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Melody smoothed out her dress as they followed him up the staircase. The maple banister was well-oiled and polished smooth, the treads on the stairs covered in a plush, red-patterned runner.
“This place is even more beautiful than the Blackstone,” Melody breathed. She said it just low enough so that only Eric could hear it.
He forced back a smile. “Uh huh.”
On the second floor landing they turned and followed their host down a fancily-paneled hall. Candles burned in sconces on either side. There were no light fixtures, only lamps and lanterns. Everything around them was period decor, one-hundred percent true to the late 18th century. Melody found herself wishing she could take pictures.
You won’t have your phone, she remembered Xiomara telling her, so no photos, or videos, or recordings. Everything you say and do must be period, as if you’re role-playing. Lady Neveux is very strict about that. As are the other guests.
It was the ‘other guests’ part Melody was worried about. Finding the egg would be one thing. Recovering it—
Stealing it
—in front of a bunch of other people? That was quite another.
The gaunt man pushed open a door on the left side of the hallway. He turned to face Melody and held up a large iron key.
“Your room, miss.”
She coughed. “My… my room?”
“In case you’d like to freshen up before your meal. Supper will be in the dining hall, in promptly half an hour. The Lady does not like to be kept waiting.”
She took the key mechanically, all the while avoiding touching the man’s hand. Supper?
Melody watched as Eric was led to a different room, about three doors away. He was given his own key — and the same stern warning about dinner — before the gaunt man disappeared around the next corner.
Why are we having supper?
The whole thing threw her for a loop. Dinner before a ball? She supposed it could make sense. Even so, Xiomara never said anything about—
“Hey.” Eric was there again, leaning against the door jamb. He looked a little concerned about her. “You okay?”
“Yes. I just… I didn’t realize…”
“That Lurch would be so weird?”
He smiled warmly, and Melody felt instantly better. Their eyes met. A moment passed between them. She was suddenly very aware that her dress — and maybe even her hair — were probably still covered in dirt from when she fell.
“Is there a mirror in my room?” she asked.
Eric held open the door for her. “Let’s find out.”
Six
It turned out the room did have a mirror, and a beautiful one at that. Melody pinned her hair back up, in the places where her golden curls had fallen down. Then she began brushing herself off.
“Turn around,” Eric said.
She did. His hands went to her waist. Her ass…
“OH!”
Melody jumped as Eric brushed caked mud from the back of her dress with his outstretched fingers. It fell to the floor in a dusty cloud — little flakes of brown powder — until he finally stopped and declared her clean.
“Now do me.”
He turned around. Eric’s ass, and the backs of his legs, bore the same brown streaks of dirt. She began patting him off awkwardly, trying not to touch him too much in the process.
