Page 4 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
“And the Young Lord?” Adeline asked eventually. “What’s he like?”
Erabella quietened. “I don’t remember what he was like before,” she said. “I was only a girl when it happened. But now…”
Adeline had heard the stories, of course, that the Young Lord had been cursed five years ago by an evil enchantress, but she’d wondered after meeting him if his deformity was a natural mutation that had just been inflamed by rumours.
“It’s true, then?”
“Oh yes,” said Erabella in earnest. “Quite true.”
Magic was not commonplace in Ferdinand, or commonplace anywhere, anymore, but it tended to exist more in objects than attached to people. Curses might be placed on ancient fairy gold or rings or other bits of jewellery… enchantresses were the stuff of history books and fairytales.
She felt something like sympathy for the Young Lord. He wasn’t old—a year or two younger than herself, if she remembered correctly. She couldn’t think what a child had done to warrant such a curse.
“He can get very angry at times,” Erabella warned. “Shouts. Breaks things. Best… best be careful, Miss.”
“Adeline,” she said. “And I wouldn’t worry. I used to be a midwife’s apprentice. I’ve dealt with some very formidable mothers! Screaming and shouting and breaking things? All in a day’s work.”
Erabella laughed a little at this. “Sounds like good work, Miss, I wonder why you aren’t still at it?”
Adeline stiffened, but fashioned her mouth into a smile, the same one she’d worn for almost two years, as soon as she was able to summon it. “Adeline, Adie, please,” she insisted. “‘Miss’ makes me sound far too proper. I went to the local school, you know. Same as you, I’d wager.”
“As you wish,” Erabella said, forgoing a name altogether. She pointed out the research wing, home to the library, apothecary and the scholars’ rooms. Although the Duke hadn’t been in residence for years, he still kept it operational for the occasional visitor, churning out reports for nobles and people of interest across the country. Adeline thought blissfully of a life surrounded by books, and was disappointed when Erabella steered them away, pointing out the guest rooms and the family suite. Dimitri, Adeline noticed, was not housed next to his father’s rooms, or the nursery. He wasn’t quite out of the way, but neither was he included.
After an hour, Erabella declared the tour over. “You need help finding anything, just ask.”
“Thank you, Erabella. You’ve been most kind.”
The maid bobbed her head, and disappeared down the corridor, sliding into one of the servants’ staircases, as if she was never there to begin with.
Adeline paused outside of the Young Lord’s room, and took a deep breath. She knocked carefully, and was offered the same bark of admittance he’d uttered yesterday.
“Good morning,” she said, stepping into the room.
The Young Lord was reclining on the chaise, good arm flung over his eyes. “Is it still so early?”
“It is so, Young Lord. A little before midday.”
“Well, if that’s the case, you’re abominably late.”
“It’s my first day.”
“Is it? What was yesterday?”
“An interview.” Had he not noticed her clothing, or complete absence after their initial meeting? She decided he was being deliberately obtuse.
He snorted indifferently. “Well? What are you waiting for? Make yourself useful.”
Adeline pushed back her urge to glare at him and went to open the curtains.
“No,” he hissed.
Adeline stifled a sigh. “My Lord, this room is in desperate need of an airing. May I at least open the windows?”
He sighed. “If you must.”
Adeline slipped through the curtains, conscious of him jolting from the spot, as if the sunlight were poisonous. She clicked the windows, throwing them wide open, and stepped back again, closing the curtains carefully behind her.
The Young Lord was pressed up against the back of the chaise, squinting.
