I just wanted to read. Alone. I didn’t want to talk to anybody; I didn’t want to hear anybody; and I certainly didn’t want to see anybody.
Leon had accosted me in the hallway before I even made it to my office, yelling about my latest purge. He’d change his tune once he knew all the details surrounding that unfortunate event.
If I ever told him.
If Obsidian didn’t win this time.
The near invasion, the arms dealing, the new weapons development, the informant—everything was a mess.
Except for the library.
Of all days for the head maid to insist upon having the library cleaned.
The smell of wood polish assaulted my nostrils as soon as I opened the large wooden door carved with intricate ivy leaves. If that old woman had any sense, she would have ordered the maids to be done before I arrived, but she had little sense to speak of.
I scanned the room. The candles in the large central chandelier were dark, as were the smaller chandeliers radiating out from it, but an ample amount of sunlight poured in from the many windows along the southern wall. Its rays reflected off of the polished bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling and the free-standing shelves scattered about. Even the woodwork on the ornate sofas, chairs, and coffee tables glistened.
At least the maids were thorough this time.
My eyes landed on an abandoned book.
I sighed and crossed the wood floor toward the alcove below the central, largest window, my booted footsteps muted by an occasional rug imitating a rose in bloom. No maid was worth the value of a book. The one left on the window seat was a volume of short stories; not one of mine, but it belonged on a shelf, and the librarian should have attended to it.
Except his station at the intake desk was empty. I could only attribute the neatness of the stacks on his desk to the maids, who had done their duty and left.
That man’s incompetence grated on my nerves.
I bypassed the desk and slotted the book into its place on the eastern wall. Third shelf from the left, fifth up, sixteenth book in the row. Quicker than waiting for the librarian to put it away. If he had been in charge of my books, I would have terminated his position long ago, but he knew enough to leave me and my personal collection alone. A satisfactory replacement who could do the same had yet to be found.
I strode toward the back of the library and the hidden door to my inner sanctum, my irritation growing—and then I saw the door to my private library was open.
Had the head maid lost her mind?
She and the other servants knew better than to enter that room without my permission. I managed the cleaning and upkeep of all my private spaces within the palace, my grandfather’s estate, and everywhere I lingered longer than twenty-four hours. Such an arrangement made it easier for me to prevent certain modes of assassination.
Or had she hired a new maid?
That stupid woman needed to grow a backbone and refuse employment of those she disliked. I shouldn’t have to drive them away for her.
A soft humming came to my ears as I approached the doorway.
She stood with her back to me as she dusted the shelves, the glossy strands of her long, black ponytail catching the sunlight streaming through the window. The short-sleeved, knee-length black dress clothing her petite frame looked dull by comparison. A white apron tied in a neat bow around her slender waist completed the look.
A stiff breeze could have blown her away. Sending her to me was overkill.
“Get out.”
She jumped and spun to face me. If she didn’t know who I was, she should at least recognize royalty when she saw it—and she should know better than to look at me with clear irritation. But that was what I saw in her bright green eyes as she examined me.
The foolish creature had taken offense. I could snap her like a twig, but she had to bite her lip to keep herself from speaking out of turn.
“You have something to say to me?”
She dropped her gaze to the floor. “No, Your Highness,” she said, feigning meekness with a voice as soft as the coo of a dove.
“A wise decision.” I selected a book at random and went to my chair, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she left the room. “Shut the door.”
The likelihood of her being a spy was low, given the way she had already drawn excessive attention to herself, but I left the book on the end table next to my chair and performed a perfunctory check of the room as a precaution.
Clean. Literally.
Three out of four floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookshelves were spotless, and with not a book out of place. She was industrious and observant. Perhaps I could attribute the book in the alcove and the librarian’s neatened piles to her. Possibly even all the work done in the main library.
I returned to the book and my chair. This one might be of interest.
A couple of hours later, the faint scent of soap and the squelching of a mop came to me from the main library. I was already on my feet to put my second book away and get a third, and curiosity drove me to open the door. There she was, putting her mop away, with a thin sheen of sweat on her flushed brow. She had been busy.
“Maid.”
Her slim shoulders tensed. She turned to face me and made direct eye contact.
I hadn’t been in the mood to play earlier, but she promised to be an amusing diversion.
I turned and walked back to my chair without another word, watching for her in my peripheral vision as I sat and opened a new book. She followed me, as I’d hoped. I kept my eyes on the book.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
Polite, but without a trace of fear in her voice. How unusual in a servant.
“Bring me a cup of tea.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Would you like cream or sugar?”
Not only could she maintain eye contact with me, she could form a sentence and ask a question of me without falling apart. I raised my eyes from the pages to study her bearing. At first glance, she appeared to be calm, but I noted with satisfaction the first flicker of fear in her clear green eyes.
“What do you think?” I added an edge of threat to my words to better gauge her reaction, and I noted with interest the fear disappearing from her sharpening gaze. Her brows drew together the slightest amount, and she pressed her full lips together.
“I couldn’t presume to say, Your Highness.”
I felt the corner of my lip turning up into a smirk. “Maybe you aren’t as foolish as you look, simpleton. Neither.”
Her eyes flashed. “I don’t appreciate being insulted, Your Highness.”
“Oh?” She was brave; I’d give her that. I closed the book and set it on the end table. “You’re new here, so I’ll give you one chance to rephrase.”
That flicker of fear appeared again, just for a moment, but then it was gone, replaced by irritation.
“I apologize if I was out of line, Your Highness. I’ll be back in a moment with your tea.”
