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“Anyway,” he says, turning. “Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs.” He walks to a door opposite my own, and pushes it open, disappearing into it.
“Wait, my shoes?” I call after him. The door closes behind him.
I wait a second, then two, then three.
Great. Well, whatever. I don’t need shoes, I guess.
I start down the stairs, and a girl comes up from the other way, a tray balanced on one hand, a towel on her other arm.
She looks a bit like Emi, tall and lean, blonde hair tied up in a bun, big green eyes that remind me of the grass growing around the trailer park. She smiles when she sees me, and it’s genuine and friendly, a dimple appearing in her cheek. I’m... startled to see someone, but I hide it quickly.
“Good morning, Miss,” she says politely. “You’ll find breakfast in the dining room. I’m just going to see to it, and I’ll fix things up for you in there quickly.”
“I.. uh...” I blink at her as she passes me by, and that’s when I realize she’s in a simple black uniform, a demure blouse, and a skirt that ends right at her knees, stockings, and black flats. Like she’s... staff?
She gives me a pitying look when I stay frozen on the steps.
“You should go eat. Mr. Mortaine wouldn’t be happy if you fainted dead away from lack of food,” she says, and then disappears upstairs. I hear my door opening, and the sound of her rummaging around in there.
Mortaine. Hadrion. His last name is Mortaine. I’m not sure why, but it’s important. It’s a piece of the puzzle.
I walk downstairs, following the scent of bacon and eggs and coffee, and my stomach growls, reminding me how hungry I am. Downstairs opens into a large area for entertaining in, more couches and sleek lacquer tables painted a shiny red. They’d show up with fingerprints on them so easily, and I can’t imagine how furious Emi would be if we had furniture like this. The far side of the room has floor to ceiling windows, although the shades are drawn. It’s well lit from the light spilling in from above, though, double doors in front of me leading to what looks like the dining room, and more doors on my left that are ajar. I peek through one, and it looks like an office, an imposing desk in the middle of the room. I sneak up to it quietly, sure in fact that the girl is upstairs, and Hadrion is in his room—
But then his voice booms behind me, and I yelp, my heart slamming in my chest, a hand flying to my throat.
“Looking for something?” He stands behind me, and I spin, the skirt whirling around my thighs. Hadrion stands there, eyebrow cocked.
“Oh, um, no, no, just looking, I wanted to see the rest of the house,” I babble, and he moves past me, to the doors of the dining room.
“Come along, Katy.”
I follow him, reluctant and uncertain. The ceiling in the dining room goes past twelve feet, a chandelier twinkling above a long table that could seat more people than the bar at our pub. The wood is polished, bare of anything but a simple charcoal-colored runner, and weighed down with platters of food.
My stomach clenches firmly at the sight of muffins, croissants, a whole serving dish of fruit, both in season and out of season. There’s covered dishes, the silver cloches keeping the heat in, although they don’t do anything to stop the delicious aromas from curling up toward me.
I smell eggs, steamed veggies, bacon, and sausage.
“Is there anything you might like that you don’t see?” Hadrion asks as he sits down at the far end of the table. I shake my head, and go to sit down, but he clears his throat.
“Here,” he says, tapping the back of the chair perpendicular to his. I hesitate, then go and sit down.
“Thanks,” I say. “This is all a bit. I’m not really sure what’s happening.”
“Well,” Hadrion says, as he begins to serve up a plate. Sausage, some small round pancakes no larger than a silver dollar, a pile of berries, eggs, and a croissant make up the plate before he sets it down in front of me. “Syrup, butter,” he points at a covered plate, and a silver pitcher.
The girl from upstairs comes into the room, and hurries over to the side-board, and pours me a glass of water, and then juice.
Hadrion waits for her to pour him a cup of coffee, and then she leaves, closing the doors behind her.
There are tall windows in the wall at the far end of the room, and beyond them the city bustles silently to us. The sound-proofing must be incredible in this place. Our trailer... I could hear everything. The rain on the roof, striking the windows, Emi telling our dad how much she hated me and blamed me for everything bad in her life...
“I am not going to rescind my offer from last night,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. He notices me not eating, and nods to my plate. “Are you not hungry?” Then he frowns. “Is your hand hurting you?”
I blink at him and look down at my hand. It’s still wrapped in gauze, but is curiously feeling much better. I flex it lightly and shake my head.
“No.”
“Then eat,” he orders me, tone firm. My shoulders shrink in and I lift my fork. “After breakfast, we can get you some shoes and whatever else you need. We can even get your things from your home if you’d like. I’d rather not, given what happened last night, but...” He shrugs. “You must have something of value there.” His eyes linger on me, dropping down to my chest again, and I shift nervously. I need a bra. Badly.
