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larger than the tiny flat he’d had in London. He missed London, sometimes, but Aurora had its
compensations. Every now and then, he wondered at how his life had turned out, but never
regretted his rash decision to take a dragon, of all people, up on his offer of a job in a country
an entire ocean away from where he’d lived his whole life. There was such a thing as hiding in
plain sight, and Finch accomplished it with expert mastery. Here, on American soil, he was the
perfect, unobtrusive servant, and with Hugh vouching for him, no one within Aurora’s Attendant
network had a clue they had a Disgrace living in their midst.
Which was precisely how Finch liked it.
His life was neat, orderly, and exactly what it was supposed to be.
Finch switched on his kettle to heat water for his morning tea. He poured milk into his mug,
grabbed a PG Tips tea bag, then put in bread to toast while he waited for his kettle to whistle.
Tea having been properly prepared, Finch scrambled two eggs, buttered his perfectly golden
toast, and took it all to his small table to eat. While he did, he looked through the news
headlines to see if there was anything important he should know, then checked Hugh’s
correspondence, which came to him, as his family knew better than to expect Hugh to pay
attention to emails or texts, let alone letters. As there was nothing pressing, Finch blacked out
his phone’s screen, prepared two tiny plates with a chunk of egg and a bit of toast crust on
each, and adorned each with one perfect blueberry. He cleaned up his breakfast dishes, then
went to go visit his girls.
“Good morning, ladies,” he crooned into the large cage housed in a corner of his suite. Two
rats poked their little noses out of the nest in their hammock, sniffing the air. “Yes, that’s right,
I’ve brought breakfast.” Finch opened the cage’s door and placed each plate down. Elizabeth
and Eleanor scrambled toward them. Finch clicked his tongue in warning and they slowed
down, stopping right before the food. “Good girls,” he said, and Elizabeth grabbed her
blueberry while Eleanor picked up her chunk of egg and nibbled at it.
He closed the cage door after giving each of the girls a good ear scritch. He’d let them out of
the cage later, after his duties were performed for the day, but for now, he left them to amuse
themselves with their wheel—Eleanor’s favorite—and a tissue box—Elizabeth’s current
passion. Breakfast delivered, Finch went to wash his hands thoroughly in anticipation of the
day ahead. It was officially time to go from being Finch the man, pet rat owner and inveterate
