The rest dissolves into distance.
I stay where I am a moment longer, my pulse steady but heavier than it was before.
Unstable. A burden. Burning out rather than fading away. They talk about him like he’s already decided on his fate.
I shake the thought off, pushing it down where it belongs.
Not my concern. Not my problem. What do I care about some Ink-blooded, knife-eared noble? I should care what happens to him because he sometimes chooses not to beat the servants? Because he has great shoulders and eyes that could immolate a phoenix--
“Cutter.”
Fenrix’s voice snaps me back. The sweat on my brow has more than fear as its font. I straighten immediately, forcing a look of placid weariness on my face.
“Yes?”
He’s closer than I expected. Of course he is.
“Where were you just now?” he asks.
“Doing my job.”
“Mm.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Stay where you’re supposed to,” he says, stepping closer. “You don’t want to be seen wandering when the nobles start arriving.”
“I wasn’t wandering.”
He leans in slightly, just enough that his shadow cuts across my hands.
“Then don’tlooklike you are.”
My jaw tightens. “I don’t follow you.”
He studies me for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then?—
“Stay invisible,” he says quietly. “You understand?”
I meet his gaze. Just for a second.
“I always do.”
“Do you?” he asks softly.
My fingers curl slightly against my palm, the gritty dirt crumbling.
“I understand, Overseer.”
“Good. You are a smart one--perhaps too smart. It is good to avoid drawing their attention.”
He straightens, stepping back.
“Because they’re not like me,” he adds, almost casually. “They lack even a modicum of mercy for your kind. They will not care how efficient your labors, if they decide your death is necessary--or merely entertaining.”
I know all of this already.vBut I don’t say that.
He turns and walks off, already calling orders to someone else.
