Oscar’s eyes narrow once again. “Young MasterAtlas, you mean?”
“Oh! Yes, sorry. Young Master Atlas—what about him?”
Oscar clears his throat, running a hand down the front of his vest. “He is the middle child and easy in temperament and need.He’s never been high maintenance with the other attendees before, so most of your attention will probably go to Missus Abigail.”
Oscar continues to tell us of the other people employed by the Chastains, and I tune out about halfway through. My mind is kind of stuck on thiswest towerthing. I mean, what kind of condition has flare-ups only after dark? And how did a kid so young contract it?
I guess I’ll learn more about it eventually. I’ll be living here, after all. But my curiosity is burning, though I feel like I’ve been bothering Oscar enough. If I push him any further, I fear he might throw me off the cliff out back.
“Now,” the moody butler continues. “I will give you a tour of the estate and show you your rooms. Please, leave your things and follow me.”
The first floor of the castle has twelve rooms and four hallways. We start on the east side of the main foyer, where Hall E1 and E2 are, finding our living quarters to be in Hall E2, with my father and Oscar on either side of mine, and the kitchen, dining room, and delivery room to be in Hall E1.
Halls W1 and W2 are located on the other side of the main foyer, and they contain the bathroom, the rest of the utility rooms, a chapel, an in-home theatre, and an infirmary.Rich people, am I right?
It takes almost a full twenty minutes to walk through and get a good look at each room on the first floor, so by the time we’re heading to the second, I’m ready to crash for the evening.
The main staircase has its own small landing about halfway to the second story, where it breaks off into two smaller staircases,one on the left and one on the right. We take the left: the east stairs.
The landing on the second floor is wide and empty, aside from the large window at the back of the space, past all four opposing hallways that overlook the cliff below. I find that the further into the castle we go, the higher the temperature rises.
“This is Hall E3,” Oscar says, showing the east hall closest to the staircase. “The first room is the drawing room, where the family frequently lounges. Next to it is the music room, and at the end of the hall is the guest room.”
He moves on quickly, and Dad and I follow him to the hallway further down the landing.
“Here is Hall E4,” he continues. “At the very end is where the Master and Lady sleep, as well as their en-suite restroom and the Master’s study. Jeremy, you will frequent this hall.”
I peek down the corridor, noticing that, just like the first floor, they seem to utilize a lot of candles and chandeliers with yellow-tinted light to brighten their spaces. Plenty of artwork hangs on the walls, and the hardwood floors shine.
We head to W3, which is just one large door that holds the biggest in-house library I’ve ever seen. W4 is very last, and Oscar takes a large breath as we turn the corner.
“First is Young Master Atticus’s room. This door is the restroom, and it separates his and Missus Abigail’s room. Now, this door here,” he points to a single, dark black door that is at the very end of the hall. “It leads to the west tower. As I said before, unless you are instructed to do soduring the day, do not enter this space.”
Hall W4 has a different atmosphere than the rest of Chastain Castle; an atmosphere that seems to weigh heavily on my chest with each inhale I take.
I stare at the door, and surprisingly, I find myself suppressing a shudder. Despite my bodily reaction, it feels as if the air here is several degrees warmer as well.
This butlerdefinitelyknows how to make the room rise in temperature.
“Of course, Oscar,” my father says, and I nod once, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.
As we retreat, my back turned to Hall W4, I swear it feels as if someone’s watching me. But when I turn to check, of course, no one is there.
By the time we make it back to the kitchen, our bags are gone, and Oscar informs us that dinner for the employees (a nice way of sayingservants) is served an hour after the Chastains eat. And apparently, they are eating now.
“Once they are done, our cook will clear their plates, and we will be able to sit and have our meal,” he finishes explaining.
Only, neither my father nor I gets to respond, as a sweet, soft voice filters into the room, and I swear, the temperature of the air rises once again.
“Oscar, my love,” the voice says, and the hair on the back of my neck rises. “Where is Barfred? These carrots arehorrendous.”
Dad and I turn at the same time, our eyes falling onto the boy standing in the doorway.
In a pair of white slacks and black slippers, paired with a sheer robe that puffs at his wrists and around the collar as it trails behind him, the boy stares back.
Striking glacier eyes and curly brown hair that crowds his ears and falls over his forehead, poking out from behind the base of his nape. His cheeks are rosy and freckled slightly, his lips full and pink.
I have never seen another man so beautiful before.
