1
If Geva Okoro never had to speak to her employer again, it would still be too soon.
“I’m just asking you to consider Cecily’s wellbeing,” she said to Mrs. Fitzwald, as steadily as she could. “She’s a very sensitive child, and I just don’t feel that a trip like this one would be in her best —”
She was interrupted by Mrs. Fitzwald’s pale, manicured hand, snapping up in front of her face. “This again, Miss Okoro?” Mrs. Fitzwald asked, her voice cold. “You thinkyouknow better than I what that child needs? You know better than her ownaunt?”
Geva refrained from pointing out that Mrs. Fitzwald had only met Cecily in person the year before, and drew in a bracing breath. “Of course not,” she replied, with effort. “But I’ve spent a lot of time with Cecily since she came here last year. And I know she’s still grieving her mother’s death, and this kind of trip —”
“A month enjoying the city?” Mrs. Fitzwald demanded, as she irritably waved for one of her hovering maids to come over to the dressing-table. “With her ownfamily? Her owncousins? That girl needs to come out of her shell, and this is exactly the kind of healthy activity she needs.”
Geva gritted her teeth, and gazed helplessly down toward where the maid was spreading out a variety of jewels on the dressing-table, so Mrs. Fitzwald could dangle them one by one in the gleaming looking-glass, and evaluate them against her fair skin. “Respectfully, I believe Cecily needs time,” Geva replied thinly. “And in my informed opinion as her governess, I believe a few quiet weeks here at the house would do her a world of —”
“Weekshere at the house, without her own family?” Mrs. Fitzwald cut in, her voice shrill. “With onlyservantsfor company?”
Geva’s surging retort nearly escaped her mouth, but she bit it back just in time, and clutched her hands to tight fists at her sides. No.No. She wasnotrising to Mrs. Fitzwald’s usual condescending rubbish. She was here to advocate for her pupil, because this was her damned job, and she was damned good at it.
And… because poor Cecily had wept herself to sleep every night for the past week, dreading this trip. A month trapped in a townhouse in the middle of the realm’s bustling capital, sharing a cramped room with her quarrelsome cousins, and being dragged about to any number of stylish engagements, full of strangers and noise and unattainable expectations. It was Cecily’s worst nightmare come to life, and Mrs. Fitzwald would know that, if she’d ever bothered to pay any attention whatsoever to her shy, lonely niece.
“I am your employee, Mrs. Fitzwald,notyour servant,” Geva replied now, her voice clipped. “And I assure you, should Cecily stay here with me, I will do my utmost to continue her education to the best of my ability. If you’re interested, we could review the curriculum I’ve —”
“Absolutely not,” interrupted Mrs. Fitzwald, as she pulled over her massive locked jewel-box, and signalled for the other maid to hand her the key. “I am not allowing my niece to stay here cooped up with servants, when she could be benefiting from some liveliness, and learning how to properly conduct herself! And besides” — she flicked open the box and plucked out a glittering sapphire pendant — “have you not heard the rumours about the orcs?! Roaming about the village here! Hunting down unprotected females to attack, and seeking out priceless jewels to pilfer!”
Her voice was triumphant, her hand swinging the pendant out toward Geva, as if this were a clinching closing argument, rather than yet another display of infuriating ignorance. Because yes, humans and orcs had been at war for decades, but several years before, the orcs had signed a comprehensive peace-treaty. And since then, to the best of Geva’s knowledge, there hadn’t been a single verifiable violation on the orcs’ part, let alone any blatant attacking or jewel-pilfering. And truly, if the orcsweredetermined to pilfer, one could only hope they would have better taste than Mrs. Fitzwald’s garish, gaudy collection — which, to all appearances, served only to remind Mrs. Fitzwald’s jealous acquaintances of her husband’s obscene wealth, earned upon the backs of the underpaid drudges at his grim, dangerous mill.
“The orcs are bound by a peace-treaty, Mrs. Fitzwald,” Geva finally said, into the taut silence. “And I know the house is very secure, and multiple other staff members will be here as well. But if you’re that concerned about Cecily’s safety, I can make sure to only take her out with an escort, and stay well within the —”
“I said,no!” Mrs. Fitzwald broke in, her voice ringing with furious finality. “Cecilywilljoin the rest of her family in the city, and enjoy it as the great privilege it is! And ifyouvalue your position as myservant, Miss Okoro, you will respect my authority, and do as you’re told. Namely, packing my children’s belongings for their trip!”
