Page 109 of Fallacies

Phoenix said Alesi worked mostly in the kitchens. He would watch her leave the Estate every morning at sunrise to grab herbs from the garden, feed the hens, and bring back their eggs for breakfast. Part of the reason he decided to take her was because of how much time she spent outside the Estate. Alone.

I move towards a few empty baskets on a nearby shelf, taking quick inventory of the rest of the space. It’s small, handmade wooden shelves lining the walls and a long, narrow table in the center. Two worn benches line either side, more cloaks and aprons tossed over the seats than hanging from the designated hooks by the door.

To my right is an empty hearth, dirty and barren, like thousands of fires have burned within it, but it hasn’t been used in a long time. A very long time.

“Sick?” The girl prompts, plopping down on one of the benches to tie her shoes. “That’s not what The Umbra said.”

I can tell by the taunt in her tone that she wants me to be bothered by whatever was said about me—or Alesi. It feels an awful lot like gossip, but I’m happy to play that game. I need all the information I can get.

“Really?” I speak up, keeping that resigned boredom in my voice. “What did she say?”

Her eyes find mine, narrowed and smug. “That the Baron’s wife finally caught you screwing her husband so she buried you out in the woods somewhere.”

I blink back at her.

I’m going to kill Phoenix. With my bare hands. As Alesi.

For a long moment, I’m not even sure what to say back to that, so I busy my hands, reaching for a cloak that isn’t mine and draping it across my shoulders.

“Well, she was wrong,” I finally force out.

“It appears so.” The girl snorts, sweeping me with a pitiful gaze before getting to her feet. “I’d hurry if I were you.” She pushes past me with a smirk, snickering under her breath as she goes. “The Umbra might actually kill you if you miss breakfast.”

I watch her exit, taking a set of stairs on the other side of the room. I follow her on instinct, ignoring the twinge of fear that pricks my sternum. I can’t hesitate here—it would come off too suspicious.

Keeping a few stairs behind her, I note all the side halls off to the sides, trying to catalog everything as fast as I can. When she makes it to the top of the passage, she turns back around to face me.

I freeze, not realizing how closely I’d been following her until I’m inches from her face.

“You know,” she starts, her tough demeanor smoothing out as she stares back at me. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Oh. Maybe Alesi wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe I could use this friendship to⁠—

“I fucking hate chicken duty.”

She turns, pushing through the wooden door, and letting it swing back in my face. I jump back just in time, barely missing the hit.

Alright, then. Zero points for Alesi.

Blowing out a breath, I push through the door, stumbling into a room that renders me speechless.

It’s massive—the walls are at least two stories high, beautiful wooden beams dissect the high ceiling, and a massive crystal chandelier dangles from the apex. None of the candlesticks along the columns are lit, though hardened wax drips down the sides. There’s a large table in the center, nearly twenty chairs set out around it, and not a single one of them is filled.

All of the curtains are drawn, blocking out the rising sun, but enough slips through the cracks in the curtains to illuminate the space in a dreary grey. The details of this room are grand, but the grim lighting steals away any true opulence. It’s beautiful, but it’s also haunted. Full of lavish furniture and breathtaking art, but somehow still…empty.

Chiaros, they’ve sucked all the life out of this place. Drained it of all its color and shine.

Tearing my gaze from the sight, I hurry up to the girl’s side, dodging other servants who pass with dishes, cutlery, bowls of bread, and platters of fruit.

“What were you even sick with?” she asks without even looking in my direction, crossing the room in quick strides.

“Um,” I clear my throat. “Some sort of virus.”

“Well, you better hope it isn’t what’s going around the Captures. The Countess has thrown out a dozen more since you’ve been gone.”

I nearly stop dead in my tracks, the words falling out before I can stop them, “The Captures?”

The girl looks sharply in my direction. “The Sol they insist on keeping alive? Shit, Alesi, did your fever mess with your memory or something?”