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It’s a poor hiding place. If anyone looks too closely, they’ll see our feet peeking out beneath the fabric, the outline of our bodies behind the material.
I’m gripping Kellyn’s hand tight enough to hurt. He returns the pressure, his thumb running over the back of my knuckles.
The footsteps fade, ending in the closing of yet another door.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
“Servants’ wing,” Petrik whispers when we step away from the windows. “The high-ranking servants are kept close to the nobles’ rooms in case they’re needed. We should go down another level.”
We continue our slow trek.
“What are you doing?” a voice asks from behind us, and I go still as stone. Only Kellyn’s hand in mine is what allows me to turn.
It’s an older woman with russet-brown skin, her hair held up in a messy bun atop her head, wisps hanging about her cheeks. Her clothes are very plain, like ours. A tan knee-length dress with a white apron, the stitching coming undone at one of the sleeve’s hems. Her eyes are mostly in shadow due to the scant light.
I cannot determine her expression.
“We’re lost,” Petrik ventures.
The woman gives us the side-eye. “I’ll say. You think you can sneak off to the attic for a tryst in the dust? Where are you supposed to be?”
My mouth opens and closes like a fish. Feelings flash through me in rapid succession. Embarrassment. Fear. Urgency.
Kellyn and Petrik both turn their faces to the ground, as though ashamed.
Oh, oh!
I quickly do the same, realizing I need to play along.
“Kitchens,” Petrik mumbles.
“Then get there!” the woman says. She shoos us with her hands.
The boys shuffle off, and I’m jerked along because my hand still rests in Kellyn’s. At that realization, I take it back, having collected myself after the confrontation.
Petrik brushes dust off his skirt while Kellyn runs his fingers through his hair, trying to put the strands back in place. I scratch at my exposed shoulder.
“Apparently we didn’t think about how our run-in with the wardrobe would make us look,” I say, my cheeks heating. No one’s ever thought I was having a tryst before.
“Gave us a good cover story, though,” Petrik says.
At that, Kellyn purses his lips. “She thought thethreeof us—”
“Who cares?” I ask to hide my own embarrassment. “Just be glad we didn’t get caught. Where to now, Petrik?”
“I see the stairs ahead. We’ll be on the higher nobles’ wing once we descend. Everyone look docile.”
Docile? I don’t know how tolookanything. Temra is the talented actress.
And for some reason, I want to take Kellyn’s hand again.
I shake that urge and follow Petrik down the stairs.
The halls are lit up brightly enough to make me miss the darkness. There, I didn’t feel put on display, like people are staring at me. And I know that nobility don’t pay close attention to their servants. Iknowno one really is looking at me, but my body goes hot all over.
We only pass by the occasional courtier, nobles turning in for the night. They’re dressed finely. Men in short-sleeved tunics that reach their ankles. The women wear sleeveless dresses made from light fabrics. No one in sight wears pants or cloaks. It’s so much more skin than I’m used to seeing, but if I lived here, I’m sure I would follow suit. I loathe being too warm.
As I am now.
