Page 3 of Seraph's Tears
He grunted. “No, you’re the only servant in this huge house.” He turned and walked across the darkened Great Hall toward the crook in the L. “Come. This is the domestic wing.”
I imagined turning, grabbing the massive iron door handle nearly as thick as my forearm, opening the heavy door, and running out into the moors. I quelled the impulse. Zorababel would be furious if he found out I’d disappeared without completing his mission, and he’d track me down and drag me before the church for a public flogging. I couldn’t escape yet.
Stomach sinking, I followed the retiring manservant across the Great Hall and eyed the grimy windows. “When was the last time these were washed?”
The elderly butler grunted something unintelligible. I thought it sounded like, “That’s your job, isn’t it?”
“Can you tell me what the rooms are as we pass through at least?” I tried to keep the exasperated tone out of my voice as I hurried to catch up to the grumpy old man.
He gave a heavy, aching sigh, as if I’d asked him to give up his firstborn. “Great Hall.” He pointed behind them. “Minstrel gallery.” Then he pointed to the left as they passed the large, circular alcove with windows all around. “Oriel.”
I cocked my head and realized this was what I’d called the beginning of a round tower when I’d been outside. Huh. So that’s an oriel. I’ve never even heard of one of those before.
Standing in the old manor, taking over an upper servant’s position for a reclusive, mystical creature made my breath come faster and fingers twitch. I was out of my element. I can learn, I told myself firmly. I will learn. I have no other choice.
At the end of the Great Hall was a small, unobtrusive door that led to the other wing of the house—what the man had called the domestic wing. The short end of the L.
“Corridor,” the man pointed out, oh-so-helpfully.
I rolled my eyes, trailing him. The gloom hid the little clouds of dust that undoubtedly burst up at our feet each time we took a step.
He led me through a laundry room, folding room, pantry, scullery, buttery, wide kitchen, lock room, butler’s office, and a few other rooms. Once upon a time this house must’ve retained at least a score of servants.
“Where’s my bedroom?” I interrupted his monologue.
The old man glared at me, then pointed at a narrow set of stairs tucked between the scullery and buttery. “Bedchambers are up there. Take your pick.”
“If you’re leaving,” I said, “who will tell me what my duties are? When will I meet with the master of the house?”
A rough, coughing sound erupted from the frail man. I took a step back in alarm before realizing he was laughing. “Hopefully it will be delayed as long as possible. You don’t want to attract his attention.”
A frisson of alarm tingled across my skin, sending the hair on the back of my neck and arms straight up. “Why?” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Is he cruel?”
“Ill-mannered, cantankerous, demanding, foreign.” All words that could be used to describe himself, too.
“But…doesn’t he eat?” My eyes widened at the realization that maybe he didn’t eat. Maybe the Herald of Death didn’t need sustenance at all.
“Little,” the wizened butler replied. “You’ll eat more than he does. He says he hates the food here.”
He won’t hurt me, will he? The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I held them back. I knew my mission was risky, knew that was why Zorababel had chosen me for it over the other women in the congregation. But I’d assumed I’d be in more spiritual danger than physical.
The questions must’ve shone on my face, though, because the butler wagged his head. “Keep your head down. Don’t serve him burnt porridge. Don’t enter his private rooms unless he requests them cleaned. You’ll be fine.” With that, he led me out of the domestics’ hall and back through the Great Hall toward the gallery. “I’m leaving.”
“Wait!” I nearly grabbed his wrinkled hand. “Shouldn’t I know something else? What did you do for him for all the years you worked here?”
“You’ll be fine,” he said again, and reached into the shadows to pull out two valises. Then he opened the front door and left, leaving me standing on the threshold, my mouth agape.
What had I gotten myself into?
Chapter Two
Gabriel
Shadows cloaked me as I stood high above her, an unseen witness.
My new housekeeper.
A strange burning stirred in my chest. I rubbed it with my fist, willing it away as I stared through the inky darkness at the woman who now lived with me. Served me. My other hand tightened on the wooden railing.
