Frigid hands brushed my neck as she undid the braid and drew the comb through the strands. Having never interacted with many people besides Merelda and my neighbors, I wasn’t necessarily good at anything beyond easy, quick conversation.
With my motives, this was certainlynotan easy, quick conversation.
I cleared my throat. “Do you only stay in this hallway, or do you go to other parts of the Citadel?”
“I service rooms in other areas.”
My scalp tingled as the comb passed again. The sensation reminded me of when Merelda braided my hair. Though it was a rare occurrence now, she’d ask to do it every so often, as if it reminded her of my younger years. An ache blossomed beneath my sternum.
You’ll be back with her soon.
“Do you like it? Here in the Citadel?”
“I do,” she answered.
“I’d never been to a Citadel, or even a city, before coming here. I’m from a small village. Were you born here?”
“No. I came from a small village, too.”
With any luck, the commonality would make me feel more relatable. “The big walls and rooms and gardens are new to me. I’m sure you probably felt the same way when you first came.” I paused as she set the comb down and began sectioning my hair. “What’s your favorite part about this place?”
“Princeps Harthon is good to us. I like working for him.”
That brought my information-seeking mission to a screeching halt. Skittish, nervous Frannie liked working under Harthon?
“Were you already working here when he took over?”
“Mhm.” She began to plait the hair, beginning at the top of my head.
She’d witnessed his takeover—an assumably violent one—and yet she liked him. Not really believing that was possible, I pushed. “So even after he forced his way in here and killed the previous Princeps, you enjoy working for him?”
“I do. Tamen was,” she exhaled a shuddered breath, “mean. Harthon cares about us.”
Surprise temporarily silenced me. It was already an anomaly for a Princeps to give a damn about anyone below them, but for that Princeps to beHarthon?With all his brooding seriousness and his penchant for killing?
Unusual or not, he’s still terrible.
Caring for house staff didn’t make him a noble man.
Refocusing, I asked, “So aside from Harthon, what’s your favorite part about this place?”
“It’s a good place to work.”
“When you aren’t working, though. Where do you like to be? I feel like if I were you, I would spend as much time in that garden as I could.” As I spoke, I watched the door from the corner of my eye, wondering if the guard would peel himself off the wall and intervene.He didn’t.
“I can’t go into the garden. It’s only for the people who work in the kitchen.”
“That’s disappointing. There’s no way you could sneak in if you wanted to?”
Frannie’s sigh suggested that she was getting at least somewhat comfortable with the conversation. “I would never sneak. They put you on laundry duty for the soldiers’ clothes, and it’s the worst thing in the world.”
“You seem way too nice to have to do that.”
She might have smiled. “They don’t care if you’re nice.”
“Is it really that easy to be caught?”
“Yes. The kitchen is the only access, and it’s busy all day. At night, there’s the guard in the garden so no one causes trouble with the crops.”
