Chapter 19
Nineteen
ALLETTE
I wake in complete darkness with my face pressed against a damp stone wall. It takes some fumbling, but eventually I manage to tap the fae light on the stone ledge at my bedside. I’ve missed these small conveniences while in the human realm.
According to the clock on the wall, it’s nearly half four in the morning. The wake-up bell will ring in thirty minutes. Stars, what I would give to sleep until noon. Instead, I collect my uniform draped over the lone chair, bringing it and my towel to the bathing room at the end of the corridor.
Steam warms my cheeks when I step inside the blessedly empty space that stinks like rotten eggs. I hang my things on a hook inside one of the five stalls and pull the thin curtain, removing my sleeping shift before stepping beneath the steady stream of water spurting from a spout in the red stone wall. Showers. Another luxury I’ve missed. You never feel as clean in a tub as you do in a shower.
The tension in my muscles drains away, disappearing into the long trough carved into the stone floor. Closing my eyes, I imagine the water beating my wings. Cascading down my feathers. Collecting between my shoulder blades.
I miss them.
I miss a lot of things.
As good as this feels, standing here all day isn’t an option. I wash quickly, but the steam makes it impossible to get dry. With my towel wrapped around myself, I throw my hair over my shoulders to hide my scars and hurry back through the chilly corridor to my room.
Despite being underground, the space is infinitely nicer than the inn where I had been staying. The best part is, it didn’t cost me so much as a copper, which is handy considering I left my bag behind. I thought about returning to retrieve it, but why? Those garments were a constant reminder of my time in the human realm. A time I’d love to forget even happened.
After drying myself, I slip into the plain white undergarments they gave me. The knickers are a bit loose at my hips, and the bralette is a bit tight, flattening my breasts and making it difficult to draw in a deep breath. The white stockings and plain cotton dress fit fine enough, although my slippers are far too big. Still, I’ve worn worse.
I tuck my mask, hood, and gloves into my pocket and make my way to the canteen where we had dinner last night. The food hadn’t been good per se, but, again, I’ve had worse.
Conversations buzz as the trestle tables slowly fill with men and women all in white. I follow one of them to where a man slops milky glop into clay bowls. What is that? It looks vile.
Although I thank him for the food, I have a feeling I’ll be cursing him after the first bite. Braith waves at me from a table near the far wall, warm fae light making her pale skin glow.
I’m still not sure what to make of her. She seems nice and helpful, but trust can’t be earned in a day, and she has made her hatred of Scathians quite plain. If she finds out I’m one of them, there is no telling how she will react.
Keeping my head down, I make my way through the maze of tables to where she sits with three other servants, two brown- haired women and one silver-haired man, all wearing the same narrow-eyed expressions as they watch me approach.
Braith pats the empty bench to her right. “Everyone, this is Wynn. Wynn, this is Jeston, Mari, and Del.”
I nod to each of them, lowering myself onto the bench and setting my bowl beside Braith’s empty one. The women offer polite hellos and then return to their breakfasts.
“Your eyes are strange,” the man, Jeston, says around a mouthful of whatever we’ve been served. Pretty sure it’s supposed to be porridge.
“Jeston,” Braith hisses, her cheeks turning pink.
“What? They are. I can’t be the only one who has noticed.”
I dip my spoon into the bowl, my stomach grumbling with hunger. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing they’ll be covered by a mask, isn’t it?”
Jeston’s lips tilt in a smirk before he scoops another spoonful of glop and shoves it into his mouth.
Braith kicks him beneath the table. “I thought I told you to be nice.”
He curses and tries to kick her back but misses when Braith tucks her legs beneath her on the bench. The two other women giggle. “You’ll have to excuse Jeston,” Braith says. “He was born without a filter.”
Sounds like he was born without manners too. “You two know each other?” I assume.
She nods. “Most of us grew up together south of the city.”
“What about you?” Jeston asks, stacking the empty bowls together and glaring at mine like I’m delaying him.
The glop tastes like nothing at all. The only upside is that it quiets my hunger and warms my bones.
What about you?
That is a good question. What do I want my backstory to be? If I’m supposed to be Wynn, perhaps I should stick to details about her life so it’s easier to keep things straight. “My parents are originally from Nimbiss.”
Mari and Del exchange a look before turning toward where Jeston’s smirk has become a scowl.
“Let me guess: You’re looking for a free ride back home,” he clips, his jaw ticking. “You’re too late. They’ve already filled the household.”
“Leave it off, you dolt.” Braith kicks him again. “I told you she wasn’t like that, didn’t I?”
I don’t have a clue what they’re bickering about, but I’m not going anywhere without my mate.
Jeston rolls his eyes. “You only met her yesterday, how do you know?”
“I have no intention of leaving Kumulus,” I assure him and anyone else within earshot.
“Told you so,” Braith says with a curt nod. “With your mum being so sick, I figured you wouldn’t be going anywhere.”
My mum being sick? What is she— oh , wait. I did tell the guard yesterday that I had a sick mother. Heavens above, how am I to keep all these lies straight? “Yes, she is quite ill. Wasting sickness.”
The two other women, Mari and Del, start nodding.
“The wasting is spreading like wildfire in the burrows as well,” the one with blue eyes says. I’m not sure if she is Mari or Del.
“That’s right,” the woman with freckled cheeks adds. “My aunt says the grave diggers are having to cram four bodies to one hole down there.”