She turned to go, thinking I wouldn’t pick up on the qualifying ‘if’ that only made her statement sound like an apology, but I beat her to the door and slammed it shut. It was time for the brat to learn her manners. I grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her to face me. She tried to step back and hit the door. There was genuine fear in her wide green eyes now.
“That was your chance.” I slid a black-gloved finger under her chin, noting with pleasure the shiver that ran through her as I tilted her face up more. “Now, how shall I dispose of you?”
She stared at me, full lips parted, and I could almost see the thoughts racing behind her eyes. Most people would have crumbled into hysterics by now, but her mind was still operational, still searching for a way out of this.
I slid my finger down to her neck, tracing the curve of her soft, smooth skin, emphasizing her danger. “Go on. Try me.”
A second of silence.
“Wouldn’t it be a waste to dirty your hands because of me, Your Highness?”
No tremor in her quiet voice. What would it take to get her to that point, I wondered?
“There are plenty of ways to get rid of you without making a mess.” I rested all five fingers on her throat and slid them around until my palm was flat on her neck. “Try again.”
Her racing pulse betrayed her fear, and yet she continued her efforts to hide it, though I could see no reason for her to do so. I was almost a full foot taller than her and could extinguish her life with a mere tightening of my hand around her throat; never mind the sword at my side. She couldn’t hope to fight me. Why did she feel the need to pretend?
“I’ll be of no use to you if I’m dead, Your Highness.”
If I’d meant to kill her, it was a good point. She was clever.
“And what use do I have for a maid who doesn’t know her place?”
She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I’m sure you can think of something, Your Highness.”
I slid my fingers up to either side of her jaw, tilting her face up further and preventing her from looking off to the side. She knew what she’d just said. I saw something wavering in her willful gaze, but she said nothing to qualify that complete license to do with her whatever I wished.
Not that I needed her permission.
“You really are foolish. But even a fool can serve a purpose.” I released her and stepped back, then poked her in the forehead with my index finger. “My tea, then.”
She was trembling now, and that tremor finally crept into her voice even as she fought to keep it out. “Yes, Your Highness.”
I watched her leave, smiling to myself with satisfaction. Anybody else wouldn’t come back. But she would.
And she didn’t disappoint me.
I was back in my chair when she returned, and although I didn’t look up from my book to acknowledge her, I studied her in my peripheral vision. She bore a small silver tray and a single teacup; nothing more, nothing less. She obeyed my orders to the letter, despite her fear.
“Will there be anything else before I go, Your Highness?”
“Go?” I looked up at her as I reached for the teacup. “I haven’t dismissed you.”
Her fear of me was growing, but she still met my eyes without flinching. “I have an arrangement with the head maid, Your Highness. I leave at five o’clock.”
Then she wouldn’t be moving into the servants’ quarters. I took a sip of tea, considering. The head maid wouldn’t have told her I was her new employer, expecting me to scare her away within the first few minutes of meeting me. But that old woman had met her match. And since this library was my domain, this maid would answer to my demands, not the head maid’s.
“We’ll see about that. You’re free to go. Tonight.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Goodnight.”
She dropped into a neat curtsey that could have put many a noblewoman to shame and left.
I took another sip of tea. She’d chosen a teacup painted with exquisite red roses. The ornate silver tray was unnecessary for a single cup of tea, but this again displayed her attention to detail. And her speech was correct. With a little polishing, her manners would be impeccable.
How amenable would she be to further discipline, I wondered?
It would be interesting to test her limits.
I sipped my tea and read in silence for an indeterminate amount of time before Clavis arrived. He’d done this since we were children, finding me and prattling on about this or that whenever he felt the urge to annoy me, often when I least wanted to see him.
I ignored him, as usual, and he carried on a one-sided conversation, as usual.
“I heard Marge hired you a new maid. Nice of you not to kill her and ruin her cleaning job with blood spatter,” he said. I could imagine him running a brown-gloved finger across a shelf. “We made a big enough mess the other day.”
That would make quite a test. How would she react to me, returning from a skirmish at the border and covered in blood? Most fainted or fled in fear at the sight.
“I suppose I’ll check this one out, although I shouldn't even bother.” He leaned against a shelf and crossed his blue boots at the ankles. “Since I’m sure you’ve chased her off already. What was she like? Young, old, thin, fat, pretty, ugly?”
She had a youthful look about her, but perhaps she was one who always looked younger than her age. With her level of control and maturity, I would guess she was in her twenties.
Not that her age or appearance mattered.
“Efficient,” I replied.
“What’s this? A compliment? Don’t tell me you actually like this one?” Clavis laughed. “I don’t suppose you caught her name while you were observing her ‘efficiency.’”
I could picture his glittering golden eyes and annoying smirk without looking at him.
“Her name is inconsequential.”
“To you. But if you want me to check her background, it’s need-to-know information for me. ”
I sighed and looked up at him. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, the violet sleeves of his jacket pulled back to expose the crisp white cuffs of his shirt, and when he shifted his weight, the brown leather of his sword belt squeaked across his white pants. Not a single midnight-blue hair out of place. To all appearances, a perfect gentleman.
Introducing him to that maid would be another revealing test.
“Do as you wish.”
“I always do.” He smirked and pushed off from the shelf, onto the promise of something more entertaining than me. “Guess I’ll pay Marge a visit. Later, Chev.”
His white cloak billowed behind him as he left, his stride full of vim and vigor. He would find that maid quite entertaining. And attractive. He preferred women with shapely legs.
I smirked and returned to my book. One way or another, she promised to make for a much-needed diversion.
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