Hide and Seek
Chapter one
There was no room for mistakes when hiding from an adversary.
Lucianna took shallow breaths, as each exhale pressed her abdomen against the door of the tall but slender cabinet she had stowed away in.
She did not have room for much of anything in a place like this.
Footsteps echoed through the empty ballroom. Her muscles tensed.
No visibility. No indication of approach apart from footfalls she strained to make out. Lucianna was certain they could not know she was there, for this location in the estate was too small and insignificant to draw attention. But still, her heart pounded.
“If someone was here, they are not now,” a man spoke from the other side of the cabinet door, his voice tired.
Lucianna supposed she would be tired too, if she’d been woken up before dawn to chase after an invisible thief.
“I am certain I heard someone,” another man’s voice insisted.
A grimace twisted Lucianna’s lips. Her father had taught her that silence was one of the highest virtues for a person in her position.
He would be disappointed to find out she hadn’t managed to avoid the attention of the household staff.
Her fingertips brushed over the bag slung across her body.
At least she had the information she was sent to retrieve.
Lord Treisling was a shrewd financier within Enlight.
It seemed to most that he had started his career with honest intentions and sought to help people along the way.
The past two years, however, his demeanor had changed and with it his business dealings.
Interest rates went up; the grace period for the downtrodden missing a payment was extinguished.
Lucianna’s father suspected that Treisling had possibly made his own misstep.
An investment gone awry or a gambling debt due.
She had just found evidence to incriminate him when a servant heard her moving about the manor.
“We have combed the estate twice over,” the first man grumbled. “You are welcome to keep searching, but I must prepare for the day, since it is nearly dawn.” The latter half of his sentence was laced with venom.
“Very well, I will. I’m not going to be the one to have to tell the master that he let a thief get away.”
A huff pierced the air, then there was a retreat of footsteps. One pair. The other man was still in the room. That was not ideal. Every muscle in Lucianna’s body was taut. She could barely hear the servant moving about the room over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.
If she wanted to leave this room without harming someone, without leaving a trace of her presence, she would have to be both reckless and careful at once. Lucianna often walked the thin line between the two.
She slowly pushed the slender door to the cabinet open just enough for a sliver of light to break through the darkness.
Her Gift warmed in the base of her throat, and she took on the voice of the man who had recently left the room.
She pressed her mouth against the opening and drew in as deep a breath as the tight space would allow.
“I found him!” she yelled, throwing the stolen voice to the opposite side of the room. Hopefully, the man would think his fellow servant yelled from the hallway.
The man let out a variation of a war cry and scurried from the room.
His boots hit heavily against the floor.
As soon as he was gone, Lucianna slipped from the tall cabinet she had been hiding in and surveyed the space.
Tapestries the color of sweet berry wine were draped over most of the windows.
Thick golden tassels swept the glossy ballroom floors.
Gold-brushed sconces hung from the walls, two of which were lit, shedding light on a large portrait of Lord Triesling.
One would not know it was him if they were not informed by the subject himself, for the man had instructed the artist to paint him far younger and more handsome than he actually was.
A cacophony of panicked and argumentative voices sounded from the hall. Lucianna’s stomach dropped. She could not dally. The distraction provided would only last long enough for the two servants to argue with one another over who said or heard what.
Her eyes darted to a set of glass doors that led to a balcony overlooking the estate gardens. It was not an ideal route, but she had lost her grasp on ideal when she gave up the advantage of silence. Lucianna flitted to the door and opened it just enough to slide into the balmy twilight.
No guards or servants were roaming about below, likely all focused on the scene she caused inside.
So she climbed the railing and latched onto the brick wall.
The rough material scraped against her fingertips as she dug them in.
Her core clenched. Though she had trained extensively in the art of scaling walls, she was not fond of the feeling of being suspended in the air.
A floral-scented breeze washed over her, causing goose bumps to pepper her skin.
She moved as quickly as was reasonable and let out a sigh of relief when her boots touched the grass below.
Her steps were light as she wound through the gardens to the back of the estate.
She caught sight of a black-capped guard stalking through a row of azalea bushes.
Heart rioting in her chest, she rolled to the ground behind a nearby hedge.
The guard’s boots squished atop the dew-drenched ground.
He did not bother to conceal the sound, which was to Lucianna’s advantage.
Her knees pressed into the grass. The trousers she wore grew wet the longer she hunched there.
Once the guard was out of earshot, she slowly arose and peered about the landscape.
She watched the tailored suede cap of the guard disappear into the estate.
Then she was off again, hurrying toward the edge of the property.
The fence surrounding the estate was more for show than practicality.
There was little wildlife in Enlight. The capital was so overrun with people that the most Lucianna ever saw were gulls on the docks and the occasional insects hovering near oil lamps.
The gaps in the wrought iron fence were wide.
They left enough space for Lucianna to squeeze through, which is exactly what she did once she arrived at the border.
The homes bordering the estate were quiet.
The servants inside would be lighting their lamps and beginning their duties for the day soon enough, but this area of the city, inundated with noble families, slept longer than others.
Down by the docks, sailors and lower-class merchants would already have sweat on their brows.
Those who owned taverns, bakeries, and inns would be busy preparing breakfast for their patrons.
But here in the Lumen District, families slept until sunlight streamed through their velvet curtains.
Lucianna slinked through the shadows between houses and thought of how her father wanted that life for her.
The man had sacrificed much to be in the position he was now.
He’d scrounged his way into the gentry and was now a duke, which was rare even in a self-made city like Enlight.
That made her Lady Lucianna Morrowe. A smirk stole over her features.
The neighboring nobles would have a fit if they knew what she did while they slept.
Duke Morrowe hadn’t intended to form his daughter into a veritable spy, but instead sought to train her in the name of self-defense.
The more successful a man became, the larger the target on his family.
Lucianna learned knife skills and how to make herself scarce so as to preserve her life.
But then her Gift manifested shortly after her thirteenth turn of year.
Once her father saw how useful stealing a person’s voice could be .
. . well, he knew his daughter could learn to steal other things, too.
Items and information that would ensure his place in nobility were never in question.
Indigo twilight bled into golden dawn the closer Lucianna got to her home.
With each block, she breathed easier. The tightness in her chest and muscles eased.
Her gait slowed, and her gaze lingered on the homes of her crowded neighborhood.
Houses butted up against each other. The small patches of green around the homes barely qualified as a yard and overlapped between residences.
Lucianna’s home shared a line of rose bushes with their neighbors, the Foltens.
The blooms glowed in the early morning light, a pleasant sight for her tired eyes.
Enlight did not subscribe to the idea of sprawling estates, especially closer to the center of the city, where she resided in a slender two-story home with her father.
Lord Treisling’s estate that she had just escaped from was one of the larger properties in the capital, and it had been passed down from generation to generation.
New nobility like her family lived well but would likely never possess so much land.
Lucianna did not mind. Though her father spoke fondly of his visits to other islands with estates as large as the emperor’s castle, she didn’t know what she would do if she resided on a land with rolling hills and no neighboring houses in sight.
She imagined the quiet would be maddening.
The bustle of the city helped to distract her often racing thoughts.
Exhaustion was beginning to tug her eyelids down and make her movements sluggish, but she knew her father would be awake and expecting a detailed report.
She hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed by her being heard.
Perhaps he would be impressed by her distraction and not focus on the initial failure that led to it.
“Long night?” a familiar voice spoke as she entered the darkened house.
Her older brother, Damon, walked down the stairs to greet her. He was already dressed for the day, likely headed to the forge.
“Longer than anticipated, which I am certain Father will be unhappy about. Is he in his study?” Lucianna inquired.
Damon nodded. “Last I passed through his corridor, his man of business was leaving. He should not be occupied.”
Lucianna frowned. That would be the third time in the past week that Mr. Ralts had been by.
Such a frequency meant that her father was working on something, something he had not informed her of.
While Lucianna did not pretend to be privy of all her father’s business matters, he often included her in his planning.
“Perhaps Mr. Ralts brought good news, and it will spare you from a lecture. Shall I accompany you?” he offered.
Lucianna shrugged in response.
“If you wish. Do you not have business to attend to?”
“The forge will still be there after I escort you.”
Damon turned back toward the staircase, and Lucianna followed.
Suspicion crept up her spine as she climbed the stairs.
She glanced at her brother. He was a kind and nurturing older brother, but outside of the walls of the Morrowe estate, he was a shrewd businessman.
Such behavior was expected of him as the heir.
If anyone other than her knew what was going on, it was him.
“This is the third time he’s been by,” Lucianna informed him. “Do you know why that might be?”
Damon's gaze cut to her, then back ahead as they stepped onto the first landing.
A large chandelier hung unlit above them.
It was made of elaborately twisted steel; the material gave what was usually an elegant piece a more severe look.
Such was the Morrowe way. Intimidation at every turn.
Beauty itself was a weapon, even in interior decoration.
“You do know something,” Lucianna hissed, and elbowed him in the side.
He grunted. “I know very little.”
She paused on the landing.
“Tell me this instant,” she demanded with all the insolence her position as the youngest child afforded her.
“It is not for me to say,” Damon told her with pointed gentleness.
Lucianna scowled. “We do not keep secrets. That has always been our way. If you do not tell me, I will think the worst.”
For only the worst could hold her brother’s tongue. Her stomach was a cloth being wrung out, twisted by anxiety.
Damon averted his eyes. Hurt pierced Lucianna’s sternum.
“What has happened, Damon?” she asked, her voice small.
No answer came.
“Ah, Lady Lucianna, perfect timing,” the estate’s butler, Mr. Kallahan, spoke from the top of the stairs. “His Grace has sent for you. He is waiting in his study.”
Lucianna met her brother’s gaze. There was concern and sympathy there that only further unwound her composure.
What could be so terrible that her iron-willed brother was worried?