Those poor people. After losing both my parents to the horrendous disease, I know firsthand how devastating it is watching those you love waste away to nothing before your eyes. No one should have to suffer like that.
I manage a few more bites, but my appetite seems to have disappeared. The moment I put down my spoon, Jeston gets up and carries everyone’s dishes to the sink in the corner.
One of the bells attached to the wall lets out a high-pitched jingle, and the man with the mustache from the day before steps into the canteen. Everyone around me seems to rise in unison, the conversations dying as they all start for where the man waits at the bottom of a staircase. I go to follow Mari and Del until Braith catches my arm and tells me unassigned servants are in a separate line.
“Mari and Del work in the kitchens,” she explains as we join the other new hires across the room. “Best job in the whole castle if you ask me. Guess who gets the first pick of the food that comes back from the banquets upstairs?”
Anything has to taste better than what we just ate. “Do we get to choose our assignments?” The kitchens sound lovely, but what I really want is to figure out where Senan spends his days.
Braith’s short hair swings when she shakes her head. “They’ll put you where they need you. Jeston says most new hires start out in the guest chambers.”
“Just guests? Not the family?”
“Oh, no. You have to be here for years before you’re assigned to the family’s warded tower. If you ever get there.”
Damn. There goes that option.
“See those three with Jeston?” she goes on, tilting her chin toward a trio of beautiful women. “They’re all assigned to the family. They work on rotation.”
Looks like I’ll have to find another way to speak to my mate.
The canteen takes no time at all to clear, leaving only those of us who were hired the day before, along with Jeston and the man with the mustache Braith calls the House Master.
“Attention, new hires,” the House Master’s booming voice echoes around the cavern, “while you have been selected to serve in your king’s household, your position here can just as easily be filled by someone else. If I find out that you are causing trouble, depending on the severity of your actions, you will receive a strike. After three strikes, you will be removed and blacklisted against all future employment opportunities with the castle and the Scathian nobility.”
I shift my weight, nerves buzzing in my stomach. Not sure why. It’s not like I plan on being here for long or screwing up.
The House Master goes over the rules, all of them fairly obvious. Keep quiet. If you must speak, speak softly. Remain in your assigned area. Do as you’re told.
“And above all, remember.” The House Master points to the sign above his head.
Be invisible .
I’ve been invisible for the last four years, so that shouldn’t be a problem.
One by one, the House Master gives out assignments for the day, consisting of a list of duties as well as a set of numbers corresponding to a tower, a floor, and the rooms on that floor.
When it’s Braith’s turn, she gives the man a hopeful smile.
“Kitchens. South tower, room 201,” he says.
With a clap of her hands, Braith skips out the doorway.
It’s my turn to step forward.
The House Master frowns down at the notebook in his hand. “Guest rooms. North tower, fourth floor, rooms forty to forty-nine.” He looks past me and gestures toward the woman at my back. “Next.”
This is perfect. Thanks to my work in the human realm, I know how to clean a room. I’d be lost in the kitchens. I tug on my gloves and slip my hood over my hair as I head for the hallway.
To my dismay, Jeston waits at the bottom of the stairs.
When I step past him, he clears his throat. “Unless you want to make the trek twice, you’re going to need one of these.” He kicks one of the laundry baskets stacked full of linens.
They expect me to carry that thing all the way to the fourth floor? It looks heavier than I am.
I heave a basket into my arms and search the hallway for directions to the north tower.
Once again, Jeston clears his throat.
“What?” I snap.
The irritating man grins. “You forgot your mask, Goldie.”
Where did he get off, calling me that? “My name is Wynn.”
Jeston’s grin widens. “Not anymore.”
He can call me whatever he wants. It won’t faze me. Besides, I don’t have to answer to some silly nickname. I put down the basket to fasten my mask over my face. The mesh screen will take some getting used to, but I can see surprisingly well, all things considered.
Jeston lifts a basket as if it weighs nothing, propping it on his hip and waving toward the staircase. “Ladies first.”
I’ll give him a bloody lady. “No, you go ahead.”
“I insist.”
He can take his insistence and swallow it along with his infuriating comments. My irritation spurs me up the winding staircase, higher and higher, but by the second floor, that irritation is replaced by a different sort of burning in my chest. Thank heavens I’m only on the fourth floor. Imagine climbing all the way to the tenth. Talk about torture.
There is a numbered plaque above each door, which is handy because I can see myself losing count after a while. My over-large shoes leave me stumbling a few times on the way up, up, up.
“Were you this slow at your last job?” Jeston grumbles from behind.
“Are you always this annoying?” I shoot back. By the time we reach the fourth level, my heart feels like it’s about to burst, and my legs shake so badly, I’m afraid they’re going to give out completely. Why in the world do Scathians insist on living in towers, anyway? Tuath and human homes make far more sense.
Jeston’s grating chuckle reverberates off the stones.
If he wasn’t here, I would sink down on the ground and pass out. The man blows right past, not even breathing heavily as he speeds toward the upper floors.
The telltale brush of a ward tickles my hand when I reach for the doorknob at room forty. Stepping into the guest chambers feels like entering another world. One where the musty air from the caverns no longer exists. The room has been painted the same shade of crystal blue as the sky beyond the open balcony doors. Such luxury. Such opulence. I knew the castle would be stunning, but this is something else. And this is only a guest room. Imagine the family’s tower.
I wonder what Senan’s room looks like.
Maybe one day soon, I’ll find out.