It took a monumental effort for Geva to keep her expression neutral, her hands tight at her sides, her breaths heaving thick through her nose. “In that case,” she said, through her clenched teeth, “will you at least reconsider allowing me to accompany you? I’m very familiar with the city, and I would be happy to continue our lessons, and take the children out to parks and museums and performances. I’m sure you would welcome the extra supervision while you enjoy —”
“And now you’re trying to get afree vacation?!” Mrs. Fitzwald demanded, as two red spots appeared on her cheeks. “As if it isn’t enough that we’re allowing you to stay here, in our house, free of charge, for an entire month, in our absence? Your greed isshocking, Miss Okoro, as is your impertinence! And” — she jabbed a pointy finger toward Geva’s face — “unless you want to spend the next month out on the streets seeking a new post, you will hold your tongue, and remove yourself from my sight!”
She’d thrown the jewel-box key back at one of the maids, who was twitching a small, smug smile beneath her meekly bowed head. Clearly enjoying the sight of the high-and-mighty governess being so roundly reprimanded, and Geva had no doubt whatsoever that the tale would be all over the servants’ quarters by nightfall.
“And make sure to hide the key properly, Mitzy,” Mrs. Fitzwald added, with another dark look toward Geva. “We’ll need to leave these roomsverysecure, in our absence.”
Damn it.Damnit. And there was nothing left but for Geva to spin around and stalk out of the opulent dressing-room, her back very straight, her head held high. But her hands were still clamped in tight fists at her sides, and a cursed rising wetness had begun prickling behind her eyes.
Gods, she hated Mrs. Fitzwald. Hated this huge, ostentatious house. And most of all, she hated these constant, grating reminders that no one here had the slightest regard for her education, her experience, or her expertise. Which she’d gained not only from her rigorous training and tutoring in the city, but also from her unusual upbringing with her well-read, widely travelled parents — both of whom had served as state ambassadors representing Ezira, their faraway home across the sea. A place Geva had never visited herself, but which had always been an important part of her identity — all the way from her brown skin and curly hair to her heartfelt love for tales and art and song.
But the Fitzwalds had never cared about any of it. And after four years of giving her utmost, doing her very best to support and educate the Fitzwalds’ three children — plus Cecily — Geva had found that the contempt from the rest of the household had only seemed to deepen. As if her very existence as a well-educated governess was a slight, an affront to the other servants’ lower status and salaries, and a critique — or even a challenge — of Mrs. Fitzwald’s role as the children’s mother.
But competition for governess positions was notoriously cutthroat, and gaining this post had taken months of effort, and had also required Geva to permanently relocate here, two days’ journey south from the realm’s capital city of Wolfen. Which made seeking out a new post that much more costly and difficult, and it was highly questionable whether a new post would turn out to be any better than this one, and…
“Miss Gee?” broke in a soft voice, and Geva startled in the hallway, whirling around to where — oh. It was none other than Cecily herself, hovering in the doorway of her small bedroom, her little face pinched and pale. “Did you… did you get a chance to speak with my aunt again?”
Geva swallowed hard, and attempted a smile. “I did, sweetheart,” she said, as steadily as she could. “But she still feels very strongly that it’s best that you go today, as planned.”
Cecily’s face crumpled, her shoulders slumping, her hands pressing against her eyes. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh. Th-thank you for — trying. I —”
But the words were lost in her great, gulping sobs, and Geva blinked back the wetness in her own eyes as she put an arm around Cecily’s shoulders, squeezing as tightly as she dared. “Oh, sweetheart,” she managed. “It’ll be all right. It’s only a month, and you’ll get to see all the sights in the city, too. Everything from fabulously dressed ladies to the most fearless rats in the realm! Speaking of which, have I ever told you the tale of the reckless roaming rat and his troublesome tongue?”
Cecily shook her head, but that was surely a flare of interest in her blinking eyes, so Geva drew her over to sit on the bed, and then launched into the tale. It was one her own mother had often told, full of jokes and mishaps and witty wordplay, and by the end of it, Cecily was giving a small, wan smile, and wiping at her wet eyes.
“Thank you, Miss Gee,” she said. “I’ll miss you so much. When we come back, we should —”
“There you are!” cut in a grating, painfully familiar voice — and Geva bit back her groan at the sight of Mrs. Fitzwald again, looming in the doorway, her stylish form now bedecked with jewels, her blue eyes flashing with rage. “Lounging about and shirking your duties,again, when the children’s packing isn’t evencloseto being finished yet?!”
