James gritted his teeth, but nodded.
“Is there a reason you don’t like me?”
James was silent, so Aoife continued. “I think I understand. I came out of nowhere, and now you’re expected to serve me. Who am I to wear these fine dresses and eat at his lordship’s table?”
James looked startled, as if she’d spoken a truth he hadn’t fully acknowledged himself.
“You’re Eldrossi, right?”
James nodded.
“It would help if we understood each other a little better. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would help.”
He’d been silent for so long it startled her when he spoke. “Why?”
“It usually does. I find talking solves a lot of problems.”
“I meant, why do we need to understand each other?”
Aoife scrunched up her forehead, confused by the question. “We live together.”
“We don’t live together. You live upstairs. We are not equals.”
The words felt like a slap. “Says who?” Aoife asked stubbornly.
“The man who decides whether I eat.”
“Well, he’s wrong. What separates you and me is geography and genealogy. That’s it.”
“You’re naive if you think the rest of the world thinks the way you do.”
Aoife pressed on anyway. “They want us to think that the emperor, the lords, are better than us, but they’re people, like you and me.”
“If you keep talking like that, you’ll get someone hurt.”
Aoife stopped pumping and moved to look at James’ arm.
“We should get this dry and wrap it,” she said, dropping the previous subject. “Do you have bandages?”
James nodded. “This way.”
He led her through the servants’ hall to a small room with shelves on all sides and a table in the middle. A workroom, though Aoife couldn’t say for what.
James indicated the bandages on a high shelf and Aoife reached a few down, spotting folded towels next to them.
James sat down at the table and she dried the skin around the burn gently.
“You shouldn’t work today,” she said. “You need rest.”
James stared at her, almost pityingly. “I’m expected to serve at breakfast.”
“I’ll explain to Lord Halverton. He’ll understand you had an accident.”
He gave her that look, Cormac’s look, the one that told her she’d missed something obvious.
Aoife’s stomach dropped.
“He already knows, doesn’t he?”
