“Her name is Ivetta,” Clavis said, bursting into my office. “And she’ll be very entertaining.”
I didn’t bother looking up from the document I’d been skimming. I could picture the wide grin on his face just as well as I could picture Nokto’s head snapping up from his stack of paperwork.
“Who are you talking about?” he asked.
“Chev’s new maid. Well, she’s not assigned to him, just the library. I checked.” Clavis sat on an empty corner of my desk, leaning over to see the papers in front of me. “Marge is disappointed you didn’t scare her away, Chev. Losing your touch?”
“What does she look like?” Nokto pressed Clavis. He had only one thing on his mind where women were concerned, as usual.
“She’s a pretty little thing. Short—can’t be much over five feet. Long, straight black hair, bright green eyes, slim build, with all the right curves in all the right places.”
I wouldn’t have worded it the same way, but it was an accurate description. And guaranteed to make Nokto drool.
“Hm, I may have to pay a visit to the library,” he mused.
“After you finish your work,” I interjected, giving him a pointed glare.
His sly smile didn't dim, nor did the light in his crimson eyes. He shrugged, his messy silver hair brushing the shoulder of his white jacket. “Of course, King Highness. Anything else I should know about her, Clavis?”
“Well, she’s a little jumpy. I suppose you gave her a fright yesterday, huh, Chev?” Clavis laughed. “Not enough of a fright, though. She was cleaning your library when I found her, and she had the audacity to shoo me away so she could get back to work!”
I turned to the built-in bookcase separating the windows behind me and selected a heavy reference textbook. Clavis vacated his spot on the desk just before I dropped it there.
“If you have nothing of importance to say, you have your own work to do.”
“You don’t mind her being in your library without your permission?” Nokto asked. “Or did you give her permission?”
“No, he didn’t. She said as much,” Clavis said, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the desk. “But he complimented her yesterday. Called her ‘efficient.’ I think our dear older brother may have finally found an interest in women. Or at least this woman.”
What a laugh. “I leave the pointless womanizing to those with lesser ambitions.”
Nokto leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark blue tie was loose around the collar of his white shirt, which he hadn’t tucked into his dark gray pants, and he’d neglected fastening the top button of his shirt. He was always fresh out of bed or ready to fall into it with his next conquest, as the case may be. “Sounds like she’s fair game to me.”
“What you do in your spare time is none of my affair.” I pushed a stack of paperwork toward Clavis.
“I did a little digging, of course,” he continued, opening the book. “She didn’t tell Marge much, which is why our beloved head maid took a dislike to her. No last name, no list of references, and she was very particular about her hours. Eight to five every day, and she requires advance notice if she has to come early or stay late for special events.”
“Hm, shrewd businesswoman,” Nokto commented.
“I couldn’t find much about her either, although I have a few more threads to pull. Still no last name, no father, just her and her mother scraping by on odd jobs in that little village west of the capital city. Her mother, Evelyn, showed up pregnant twenty or so years ago, and nobody knows anything about her before that.”
“Prostitute?”
“That’s the rumor. No evidence of prostitution here, though, and they’re both active churchgoers. Evelyn is sick now and can’t work, which is why our new little dove has alighted in our lair.”
That explained a lot, such as why she felt the need to put up a brave front, and why she wouldn’t budge on her hours. And Evelyn was a common Garnetian name. Garnet fell to Obsidian nineteen years ago, and that fit with the timeframe. Rather than a prostitute, her mother was more likely an escaped noblewoman in hiding, thus also providing a plausible explanation for her cultured speech and mannerisms.
But given her impoverished upbringing, trading on favors wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, hence her suggestion I could think of something to do with her if I let her live. Fortunately for her, I had no intention of taking advantage of that offer. Not in that way.
As usual, I finished my work well before Clavis and Nokto, and I glanced at the clock as I stood to go. Almost two-thirty, the same time I’d visited the library yesterday. This wouldn’t last, of course. Most of the time, I couldn’t escape there until evening. But I’d been planning to go there earlier today. There was the matter of the maid’s hours to discuss. I didn’t care if she left at five o’clock every day, but she needed to know I made the rules, not her.
She was humming again when I arrived. I caught the last strains of it before she heard the door open and stopped, turning to look at me from her perch atop a ladder. A precarious position, but she didn’t lose her balance.
‘Little dove,’ Clavis had called her. It suited her.
“I’ll be done in a moment, Prince Chevalier. Would you like me to bring you a cup of tea?”
Anticipating my needs. She was outpacing any maid I’d ever had before, even with her faults. “So you can be trained.”
Her green eyes flashed. She pressed her lips together, but she held her silence, turning her back on me and finishing her self-assigned task of window washing. I smirked to myself and went to the back of the library, glancing at her before she disappeared from view. She was already descending the ladder with a grace that reinforced my guess at her noble background.
I wondered if she knew.
The back room smelled of wood polish and soap. She’d put in quite a bit of work here before I arrived, but nothing appeared to be disturbed. Even the lamp sat in the exact location on the end table it had occupied yesterday. It was as if the dust had disappeared.
No, I didn’t mind her being here, which was why I hadn’t forbidden her yesterday from entering this room in my absence—a little detail she had picked up on.
