I sat upstairs, in my master’s bedroom, reading. Beneath me, the masons were leaving after a long day of work, their first. It hadn’t been easy to hire them, having only the evenings and the very early morning to work with, but they were well on their way now. They were paid handsomely, of course, and I had promised an additional, heavy reward if I was satisfied with the work. Breathing down their necks to get the job well-done was the last thing I wanted.

It knocked on the door below. Mortal ears wouldn’t have heard. I immediately scoured the visitors with the Mind’s Eye, and found six of them, three women and three men. The servants that Carmele had sent, but she was not amongst them. I took a moment to shed the disappointment before sweeping down the stairs in record time and emerging in the disarrayed entry where the masons had left tools and material lying around.

I opened the double-doors with a light push for each and they knocked on the walls in each side, making all six of them flinch. Perhaps I would need to replace the doors also.

They were six, and one girl immediately drew my eye for her resemblance with Carmele. She was younger, perhaps thirteen of age, thin and frail I thought first, but at a closer look, she seemed wiry and used to hard-work, like Carmele. A sister, no doubt. Her mind had a similar blurred complexity, but was still a league easier to read. It was a man who stepped forward first, however, he was older, middle-aged, with a serious look, a well-groomed beard and short hair.

I was making them nervous. But their minds revealed why they were here yet, Carmele had told them I was filthy rich and generous, as well as a very polite man, and – this drew a smile to my face – she had told them I was a Christian lad who seemed to respect all regardless of standing. The small, amused smile disconcerted them, so I hid it away quickly and thanked them for coming.

It was the middle-aged man who greeted me first and asked me for the proceedings. I told them to wait in the reception, or what was left of it, and come find me upstairs one by one, where we would talk. This made them nervous also, especially the girl. A string of words went through the surface of her mind: never be alone with a man, however sweet he seems. The words were spoken in Carmele’s voice.

Nevertheless, she agreed along with the rest, and I dismissed the concern and walked upstairs, followed by the middle-aged man.

What I needed was a pantler, a chambermaid, a valet, and a laundress, I had agreed with myself. And I was planning to wash my hands off of all practicalities and day-to-day affairs, which they would handle. This man wished to be the pantler, and the head of the household’s workings, due to his experience in Robert’s household, from which he actually came. But he wanted a higher wage.

His name was Honorat. And though he was dutiful and strict beyond measure, and therefore would fill my requirement of discretion without doubt, I still sensed something I didn’t like in him, perhaps a haughtiness, a self-importance. In the end, I wrote him off as approved in the back of my mind and dismissed him. He walked down with slow, careful dignity. Like that would make me see him in higher regard. Perhaps it was a requirement for some nobles.

Then came up a young man, perhaps younger than I had been when given the Gift. Lean, ash-blond, with quiet but keen dark eyes and strong cheekbones which I envied him and faint dimples as he smiled broadly to me. “Master Archibald,” he greeted in a suave voice, bowing his head, “I am Aventin, the baker’s son. There was some asymmetry in the eyes, and the nose was long, but he was a handsome lad.

“The baker?” I repeated, prodding a quick chain of thoughts in his mind. This was one was sharp and lucid, and very easy to read. He was the fourth son, and there was no space for him in his father’s shop. Bakers were quite rich, however, ovens being very expensive, and this one seemed fairly accomplished, having worked as help for a friend of his father’s, a local artisan with a flourishing business. I liked him immediately. He was reasonable and ambitious, but not overly so. His chief desire seemed to be impressing his family with his own success. I could make that happen.

“And if I asked you to cook, and take care of logistics, and such,” I ventured, attempting to get rid of the pantler already. The fewer servants I had to fool, the better.

There was only a hint of reluctance in him, which he quickly strangled away and replied earnestly, “then I would gladly do so. Have done so before.” He smiled broadly again. I wondered if he was used to that smile making way for him? Probably. Maybe not even consciously.

“Brilliant,” I said, “you’re hired. Don’t tell the others.”

He beamed and thanked me, he was one big ball of excitement as he left. I leaned back in the chair, and stared outside, where night was earnestly settling. No moon and stars, only darkness. I was really taking my time, and it was getting late. So I hurried through the next talks, taking real note of only one woman named Pélagie who was in her late twenties and seemed down-to-earth, practical, and quite confident in what she did. She could cook and do laundry. I considered taking her in because I was afraid that the young and powerful Aventin would trample Carmele’s sister’s small and shy presence, and expected this woman to provide counterweight and take care of her. I was sure she would, because I sensed already her worry for leaving the young girl with the last man, downstairs. She needn’t have worried, for I was watching her duly.

I asked her to send the man up, which she did, he was a young and relaxed man, fairly charming, but he seemed short-sighted, and I dismissed him politely. Finally, it had come to her. Carmele’s sister. And yes, I absolutely had the plan of walking her home afterwards, though I knew Pélagie would do it. Carmele had asked her to, of course. She seemed the type to have done so anyway, but Carmele would not leave it to chance.

The sister’s name was Sybille. It was her first job, and she was scared and nervous, but determined to not screw it up. She wanted to stop being a burden on her sister. It really surprised me that Carmele had sent her, but it also delighted me, for it meant I had her trust to some measure.

“Sibylle, how is Carmele?” I asked her gently, and the poor girl stiffened. “You two look very much alike.” Oh. How had I missed it? