Chapter 14 #2
He looked at her sideways. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
“Started as a hall boy when I was 12, under the former prefect.”
The maths was easy. Ten years. Ten years he’d been working here and taking beatings for things that weren’t his fault.
“I’ve never been punished the way you have, never taken a beating. I never realised that made me lucky.”
“Makes you abnormal.”
“Does he do it to the other staff as well?” Aoife had a sudden, horrific image of Halverton beating Clara and wanted to vomit.
He studied her, weighing up how much information to tell her, then shrugged. “Most of the staff have no cause to interact with Lord Halverton. Kit and I, we’re the faces he sees every day. We’re responsible for maintaining the good reputation of Blackthorn Hall.”
“What about Mr Lanyon?”
“He’s too old for a beating.”
“I meant, does he not step in?”
“He did, once. Took a lash to the neck for his troubles. So, no, Mr Lanyon does not step in.”
Silence settled between them, thick and uncomfortable.
James straightened; the familiar mask sliding into place. “You should go, miss.”
Aoife opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“If Halverton finds out you were here when there are guests waiting above—”
He didn’t finish the thought.
Then she drew a slow breath and forced her hands to unclench as she slid down from the table. She checked his burn, dry now, and bandaged it with skilled, practised movements.
“Keep it dry. Try not to use that arm when you can. I’ll come down and change it later.”
James clenched his jaw, forcing the words out. “Thank you, miss.”
She composed herself, smoothing her dress and patting her hair.
She practised the calm, pleasant, unreadable Eldrossi smile.
Aoife walked back to the breakfast room, still fuming.
How many times had this happened? And none of the staff had stepped in to protect him.
There were thirty staff here. Halverton is one man.
Even if he is one man with the power, the soldiers and the support of an entire empire behind him.
It was hard to comprehend that the balance of power was so far in his favour.
She arrived at the breakfast room, took a deep breath, straightened her skirts, and pushed the door open.
The visitors were already seated.
“My dear, you’re late,” Lady Montbrass said, eyebrows raised.
Aoife summoned a bright, empty smile. “I overslept,” she said. “And I had to get my hair right.”
She let her fingers brush Halverton’s shoulder as she passed. A slight gesture, selling the illusion of closeness he wanted the lords to believe.
Her plate had been cleared. A fresh one sat waiting.
Kit stepped forward to serve her. Behind him, James slipped quietly into place by the sideboard. He kept his injured arm tucked subtly behind him, posture immaculate, face carefully blank.
Aoife didn’t look at him.
Didn’t dare.
He stood poker-straight, holding the pain in his silence, while the men who had caused it discussed their breakfast as though the world had never burned anyone at all.
***
The morning meal was subdued. Cutlery clinked softly. Even Lord Montbrass, who filled silence like a brass horn, seemed content to sip his coffee and chew in peace.
Lady Severcombe broke first. She set down her cup with a faint rattle.
“My maid insists she heard wailing in the night,” she said, leaning in as though sharing a joke. “She tells me the locals believe it’s fairy women mourning the dead.”
Lady Montbrass laughed, delighted. “Fairy women! These people are frightened of anything with a shadow.”
Lord Montbrass shook his head. “We passed a village yesterday where they won’t travel after dusk. Spirits on the roads apparently.”
“Oh, it’s worse near the coast,” Lady Severcombe chimed in. “They won’t even hang laundry after sunset. They think the dead will wear it.”
Montbrass chuckled. “Superstition breeds where idleness does.”
Severcombe smirked into his coffee. “Or where hunger does.”
A ripple of amusement circled the table, shockingly light, as though they were discussing eccentric relatives rather than the terror of a starving people.
Each laugh grated like grit between her teeth.
She kept her expression serene, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Not a flicker of the anger twisting in her stomach showed on her face.
Halverton, for his part, allowed the conversation to drift without comment.
Aoife stared at her plate until the forms ceased to make sense.
“I believe you have a spectacular hothouse here, Lord Halverton,” Lord Oswin said, steering the topic in a new direction, for which Aoife was immensely grateful.
“I do,” Halverton answered proudly. “One of the finest in the empire.”
“I wondered if I might explore the grounds after breakfast.”
“I’m afraid,” Lord Montbrass interjected, “Lord Halverton and I have some matters to discuss before we leave.”
“Perhaps Lady Aoife would be so kind as to show me around?” Oswin looked at her with a genuine smile. Aoife turned to Halverton.
Halverton considered for a moment. “A fine suggestion. I’m certain the other ladies would love to join you.” He turned to Lady Severcombe. “We have some of the finest flowers on the island.”
“We’d love to,” Lady Severcombe replied.
Lord Montbrass clapped his hands together. “Well that’s settled. Shall we?” He rose, and the others followed.
They parted ways at the door: the men to Halverton’s study, the women and Lord Oswin to the gardens. It wasn’t long before the other ladies fell behind, stopping frequently to admire a sculpture or the soldiers training in the yard.
Lord Oswin waited until they were beyond hearing distance to speak. “You’re not Eldrossi, are you?”
His words gave her a jolt of shock. She’d thought she’d performed so well; Halverton had clearly been pleased.
Oswin spoke quickly, recognising her discomfort. “Don’t worry. I don’t think the others noticed.” He cast a glance at his mother and her friend. “They don’t notice much if I’m honest.”
“How did you?” Aoife asked.
“It was a few things. A couple of words that came out wrong, the clothes that are clearly new yet still a little too big for you.”
Aoife’s cheeks flushed; that was a lot of things, a lot of mistakes.
“Like I said,” Oswin rushed on, “no one else noticed.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.
“I… honestly, I wanted someone to talk to.”