Page 20 of Shadows and Roses

The Master didn’t look up from the papers in his hands as Castien entered the room. Castien bowed deeply anyway.

"Sit." Octavius' voice matched his appearance in a low, almost angry growl. "Master Marlow sent you here for not sleeping well?"

"That is correct, sir."

"Why?" He finally raised his head, staring directly into Castien’s eyes. The cold frown seemed a permanent fixture on this man’s face. They were also the eyes of a predator.

"I’m… adjusting slowly, I think. The nobles demand more than I’m accustomed to." More than should be allowed.

"Are they harming you? You can walk fine. Any injuries?" Dark eyes briefly flickered over his body in a detached examination.

"No, sir." None worth mentioning. Even in his House, he suffered the occasional scratch.

"Any adverse reactions to the contraceptives?"

"No, they're the same as the Night Courts’."

"Then what is so difficult, boy?" he snapped.

Castien frowned. Was this man somehow oblivious to the court’s activities or so hardened to it that he didn’t find the injuries on his patients alarming?

Octavius thrust out his arm and smacked his bracer. "Do you know what this means? I’m an Escort. I answer only to the Queen. Whatever a noble commands does not apply to me. Talk."

That hadn't been his concern; he doubted the courtiers cared what he said. Glancing at the bracer, Castien matched Octavius’ irritated stare.

"They butchered a servant in the nobles’ apartments last week. She screamed—did the Queen hear it? Does her death ‘count’? And the slave girl from Nadraken—is she dead as well? Did they tear her apart right there in the dining hall? Why does the Queen—" The words poured from his lips, hot and angry. He stopped as Octavius’ eyes turned cold.

The Master returned to his papers, his tone unbothered. "Butyouare uninjured."

That’s all he had to say? "Yes."

The man's lips twisted in a grimace. "I can't do anything for the dead, boy, and neither can you. Put them from your mind. Come to me if anyone harms you. The Queen doesn't like her property damaged."

"The servants aren’t her property?"

"No. Servants and courtesans belong to the palace. You're special, Night Court boy. Be glad of it. Now get out."

He was glad to leave this heartless bastard’s presence. Before Castien reached the door, the Escort spoke again.

"Don't spread rumors about the dead girl. The servants don't need more to frighten them."

His fists clenched. Castien turned a glare at the Escort. "Do you somehow think they don’t already know? They probably all know before your precious Queen—"

"Watch your tongue, boy. The Queen won't mind ifIstrip your backside."

Castien shut his mouth and bowed stiffly.

Halfway to his room, his temper cooled enough to review the encounter. The Escort had not been cruel, only harsh. Perhaps his trade had, of necessity, made him callous to daily cruelty. And not adding tothe atmosphere of fear and horror could be a kindness. Wondering why he was justifying the Escort's words, Castien tidied himself up as best he could for the day.

Chapter 6

Anais

Anais paced the cramped space from wall to wall, the unsatisfactory distance only about five of her short steps in length. This side room next to her chambers was convenient for the informal council with her Escorts, but she wished it was a bit larger.

A wooden, oval table occupied most of the room. Numerous candles lit the windowless space, flickering shadows into shelves full of parchment. Several of those shelves held message scrolls, like the one from three weeks ago. Those scrolls were now a weekly occurrence, announcing skirmishes on the southern border. While small probes at their border were easily rebuffed, this was still an escalation to Nadraken’s usual mild prodding. Additionally, the girl was concerning—such an unexpected direct attack on the palace required a response.

The Nadrakenan knife sat in the center of the table.

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