“What about our chores?” I knew I looked panicked. But it wasn’t only my chores I was worried about having time for.
“Oh, we’ll be expected to keep up with those, too. When they’re sleeping or bathing.” She quirked a bronze eyebrow. “Why d’you think Miss Haney’s been so frantic? And Tigo working extra time in the gardens? Because he knows he’ll have so little now.”
Unseen, I dug my nails into my palms. I’d hoped now that the Cormorants were here, everyone would be distracted seeing to the guests and I’d have more opportunities for sneaking around. Instead, it seemed, I might not have any at all.
“That does seem stupid,” I said in a forced monotone, and followed her up the steps into the keep.
—
Vercha led us through to the room she’d called the snug, where a fire crackled cheerily in the grate, and the wolfhounds, who’d been basking in front of it, shot up and bounded around the visitors’ ankles. I was acutely conscious of the clock’s loud ticking. I needed to get to the culverhouse. Today.
“I can’t tell you how gratifying it is to see your faces,” said Avrix Cormorant, throwing himself into a chair. His sister stayed standing, peering from the windows. “And that crossing—the sea breeze, the view over the bay…I feel rejuvenated already.” He grinned at the siblings.
The Cormorants’ Orha lined up along the wall, beneath a portrait of a Shearwater ancestor. Their movements were practiced, almostautomatic. Clearly, the twins were social people. I followed Tigo and Mawre’s lead, joining them on the opposite wall. Rhianne padded over to murmur into the hearth—I was sorry I didn’t have her excuse to sidle off.
As Vercha poured tea, the other siblings took up positions on the couches.
“It was snowing when you were last here, wasn’t it? Do you remember?” Emment leaned forward, a glint in his eyes. “You accidentally caught Father with a snowball meant for me.”
“My gods,” Avrix said. “Idoremember.” He laughed, a rich peal that seemed to warm the room.
Morgen was patrolling, inspecting the portraits. As she stopped in front of me, my skin went taut.
“Thisone’s new,” she murmured, gazing at me. Her skin was flawless, glowing in the firelight, her eyes dark pools ringed by thick lashes.
Vercha had come up behind her with her tea. “Corith’s just wonderful,” the Shearwater said sweetly. “Our housekeeper says she’d be lost without her.”
“What happened to that grizzled old lady you had?”
“Muiry? Oh, she got sick, poor lamb. Went to a brewery in Lanniton, I think. Somewhere she could sit down and work.”
Morgen made a sympathetic noise as nausea clawed its way up from my belly.
“We had a terrible time last month, before Corith,” Vercha said, not even lowering her voice. “The first girl they sent…” She glanced behind her. “Well, let’s just say that was ashort-livedplacement.”
The atmosphere in the room cooled, turned brittle. Llir threw a knifelike glance at his sister as Emment’s jaw clenched and his teacup rattled.
“You sometimes get duds,” Morgen said airily.
My eyes flashed to her. I was coiled like a spring.
“Well, in any case,” the Cormorant continued, clearly sensing she’d trodden in murky waters, “this one looks hale enough, if a little skinny.” She smiled at me. “I wish you every happiness here.”
“Great gods,” came Avrix’s voice. He was lounging in his chair, patting one of the wolfhounds. “Leave the poor girl alone, will you, Morgen? She’s not a new painting.” He shot me a small wink.
Despite myself, I felt a flicker of gratitude. It had taken everything I had to remain impassive; I wasn’t sure I had a shred of restraint left.
“Now, look,” Avrix continued, jumping up and staring out into the bay. “We simplymustget back out on that water—and take advantage of this excellent weather. What do you say we meet down there tomorrow and give your father’s sailing boats a spin?”
Morgen clapped and circled the couches. “Not just a spin—a race. I demand it. Let’s see how your Orha measure up!”
“We can take the dogs out,” Catua said with a grin. “They love a splash around.” The hounds’ tails thumped.
Renewed anxiety crept back in, chasing the wisps of relief from my midriff.Sailing.That was the Floodmouths’ purview, though Mawre and the Cormorants’ Gustmouth would help.
“It’s settled, then,” said Avrix, sitting back down. “Now. Where are those pastries you promised us?”
—