Careful, thorough, and attentive. Now, how to add ‘subservient’ to that list?
I was in my chair, reading, when she returned. She set the teacup on the end table next to me and stepped back. “Is there anything else you need from me, Your Highness?”
I looked up at her, studying her posture. Tense, wary.
“The head maid does not set your hours. I do. You will stay as late as is necessary.”
She frowned. “It would seem there was a lot she didn’t tell me. I regret to inform you I can’t stay past five o’clock, Your Highness.”
“Then you are refusing my direct order?”
“Perhaps you don’t understand, Your Highness. I don’t live here in the palace, and there are certain circumstances that don’t allow me to stay late. I’m happy to do whatever you like during the hours I’d agreed to with the head maid.”
I was well aware of her circumstances, but she didn't know that, and the issue here was her refusal to obey. I set the book down and stood. She took a step back.
“Perhaps you don’t understand.” I walked toward her, but she held her ground this time, although she flinched when I took her chin in my hand. “It is in your best interest to do as I say.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I realize that, Your Highness, but as I said, I cannot comply with this matter.”
“And why is that?” I slid my finger down her neck. Her bounding pulse betrayed the fear she was working hard to hide.
“It isn’t any of your business, Your Highness, but my mother is ill and requires a lot of care. As her only family member, that responsibility falls to me.”
I traced a finger up and down her neck. She flinched again.
“I see. You have explained your reason for defying me, but you have not yet explained how I would benefit if I consented to your demands.”
Her thoughts were racing behind her clear green eyes again. I smirked and added more fingers to the dance across her skin. This was becoming less about discipline and more about curiosity. How would she try to get out of this?
“Prince Chevalier, do you have a personal attendant?” she asked, her voice quiet and measured.
“I have a palace full of servants, all of whom will do as I say at a moment’s notice. Is that all you can offer me?”
She swallowed again. “I know of nothing else, Your Highness. If that isn’t suitable, perhaps you should name your terms.”
A dangerous thing to say, and she knew it. She was brave, and she was clever, but she was still a fragile little woman, all too easy for the wrong man to overpower. Her situation must have been desperate for her to risk such an open invitation.
I slid my fingers back up to her chin and ran my thumb across her full bottom lip. She shivered, but she neither broke eye contact nor pulled away. Her resolve was stronger than her fear.
“You really are a foolish little dove.”
She stared at me. Was that a plea in her eyes? Or a challenge? Either way, she was lucky to have ended up here.
I released her and took a step back, poking her in the forehead. “Start with these boxes.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Interesting. She was unaccustomed to trading favors, then.
I’d received several boxes of new books a few days ago and had yet to integrate them into my collection. Ordering her to do so was another test. My organizational system wasn’t complicated, but books were a luxury for the upper class, and she was at the bottom of the lower class.
But she set to work without hesitation, removing the books from the first box and stacking them into piles based on genre, with little more than a glance at the title and sometimes the first page to guide her. Then she checked the shelf nearest to her, running her finger along the spines as she worked out the rest of my system, before she turned back to the stacks and sorted them according to the author's last name and then the title.
“You are familiar with literature.”
“I enjoy reading when I can, Your Highness.”
She carried the first stack to its corresponding shelf and began slotting the new books into place, and I opened my book to read. It was clear she needed no further supervision.
She worked through the afternoon, stacking the empty boxes in a corner and moving on to the next without so much as a moment’s pause. A few minutes before five o’clock, she slid the last book into place and stood with a sigh of finality.
“I can take one box as I go, but I’ll have to get the rest tomorrow, if that’s alright, Prince Chevalier,” she said, surveying the large, heavy wooden boxes.
I propped an elbow up on the arm of the chair and rested my chin in my hand, surveying her. She was physically stronger than she looked, but there was no reason for me to work her into the ground. “You say that as though I have a choice in the matter.”
Her eyes were nervous when they met mine. She was learning.
“My apologies, Your Highness. It’s a force of habit to ask for permission or approval. What I mean to say is, I’ll get the rest tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. There was a meeting early tomorrow morning, one I’d intended to let Clavis and Nokto handle, but I could wake up early to attend. Though I loathed mornings, it would be another interesting test for her.
And Nokto hadn’t come by this afternoon, which meant he would look for her tomorrow. Using her as an excuse to avoid his work.
“I’ll have breakfast in my room tomorrow.”
She tensed and bit her lip, but she gave me a small nod. “Yes, Your Highness. Will that be all?”
Interesting. She assumed the worst, and yet she was willing to do whatever I demanded of her to maintain her position.
I tapped my empty teacup. “Take this when you go. Leave the boxes.”
She picked it up and offered her polite curtsey. The porcelain in her hand didn’t tilt in the slightest. “Goodnight, Your Highness.”
I kept my chin in my hand for a while after she left, staring at the door and puzzling about her. She was easy to read and still hid quite a lot. I would never have guessed about her mother's illness if Clavis hadn't discovered that bit of information, but my assumption about trading favors was incorrect. She remained innocent in that regard, although wary.
Secretive and expressive; bold and submissive; young and mature; weak and strong.
Ivetta was her name, wasn’t it?
Ivetta. It suited her.207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1MDRWcjoAj
