Cinnamon.

The unidentifiable smell was cinnamon. Seren stood at the edge of the arch, sniffing at the air where the smell of a sweet pastry drifted down the halls. The smell of cinnamon easily carried them away, sweet cream, and brown sugar. They’d identified a door on the far side of the dining room that must lead into the kitchen. From the archway, Seren could see another arch, through which they could almost see a breakfast nook.

They could hear movement from in the kitchen, some little giggles and clanking of pans and dishes. Gossip was being whispered but the hushed tones were too quiet for Seren to make out. Not that they were listening, they were too preoccupied with whatever was being cooked and how they could get some.

Seren heard someone coming down the broad staircase and ran across the dining room to the window. Staring out at the streets as if there was something incredibly interesting about the way the snow was falling.

“All right, dear,” Mrs Houper entered the dining room and Seren turned. Trying not to look guilty. The older woman noticed immediately. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing,” Seren said, realizing too late they’d spoken too quickly. Mrs. Houper’s eyes narrowed.

“You have something in your pockets?” She asked sternly. Seren patted their pockets confused.

“I don’t think so… Am I supposed to?” They looked up with a brand new wave of anxiety. Seren couldn’t remember being asked to bring something with them. Mrs. Houper scrutinized them through narrow eyes, making Seren’s anxiety heighten. It confirmed they were right all along and this was a mistake.

One of the kitchen staff tapped mrs. Houper on the shoulder. It took the sharp gaze off of Seren and allowed them to breathe briefly.

“We’re finished in the kitchen and are heading out,” the staff said, giving a little wave to Seren.

“Oh? Dishes done and pans cleaned?” She asked.

“Yes, everything but the breakfast dishes.” The staff leaned closer, speaking quieter but still loud enough for Seren to hear. “That kid’s been hanging out the doorway the entire time, staring at the kitchen.” Seren frowned at the remark, feeling like it was an insult.

“Thanks, merry yuletide.” Mrs. Houper smiled. The staff member nodded, holding their things and giving another little wave to Seren and heading toward the front door. Seren glared at the ground, trying to keep the guilt out of their face.

“Oh, I see.” Mrs. Houper said. She looked at Seren and brought up a smile. Seren could feel the resentment creeping up. “Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Seren clenched their jaw to stop from immediately agreeing.

“I shouldn’t…” Seren said, though their resolve was very weak. “I don’t want to make Mr. Asche wait.”

“He’s got nothing better to do today,” Mrs. Houper said with a shrug and a smile.

“Are you really sure he won’t get upset?” Seren asked.

“If he does, I’ll let him know it’s my fault you’re late. Okay?” Mrs. Houper held out a hand for Seren to take. Seren rocked back and forth, trying to stay focused. But in the end their stomach roared and they couldn’t resist.

“Okay,” Seren nodded. They took Mrs. Houper’s hand and let her lead them out of the hallway and into the kitchen. The kitchen was bigger than they expected it to be. With the breakfast bar they’d just been able to see from the dining room. Now it had three silver covered platters that were steaming up. The clean tiled counters bordered all along the kitchen walls, the refrigerator and ice chest were on the far side.

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“Go ahead and take a seat and I’ll grab you a plate,” Mrs. Houper gestured toward the barstools on the breakfast bar. Seren fidgeted but crept slowly to the barstool. They climbed up and kicked their feet awkwardly. Staring at the gaps between the counter tiles. Mrs. Houper opened the cupboards to grab a plate.

“What does your father do all day?” Mrs. Houper asked, placing the plate onto the counter. Seren stared at the counter harder.

“He can’t do much,” Seren said quietly. “He used to be able to walk around and would go out and do things. But he can’t anymore. He can’t stand very well.”

“Oh, why not? What happened?” Mrs. Houper pulled a fork and a butter knife out of a drawer and placed them next to the platters. Seren kept quiet, Mrs. Houper held the covers handle, almost like she was trying to coax Seren into speaking, or coercing.

“I don’t know much about it,” Seren said finally. “There was some kind of accident and it made him really dizzy. Then he was gone for a few days, and when he came back, he stumbled all the time. He kept his eyes covered a lot. He has this medication he’s supposed to have… but we don’t always have it.”

“Oh…” Mrs. Houper said quietly. “So it’s just you.”

“Yeah, just me.” Seren nodded. It took their focus when Mrs. Houper pulled off the cover. Revealing a pile of fluffy, steaming French toast. Seren’s mouth was instantly flooded. They bit their bottom lip to stop from drooling.

“Would you like syrup and whipped cream?” Mrs. Houper asked, grabbing two from the pile of French toast and placing them on Seren’s plate. They nodded and Mrs. Houper uncovered the second platter with a bowl of freshly whipped cream and a small pitcher of amber syrup. She poured a generous river of syrup over the French toast, then a spoonful of whipped cream dolloped on top.

“Would you like some juniper or blackthorn berries?” Mrs. Houper asked.

“Yes please,” Seren said, only afterwards realizing it wasn’t a yes or no question. That didn’t bother Mrs. Houper at all, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pair of cardboard punnets. Both carrying small winter berries. She sprinkled a tiny handful of both on the plate before placing it in front of Seren.

“So, there really isn’t a source of income in your home, is there?” Mrs. Houper asked as she replaced the covers. Seren shook their head no and began tearing at the slices of toasty bread. Not even touching the knife in favor of stabbing a full slice and shoveling it whole. Seren devoured breakfast barely tasting it. The lingering taste of cinnamon sugar, vanilla cream, and sticky maple syrup left them more content than they could ever remember being. Forgetting entirely that they were there to do a job and not just eat.

”I think I’m finished,” Seren said, the realization suddenly dawning on them. They pushed the plate away sheepishly. “I think I need to wash up.” Their hands were sticky and so was their face.

“All right, I’ll show you where the lavatory is.” Mrs. Houper took the dishes and placed them in the sink. “I’ll take care of the dishes while you wash your hands.” Seren nodded, carefully getting up off the barstool without using their hands. Mrs. Houper led Seren through a hidden door on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Through the second archway, Seren saw the back of the staircase and the double doors that led to a backyard. Down the hall was the music room Seren’d seen when entering the house the first time. They were led back toward the dining room but along the wall was a single door. Mrs. Houper opened the door to a modest little washroom.

“Find me in the kitchen when you’re finished.” Mrs. Houper said and left Seren in the washroom. The washroom had a stale floral smell that made Seren feel itchy inside.

They turned on the tap by nudging the handles with the back of their fist. The handles turned easily and poured cold water into the basin, which was deep enough that Seren could stick their arms all the way to the elbows. Seren washed up in pure amazement of the never-ending space.

Mrs. Houper wiped her hands off as she heard the water running in the lavatory. She paused at the little house intercom by the kitchen doorway. Holding down the button with a ‘study’ card over it.

“They will be up momentarily, don’t consider this a victory. I am still against this.” She said into the microphone.

“Your concerns are noted,” Came the voice from the other end of the intercom. Mrs. Houper huffed and turned to the awaiting dishes.

A few minutes later, Seren appeared back in the kitchen.

“Shall we?” Mrs. Houper asked, Seren nodded. Mrs. Houper led them back into the hallway and up the grand staircase to the second floor. Rounding a corner to a second flight of stairs that led up to a short hall and a single set of double doors.

Mrs. Houper knocked on the doors and opened them before there was an answer. Seren felt their heart leap up into their throat and their head spun. They drew in the deepest breath they could to silence their fears. Mrs Houper stepped out of the way and Seren stood as straight as they could before entering the study.