Chapter Twenty-Six #2
The room’s comfort almost lured Eleanor into ease. All manner of seating was available and being used; large comfortable looking oval stools were for lounging, along with chairs with straight ridged backs and chairs with soft backs, chairs with no arms, and chairs with arms.
Her stomach twisted when she realised that some nobles were holding themselves stiffly, while others showed a preference over a certain side.
Upon closer inspection, she saw unknown nobles rigidly holding a limb, while some had a thin sleeve tucked into a pocket.
Whoever these courtiers were, they weren’t in the party palace for a reason, and she’d just found it.
The king’s absence was evident as Eleanor roamed the edge of the room.
Maybe that caused the unburdened atmosphere, or maybe it was just because the nobles were away from the palace?
Eleanor hadn’t seen the marquis, but the glances and lingering looks towards the doorway were telling.
They were all waiting for him to make his grand entrance.
Eleanor’s attempts to ignore the courtiers’ giggles failed. She appeared indifferent, but a small part she didn’t want to recognise in herself did care, just a little bit.
She didn’t belong. She never would.
Eleanor grabbed a glass of sparkling wine from a server’s silver tray, but the size of him took her aback. He was clearly another guard in disguise.
What was the marquis feeding these men, or was it something in the water?
Eleanor watched the server-guard make his way to the corner, where there was a cluster of ferns in large painted pots. He disappeared behind them, then a servant emerged from behind the plants with a fresh tray of wine.
She subtly sniffed the wine, ignoring the questions she couldn’t ask, and let the crisp orange scent with a hint of roses and spices reach her nose before drinking.
Eleanor was already counting down the minutes until she could leave and return to her shoddy bed without incurring the madam’s unpleasantness. She checked the room in case she’d missed a server with food, but only sparkling wine was being offered.
A thought snaked through her. Had the courtiers already eaten, and had she been a last-minute addition for the evening’s entertainment?
This reminded Eleanor that she didn’t understand why the marquis had invited her.
According to Lauressa, it was one of the most coveted parties of the Season.
A social event where anyone who wanted power and popularity was invited.
She wanted neither and doubted these courtiers would provide either.
She understood her presence conveyed a message, but its nature remained unclear.
Her stomach twisted against the rumble of hunger, admonishing her for not remembering the last time she had eaten.
She didn’t fit in here, and she knew it.
An unbidden thought wormed its way into her head and her stomach twisted: was this the marquis’s idea of a joke at her expense?
She tried to banish that thought; it didn’t sound like the marquis that she knew from their time together, no matter how short it’d been.
Especially in the carriage when he’d shown her something real… hadn’t he?
Draining the last of her wine to drown the knot that’d built in her stomach, she made her way towards the leafy ferns in the corner. She wasn’t standing around waiting for the marquis to make his impressive appearance. Instead, Eleanor slipped through the door the plants shielded.
Leaving through the back corridors had felt like a good idea at the time, but Eleanor’s uncertainty grew as the sounds of the party faded.
Sconces lit the corridor that ran ahead and it was free of any cobwebs or lingering dust. The stone-flagged floor was smoother in certain areas.
All evidence of a well-used passage, which connected to the whole residence.
As if she needed confirmation, the sound of low voices carried along the passageway, and was followed by a clatter of footsteps.
Servants were coming towards her, probably carrying trays filled with more sparkling wine.
The marquis couldn’t have his noble guests going thirsty, not at his prestigious party.
Eleanor dived into the first passage and turned right.
She continued along it until she could no longer hear the footsteps and voices.
There were other paths for the servants to manoeuvre around the mansion without being seen, and Eleanor knew at some point this passageway would rejoin with her original path.
Even though she was relatively safe in here, no one would think these fancy party-goers would deign to go into the servant areas.
Still, Eleanor took quiet steps as she ran a hand over the plain wall, feeling the soft trail of air leaking through the cracks.
A section of the wall, with sconces spaced further apart than others, revealed concealed doors running along that hallway.
