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Ding. Ding.
I hear footsteps on stone, echoing through the thick wooden door. Moments later, it opens.
A man appears, wearing the Archduke’s livery—a fine black coat embroidered with red and gold; well-tailored trousers tucked into a pair of supple black boots.
The servants here dress like nobility.
I haven’t seen this man before. The servants that have attended to me have all been young men; discreet, efficient, and with impeccable manners.
Tight-lipped, too, despite my attempts to make conversation.
This one… he’s a bit different. Older. Slender, with a full head of silver hair, his face etched with fine lines. There’s a commanding air about him.
“My lady, my name is Gerent.” He executes a perfectly smooth bow. His accent is pure cultured Rahavan. “How may I be of service?”
Part of me feels like I should be the one askinghimfor guidance.
“I’d like to take a walk around the castle grounds,” I declare, trying to sound like I’m used to ordering people around. “Please arrange some suitable attire for me. I’d rathernotbe dragging skirts around in the muddy snow. I’ll need trousers, a shirt, and enough layers to keep me warm. A warm overcoat would be preferable. A pair of good boots would be even better.”
Gerent’s expression is as calm and cool as a deep lake on a summer day. “You may explore the internal grounds with an escort, but you can’t go outside the castle walls.”
“Would my escort happen to be the archduke, by any chance?”
“I’m afraid not, my lady. One of his men will take you around the grounds.”
“Still indisposed, is he?” I offer him an acid-saccharine smile. “I’m almost starting to think that he’s going out of his way to avoid me.”
“His Highness will see you as soon as he is able.” Now there’s just a hint of irritation in Gerent’s voice.
“I’d tell you that I understand,” I say sweetly, “but I’d be lying. In any case, I can see that you’re loyal to your master, and I don’t intend to torture you with incessant questions.”
Gerent gives me averypointed look. “You’re not wrong in your assessment of my loyalties.”
It’s almost a rebuke.
From a servant.
Ha.
“Well, it’s reassuring to know that Archduke Duthriss can inspire such sentiment in his people.”
The servant tips his head in acknowledgement. The sharpness melts from his expression. Whatever it was, the moment has passed. “I shall fetch you some attire that is suitable for this weather. Trousers, shirt, coat, woolen layers. It won’t be easy to source something in your size, but I’ll do my best.” He frowns. “The dressmaker will need to pay you a visit as soon as possible.”
“Tailor,” I correct.
“Both,” Gerent insists.
“I don’t need custom made clothing just for going outside. Isn’t there any woman in this castle with similar proportions to mine? I would gladly borrow and return. I’m really not that fussy, Gerent.”
Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a single woman since I entered this castle. The servants, cooks, housekeepers… they’re all men.
The servant gives me a strange look. “A moment if you please, my lady.”
Then he disappears, leaving me wondering about the strangeness of it all; about whatreallylies between the silent walls of this cold, vast, immovable castle.
Corvan Duthriss, what is wrong with you? Why are you avoiding me?
Father, you miserable, conniving bastard. What did you get me into?
