Page 9 of A Rose Among Snakes

Three days prior I had been absolutely stunned when I had entered the Port for the first time. My mother had spoken of it as if it were one of the most dangerous places in the entire continent of Ilesand; a town filled with gambling, drinking, and volatile criminals. Her vilification had all taken place before my father died. She hadn’t mentioned it since, except for when Ziffem first appeared in the village and she said it probably came from ‘that horrid Port Deering.’

It was a three-hour brougham ride to the coast, and before I knew it, sunlight broke through as the dismal wall of trees came to an abrupt end. I scooted to the other side of the bench and held my breath as I took in the sights.

The sky was a brilliant blue, devoid of even a single cloud to mar its beauty. Gulls swooped overhead, dancing in the gusty wind. Milner maneuvered the brougham through the crowded streets, and as he rounded a corner, I caught a glimpse of the docks.However, it wasn’t the chaos of men milling about hauling large crates on and off ornately decorated ships that gave me goosebumps; it was the ocean. Three days ago, when I had interviewed with the housekeeper of Blaise Manor, we’d met in a building on the other side of town and I had not seen the water. But now I was utterly transfixed. Every aspect of it was mesmerizing, from the stunning shades of the turquoise water to the sheer vastness of it. I knew the port was on the water, but I hadn’t realized just how close I would come to the ocean. It was astounding how something could be so beautiful yet equally terrifying.

The carriage hit a bump, knocking my forehead against the glass and pulling me from my reverie. We turned a corner and I glanced ahead to see the road leading up a steep, winding hill out of the bustling town. My stomach flipped as I remembered where exactly I was headed and how close we must have been. I folded my hands in my lap and bounced my leg, trying to release my nervous energy.

Blossoming trees lined the path, showering the brougham in pink petals as we climbed the hill. After a few more minutes of traversing the tree-lined path, we reached level ground and I slid back to the other end of the bench. The view in front of me was stunning. An array of flower beds sprinkled the expansive green lawn, boasting tulips in shades of red, yellow, and fiery orange. White and pink begonias dotted the edges along with voluminous bushes of lavender.

I heard Milner say “Woah,” as the carriage came to a stop. I was startled by the door opening with a creak, revealing a red-haired young man with large brown eyes and a broad smile.

“Afternoon, ma’am.” He held his hand out and I accepted his assistance, anticipation swirling in my stomach. No turning back.

“Good afternoon.” My feet landed softly in a manicured patch of grass and the man released my hand.

“Need some help, Milner?” The red-haired man went to help the coachman with my bags, giving me a moment to take in the house.

I craned my neck back to look all the way up, shielding my eyes against the sun blazing high above. The gabled peaks reached clear up into the sky. Beautiful, weather-worn brick covered the exterior of the manor, broken up by several large windows. Sun glitteredoff a rectangular stained glass window perched high above the wooden front doors, but the glare made it impossible for me to make out the design. Wisteria grew on the left side of the manor, weaving its way along the grout of the bricks and climbing up to the roof. The briny scent of sea salt mixing with lavender left a pleasant sting in my nose.

Truly, I had never seen such a stunning home before, and it was surreal to think this was where I would live for the foreseeable future. The front door opened without a sound and a woman in her late sixties emerged. Mrs. Shulling, the housekeeper, was dressed in a prim, high-collared, navy-blue gown with a white apron tied around her waist. Her brown hair was streaked with silver and pulled into a neat bun at the back of her head. She stepped forward, a polite smile on her face.

“Ms. Nowen, it’s wonderful to see you again. I trust your ride over was pleasant?”

“Hello, Mrs. Shulling,” I said with a curtsy. “The drive was lovely. Thank you for sending the carriage.”

Mrs. Shulling waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense, child. Mr. Blaise insisted. Come, let’s introduce you to him and Ms. Blaise.”

My stomach flipped for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, and my palms grew sweaty. “What about my bags?”

“Franz will deliver them to your room,” she replied, spinning to walk back into the manor. The red-haired man, presumably Franz, strode past with my bags in hand and used his foot to hold the door open for me.

While the exterior of the home was beautiful, the interior was exquisite. It featured rich wood floors and thick molding with carved vines and flowers. Extravagant, plush rugs in shades of black, brown, and cream lined the hallway, providing a cozier feeling than I would have imagined. Paintings of various landscapes were strategically placed along the wood-paneled walls; a ship at sea, a field of wildflowers, and a towering mountain. An iron chandelier with unlit candles hung from the middle of the tall ceiling. The air was warm, and the familiar scent of woodsmoke drifted from the small hearth in the far corner, coals still simmering in the ashes.

Mrs. Shulling led the way through the foyer and down a wide hallway, stopping at a set of wooden doors, one slightly ajar. Voices inside quieted when she knocked.

“Come in,” said a man’s deep voice. Mrs. Shulling pushed open the door and beckoned for me to follow. The room was not very big, wall-to-wall bookcases enclosing it further, but a large window to the right let in plenty of natural light. Candles burned in sconces on the walls, the scent of melting wax mingling with the parchment and leather of old books.

Two men sat at a wooden desk across from each other and rose as we walked in.

Mrs. Shulling curtsied as she said, “Mr. Blaise, allow me to introduce Ms. Nowen. She will be attending to your sister.”

I dropped my head and curtsied, and as I stood, my heart stuttered. He was striking. He had olive skin with a sun-kissed glow, a sharp jawline, a finely chiseled nose, and a smile that took my breath away. His wavy, brown hair was swept back, except for one lock that fell forward to mingle with his long, dark eyelashes. And those eyes—a vibrant shade of green, like sparkling emeralds. Green eyes that pinned me right where I stood. Green eyes that took me back to two days ago.

Mr. Blaise was the stranger in the woods.

Chapter Five

My heart hammered in my chest as heat rushed to my face. I felt utterly ashamed, positive he would send me home. Why would he allow a woman with a Ziffem-using brother to attend to his sister?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Nowen,” he said, dipping his chin, “but please, call me Velian. Mr. Blaise was my father, and I prefer to do things a little differently than him.”

I met his polite gaze but saw no spark of recognition. Maybe I was mistaken, but there was no way I could forget those eyes. Velian blinked, his smile faltering, and I realized I was staring.

I cleared my throat and bowed my head in acknowledgment of his wishes as the heat from my cheeks prickled the back of my neck. Taz would never have been so ruffled by a man, and she would die if she could see me now. I flicked my eyes over to the other man in the room to counteract the flush flooding my body. He was a portly, mustachioed man with ruddy cheeks and yellowing teeth bared in a grimace rather than a smile—the perfect extinguisher. He crossed his stubby arms over his rotund belly and tapped his foot.

The sound of heeled footsteps echoing off the wooden floors drew both men’s gazes to the door. In strode a young woman, brunette curls cascading down the back of her lacy cream gown. With her narrow chin lifted in the air, she marched past Mrs. Shulling and me to stand directly in front of Velian, the scent of rosewater perfume trailing after her.

“Kez, meet your new maid, Ms. Nowen,” Velian said.

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