Page 8 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
“I suppose you could read it to me. After you’re done cleaning.” He folded his arms across his back, and rolled over so he was facing the wall, as if he expected this task to take a while. “You’ve got nothing better to do, I suppose.”
Adeline bit back a laugh. He reminded her, just for a moment, of one of her little brothers, secretly craving a story but not wanting to ask. She wasn’t sure he’d like the comparison to a petulant child, and she was loath to stop him talking when he’d finally shown an interest. She finished her task quickly, snapped up the book, and started to read.
The Young Lord jumped, as if he’d never heard a human voice before. She pretended she hadn’t noticed, rattling on with the prologue, loud and animated, summoning different voices.
He watched, and listened, andlooked.His eyes stared at her the entire time, his ears soaking up every word. She was used to an audience, but it amused her to have a new one.
She paused at the end of chapter three, her throat parched.
The Young Lord was still staring at her. “Where did you learn to read like that?”
“I assure you, the village school is very sufficient—”
“They taught you to read like that at the school? All… enthusiastically?”
“Ha. No. I suppose not.ThatI learned from my father.”
“What does he do? Some sort of performer?”
“He was a merchant,” she explained. “But also… a father. He read to us every night.”
“And he…”
“Died two years ago.”
His voice lowered, human half of his face softening. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
She waited for him to ask about the rest of her family, but he didn’t. She was almost glad; she wasn’t sure she wanted to explain the situation to him. It wasn’t painful so much as uncomfortable. She didn’t like the look people gave her when they knew, the awkward flustering, the lack. People never knew what to say, or do, and she was just bored of it after so long.
“Carry on,” he said. “I am eager to hear more.”
She cleared her throat. “Would you mind if I got a drink of water, first? I’m quite thirsty.”
“Why didn’t you stop before?”
“I… it seemed impolite.”
“If you’re thirsty, drink!” He shook his head. “Don’t ask for that.”
“As you wish, Young Lord.”
She went to the sink in the corner of the room to draw herself a glass. There was a silver goblet beside the tap, clearly his, and she wondered if it was appropriate for her to use it, or if she should fetch one from downstairs.
“Use it,” he instructed, sensing her dithering. “Unless you think the curse is catching.”
Adeline made a big show of pouring herself a large measure and knocking it back, maintaining eye contact the entire time.
“If you pretend to gag now, I’ll have you dismissed.”
Adeline snorted into the goblet, water dribbling down her chin. “Sorry,” she said, wiping herself down. “Most undignified.”
“Indeed. Are you suitably refreshed?”
“I believe so.”
“Good. Sit yourself down and resume your task.”
