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I MEANT TO RISE bright and early, but a restless night thwarted that plan. It’s well past the breakfast hour once I’ve made myself presentable according to Mistress Ell’s standards and stumble downstairs in emerald green silk.
Mary’s seated at the kitchen table with a pot of tea. “There are warm buns in the lower oven,” she says.
“Thanks.” I help myself to a bun, tearing off small chunks and shoving them dry into my mouth.
“Sit.” She pours a second cup of tea, lemon grass by the smell of it, and pushes it to a setting across from her. “It’s bad for your digestion to stand and eat.”
This whole damn reality is bad for my digestion.
I join her at the table because I can’t exactly explain why I don’t have time to sit and drink tea. I have less than two hours to get to the waterfall and be back before noon if I want to see Kane.
‘Want’ is the wrong word.
The very last thing I want is to look Kane in the eye. It’s his face that haunted most of my dreams last night, that stare that went straight through me. But we have to talk. We have to do something. I am not living out the rest of my life like this.
I sneak little glances at Mary as I sip on my tea. She must be at least fifty, maybe older. She has practically lived her life like this.
“Were you a house Silk here before the buffet?” I ask.
“In the House of Ell?” Her eyes lift to me. “Of course not. I was with Lord Rustward’s household.”
“Is it the same?” I can’t bring myself to be more descriptive. “Being a house Silk and buffet Silk? I mean, the way they feed?”
“You don’t have to worry about the buffet.”
“I will once the prince is finished with me,” I remind her. “Lorene—Silk Lorene told me.”
“That one has a bubble bath in her head, always drawing conclusions without asking all the proper questions.” She drains the last of her tea and sets the cup down in its saucer. “The Elite Guard are of direct royal descent. They hunt fresh Silks and don’t share until they’re done. They never feed from the buffet. Royalty do not dine on leftovers.”
Another word to add to my hate list. Leftovers.
Mary folds her arms and looks at me.
“What?”
“The prince takes it one step further. He doesn’t allow the general populace to dine on his leftovers. Silks from the House of Ell are passed on to the king.”
It takes a moment for me to wrap my head around what she’s saying. “Okay, we become the king’s Silks, and then? Where do we go when the king is done with us?”
“Not to the buffet,” she says. “Perhaps the king never tires of dining on the same Silks.”
So we retire gracefully to the king’s blood harem? Somehow, I don’t think so. “Why would the king take the prince’s leftovers? Have you ever seen this king?”
“I’ve never seen any elite beside Lord Rustward. I was confined to his property while I was his, then my life was the barracks and...” she glances around the kitchen “...this. Vampyres are creatures of the night. Very few are awake during the day and we have to be inside the barracks by sunset.” She scrapes her chair back and stands. “There you have it. That’s as much as I know and I have to start the preparations for lunch.”
I’d push for more, but I have somewhere else to be. And I need to go alone. “Has Silk Lorene been down for breakfast?”
Mary shakes her head. “It must have been a late night.”
Wonderful.
I slip out through the parlor, only to be accosted by Amanda the moment I set foot on the porch.
She’s leaning against a white-washed post, literally waiting for me. “There you are.”
“Morning.” Didn’t Lorene say she never puts in an appearance before noon? “Everything okay?”
“Let’s walk,” she says, holding out an arm to link in mine.
I don’t take it. “No offense, but I’m not in the mood for company this morning.”
She drops her arm and saunters down the steps. “Trust me, it will be worth your while.”
I blow out a frustrated sigh and follow her around the side of the house and into the woods beyond the garden.
Two minutes, then I’m ditching her. “Where are we going?”
“You left early last night.”
“I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Well, you missed the part about Silk Lorene not returning home with us.”
A coldness passes over me, a shadow of death. “What happened?”
“The prince lost his taste for her,” Amanda declares. “Last month’s flavor and all that.”
“Don’t do that.” My footsteps slow to a dragging halt, a scowl digging into her back. “Lorene isn’t just a Silk or a flavor or some leftover. She’s human. She’s a person, just you like you and me.”
Amanda swings around, regarding me with a somber expression that belies her callous remarks. “You’re right. She is. And it seems Lorene was right about our mysterious man at the banquet. She left with him and the prince would never let one of his Silks go to anyone else.”
“The king.” The cold shadow evaporates from my skin. “I guess it’s better than the buffet. Lorene wasn’t looking forward to that.”
“Speaking of the prince...” She retraces her steps back to me with a playful, hip-swaying stride. “You were very chatty with him last night. You know what they say. The brightest flame burns out the fastest. You may want to take care.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She loses the swagger, her voice softening, “I’m looking out for you.”
“Sorry,” I breathe out. It’s not her fault I’m impatient to be somewhere else. “I’m crappy this morning. I really need to walk it off alone.”
“I overhead you and Mary in the kitchen yesterday,” she says. “If you still wish to see your friend in the barracks, I may be able to help.”
My heart blips. “How?”
“There’s someone you should meet,” she says, turning from me. “Come.”
“Who?” My feet remain firmly planted. “Where are we going?”
She glances over her shoulder. “You’ll see soon enough.”
“I’m not going anywhere without a better explanation.”
“Probably the wise choice.” Her smile is artless. She meets my stare without flinching. “It’s much safer if you just forget about that friend of yours.”
I stare at her. Hard. But I can’t read any bad intentions lurking behind her pretty face. “Okay, fine!”
She hitches an amused brow.
“I need to see Gabe,” I say defensively.
“You don’t need to see him.” She looks forward again and presses onward through the woodland. “You want to see him. There’s a difference.”
If my bearings are right, we’re crossing through the woods between the river and barracks. At least it’s somewhat in the right direction. “Why are you helping me?”
“Not for free.” She shoots me a smile. “Why is Kane Marques here? How is he here?”
Ah... Luckily, the less I tell Amanda, the more believable it will be. She’s known Kane far longer than I have. “He’s not exactly the kind of guy to spill his dark secrets to strangers.”
“Oh, please, I saw that little interaction between you two last night.”
“We were Tithed together,” I admit. “He looked out for me.”
She processes that, then shrugs. “That sounds like Kane.”
“It doesn’t mean he confides in me.”
“But he was Tithed with you,” she says. “That’s remarkable, since he was also in my Tithe year.”
“All I can tell you is what he told us,” I say, and give her the story Kane told us in the cave. I leave out the part about him being an Alder, just in case the Silks really don’t talk between the houses and he’s able to keep that quiet.
“So now Ironcross is banishing people? And Kane supposedly committed a hanging offense?” She laughs it off, shaking her head. “Yeah, sure.”
“That’s what he told us,” I say. “If there’s something else to his story, you’ll have to ask him.”
“Maybe I will.”
We push through a thicket of bush and the ground suddenly slopes away. My foot twists out from under me with a slide of dirt.
Amanda grabs my arm, yanking me back to level ground. “Careful.”
My heart is clattering from the misstep and she’s smirking with a knowing look. “A warning next time would be great.”
“Don’t be such a baby.” She purses her lips, considering me. “What you’re about to do breaks every rule in the book. You know there are risks, right?”
“Falling to my death included?”
“I’m serious, Senna. This isn’t a game.” She glances down the embankment to where the semblance of a path is provided by shrubs and roots to hold onto. “Are you absolutely sure about this? There’s still time to change your mind and forget about the boy.”
Forgetting Gabe is not an option. It never will be. “I’m sure.”
She acquiesces with a slow nod. “Off you go. There’s an outcrop at the bottom where you’ll be met. Say I sent you. It’ll be okay.”