She didn’t want to risk going through them, not knowing what was behind them, hoping this passage would eventually guide her to the kitchens.
Eleanor inhaled sharply as her hand caught on a rough edge of an uneven patch of wall. The edge tore at her palm, making her curse softly. As she pulled her hand back, a sliver of light seeped out from beyond the hallway, and soft voices filtered to her.
The piece of metal that’d caught her hand swung away from the wall, revealing a small hole.
A spyhole.
A round piece of metal covered the spy hole on a small hinge, and it had some sort of design on the piece that was inserted into the hole. It would perfectly match to whatever wall design was on the other side.
Eleanor clenched her stinging hand to stop any traces of her blood dripping onto the floor and placed her other hand over her mouth to quieten her breaths.
She peered through the hole and saw a softly painted room, but a sudden movement made her jerk her head backwards.
Whoever was in the room had moved in front of the spyhole, completely blocking her view.
A light airy laugh filtered through the darkened passageway.
Was this where the marquis had been?
Whoever had briefly blocked her view had now stepped away, giving her a better view of the room beyond.
It looked like it was some type of sitting room, with a long sofa and some large chairs spread around.
She couldn’t tell what else was in the room, but the indication was clear.
The room’s design ensured occupants could sit in perfect view of this spy hole, for them to sink back and comfortably recline, then all their secrets and confessions would flow.
Eleanor saw two women sitting on the patterned sofa with their backs to her. She couldn’t tell if they were familiar. There were a number of new nobles, but she thought she recognised their voices.
“I didn’t think he’d actually get her to come.”
“Don’t tell me you made a bargain with him?” a soft voice asked.
Eleanor stood still, waiting on bated breath to hear more. She knew listening in was bad manners, but what did she care about manners these days?
“Of course I did,” the first voice replied. “I didn’t think that little whore would actually come. They don’t attend parties at this point in the Season.”
Eleanor’s jaw clenched as she realised who was in that room.
The women from that night in court, when she was a bet and made to play the piano.
The two women who’d been with the man with the blue eyes—Duke Aillard—and the marquis.
Verena and her friend, the blonde, who Eleanor didn’t know the name of.
“Why would you gamble on something like that? You know what he’s like,” the light voice said.
There was quiet until Verena spoke. “I know…but the rumours…I had to do something. Someone has to look out for him, otherwise he’ll get into The First only know what.”
Before she had time to understand what they were talking about, heavy, even-paced footsteps echoed in the concealed corridor.
Eleanor didn’t need to be discovered creeping around the servants’ access uninvited.
She knew they would swiftly revoke her invitation, along with her position as a courtesan.
Eleanor carefully replaced the piece of metal back into the spy hole and moved to the next darkened section.
Hoping it led to somewhere different from where those spiteful women were and away from the impeding footsteps, which were getting heavier and crisper, she ran her hands over the wall, pushing at sections, looking for that spot.
It’d just be a matter of finding where the handle or catch was.
The footsteps sounded close now. They were just around the corner.
Eleanor tensed; she was going to be discovered soon. Her fingers met the wall with a soundless click, revealing the outline of a door.
Eleanor had no time to worry about what was on the other side as she pushed the heavy partition and slipped through.
The room’s complete darkness and stillness washed over her, leaving behind the party noises, the steady quartet melody, and the steady footsteps. She quietly clicked the hidden door back into place.
Eleanor sighed, finally feeling utterly alone. She relished a few peaceful moments before she was forced to go back and inevitably see the Marquis of Laerus.
She just wanted to remain for a little longer.
But the sky would not let her be in the dark for long.
The clouds parted, allowing cool white rays to shine through the high windows, revealing enough of the room for her to know that she’d ended up in a study or library.
Bountiful shelves stretched above her, and books burdened all the surfaces.
With the crescent moon and stars shining as bright as they were tonight, Eleanor left the wall sconces unlit.
It would reveal her presence in the room, and it’d be a shame to spoil the night. No-one needed to know she was here.