“I love you,” I said, knowing I’d do anything for her. Lie, cheat, steal. Lock her up. Whatever it took. “And I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”
Her smile was tremulous. “I love you, too. Always.”
“Then I’ll see you when it’s over, okay?”
“When it’s over,” she agreed.
At that, I turned away, and locked her door behind me.
2.
I’d made it halfway across the house and was hurrying down a hallway lined with tatty velvet wallpaper when I ran into a housemaid.
She stood motionless in the middle of the corridor. Broken white chunks littered the carpet at her feet—remnants of a plaster bust that had clearly taken a dive from its pedestal.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered in horror. “I was dusting, and heard the thunder, and...” Her throat worked as she aimed a helpless glance at me.
I surveyed the wreckage. The sculpture had been worthless, like everything else in this house, but Olivian would rage over its demise, regardless. Olivian raged overeverything. But right now, that was the least of our concerns.
“Worry about it later,” I said. “For now, just get to your room. Chain up.”
As if in warning, thunder rumbled, making the wall-sconces flicker. Their anemic light did little to dispel the darkness—already, the nightmare permeated the house, driving the candleglow into retreat.
“But the seneschal,” the housemaid warbled. “If he sees this, he’ll fire me. And then I won’t be able to—” She bit her lip, cutting herself off.
I took her measure. We weren’t friendly, exactly, but I was fairly sure her name was Althea. I also knew what she’d hesitated to say—that she had family in town, two young brothers she routinely snuck food to.
Yet another thing Olivian would’ve raged about, if he’d known. Here in the seneschal’s house, we could barely feed ourselves. But the townspeople were no better off than we were, and Althea’s brothers relied on her.
“I won’t tell,” I said. “He won’t know it was you.”
“But—”
“Harlowe,” someone barked.
I startled. Down the hall, a hulking shape emerged from the shadows.
My stomach dropped—Olivian was coming, and if he saw this mess, he’d do as Althea had said. He’d dismiss her. Her brothers would starve, and while I didn’t care for the people of Oceansgate, those boys were only innocent children.
“Go,” I hissed. “Before he sees.”
Althea’s eyes widened. “But he’ll think you did this.”
“So let him.”
She hesitated a moment longer, but when thunder boomed and the shadows clawed their way up the walls, she choked out a thank-you and fled.
And only just in time. The seneschal stopped before me, a bear of a man with bloodshot eyes and thick black hair that defied gravity. His morning coat was as rumpled as the rest of him, and spittle flecked his beard, as if he’d just concluded a screaming match with some unfortunate soul. “Harlowe.”
“Olivian.”
His gaze flicked to the wreckage at my feet. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“It was an accident. I was on my way to sound the bells and bumped into a pedestal.”
Anger blazed in his eyes, so I squared my shoulders and drew myself up to my full height. Olivian wouldn’t fire me like he would Althea. At least, Ihopednot.
“Did you secure my daughter, at least?” he snapped.
