For now, I had to play by Graysen’s rules. And that meant not giving in to spiteful anger.
As much as I wanted to ignore everyone staring unashamedly at me, I couldn’t. As I walked, I swept my gaze around as if bored, but I noted everything. The large gateway entrancesthat were carved into each side of the Keep, with their iron portcullises that could be drawn down to block access to the inner courtyard. Spied who was coming and going through the wooden doors that led inside the fortress.
I met those blatantly staring at me with my own glacial reply. Graysen wasn’t the only one who could look cold and impassive. I was a godsdamned Wychthorn Princess, a member of royalty within our world.
Amongst the soldiers leaning against the railing of the training pit, there were a few faces I had a vague recollection of, from the time they’d gathered around me like a nightmarish cloak of crows at my family’s temple.
Graysen led me across the courtyard, now deafened with silence but for Sage’s growls. I followed him into a square stairwell with windows cut into the sides, and we climbed upwards. It wasn’t the servants who drew aside to allow us to pass, it was Graysen who shifted aside. They all shot me fleeting glances that darted away before I could hold them.
Staff,not servants.
It was such a strange term. And his mother was right.Staffdid seem more inclusive. It did seem as if they were all part of a team.
They greeted us as they descended, and there was warmth inflected in Graysen’s tone when he addressed them all on a first-name basis, which to my shock they returned. He wasn’t Mr. Crowther—he was Graysen. He asked about their families or their latest trips off the estate. Or they parried with glib shots that drew out a smile or laughter. One of them even teased him about his latest project down in the garage. If it was still sitting there on blocks and in pieces.
And Graysen looked away, bashful, rubbing the back of his head.
I blinked in surprise at seeing him like that.
But when he turned my way, jerking his chin to indicate that we needed to keep moving upwards, the warmth was wiped clean from his expression.
While I climbed the stairs, my thoughts shifted inward. How many servants had I known? Had Ireally knownas a person, not someone picking up after me or serving me meals and refreshments? Our servants were part of the background and served a purpose—to serve me. I had maids and governesses, but there was still a divide between us as my family held the Great House. I knew all the servants at my home by name, but it was, shamefully, a shock to realize I hadn’t truly known them at all, not as it seemed Graysen did. And I couldn’t say for sure what their lives were like beyond what they could do for me.
We’d almost reached the top floor when I collapsed against the wall of the stairwell, needing to catch my breath. My condition had deteriorated while being trapped in his tower, falling ill to hibernation.
Graysen spun, worry shooting through his gaze. “Shit, Wychthorn,” he hissed lowly before descending the stairs.
I held up my hand to stop him from coming too near. Leaning out of the window, my braid swung wildly as I breathed in cool air to quench the fire in my lungs and the burning in my legs. Sage nudged my thigh with his soft muzzle and gave a low whine.
While my body and lungs calmed, I glanced sidelong to find Graysen watching me intently, assessing the rapid rise and fall of my chest.
“Where do you…” and I realized he didn’t live in the Keep, he lived in the tower, and I wondered why he sequestered himself away from his family. I attempted again, between puffs of breath. “Where does your family reside?”
He blinked, then turned his attention to the gap in the wall, drawing closer. “Right above the heart of the Keep.” He pointed to the south side of the fortress, near its front entrance. I tried toignore his body heat by mentally noting what he’d shared. Later on, I’d add it to my growing list of everything I knew about this place in my notepad.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” he said, frowning down at me as he leaned a shoulder against the wall.
I shook my head, turning to face him. “We’re almost there.” And I didn’t want to cut my time outside of the tower short either. “Come on,” I urged, and pushed off on slightly rubbery legs. He allowed me to go ahead of him, and as I walked past, our shoulders brushed one another, and a zing crackled through my body. His too, if the molten desire he quickly banked and the way he sawed his jaw was any sign.
I ascended slowly, each step drawing me closer to the topmost floor. When I reached it, I stepped out onto a long, uncovered veranda that stretched the full length of this end of the fortress. Set back slightly from the walkway was a sun-bleached wooden fence with horizontal slats and tall wrought-iron gates.
The terrace railing was smoother than the rest of the weatherworn structure. My fingers curled around its edge, and I leaned out, peering down. There were four levels in a tiered structure, and each level below extended further from the one directly above. I gazed down in wonder at the private patios dotting each tier.
Graysen stood back and let me drift down the walkway, my wraith-wolf following behind. I peeked through a gate and realized that the design allowed light to flood the small patio right through to the bi-folding doors and banks of windows into a home.
Homes.
The servant’s residences had been built like an apartment block.
The metal gate was sun-warmed beneath my fingers, the fretting delicate. A picture was forged in steel by themetalworker of rolling hills, trees, and a lake. Every gate had been individually crafted from the next, yet they all carried a woodland theme.
“My aunt designed these,” Graysen said.
My spine locked and my jaw clenched. I jerked my hand away as if the metal burned red-hot. I didn’t care for Valarie, and I didn’t want to get to know this side of her. An artistic side. A human side.
“We made modifications throughout the centuries to keep up with the times and renovated, adding to the Keep to house more family, more staff too. Everyone has their own apartment, and private space, a patio of sorts.”
I blinked, my mouth falling open. “Every single servant?” I shook my head, adjusting my mind to the term the Crowthers preferred. “I mean, staff?”
