eye on the news, but the M stories had popped up once or twice in passing around her, even if the conversations were kept quiet. "I know... of it, I guess?"

Her father nodded, expecting an answer like that. It was certainly nothing that would dissuade him. "Yes, well, as you may or may not know, those involved in the production of the material happen to share your condition." Ever like the politician he was, her father would avoid words like "drug" and "mutant," always speaking carefully. It was a skill she had to use sometimes too; she was not as adept with it, but when it mattered, she kept her mouth shut.

"The venture seems quite... promising. And as a company who delivers, with such a wide collection of resources," meaning, of course, resources of legal and less legal varieties, "it could be very lucrative for both sides to work out an arrangement."

"And me?" Her role was obvious, but she would ask regardless.

"Sweetheart, your role is obvious. Your kind are far more likely to trust one of their own, especially in a time like this, so you will be my ambassador."

"Ambassador?"

"Yes... my will shall be operated through you. Like a puppet."

The man stood from his seat and smiled a wide, joker's grin as he opened up a drawer. "And we both know you're such a good puppet, right?" he asked, pulling out a bandana, the sight of which caused Chrys to tense up.

Chrys did her best to compose herself as she left her father's office. Still a bit shaky, she carefully closed his door, trying to avoid too much in the way of noise. She walked back to her office, wearing a trendy scarf she was not wearing when she entered the meeting with her father. The scarf would garner less stray looks than the shallow cuts healing along her neck and shoulders. She could still taste remnants of cloth in her mouth from the bandanna of protection worn for her father's sake. She would have been in trouble if she formed a link on instinct.

Chrys's secretary did her best to get the dollmaster's attention, but it was futile; Chrys bypassed her completely and reentered her office, where she proceeded to close and lock the door.

Her skin was still covered in goosebumps; it had been a long time since... she had her father's attention. For years, she felt cast aside by her father, like the least loved child tossed aside. Even her feelings of uneasiness could not keep her mind off the sensation of being recognized and admired by her father. Anyone else would realize her father's attention was only given to her as a means of manipulating her into fulfilling his needs, but Chrys was so trained to seek her father's approval, she was blind to the truth.

He even spelled the truth out for her; she was his puppet and he was pulling her strings, and even still, she happily picked up her phone and began reaching out to contacts, simply pleased to be living up to her purpose.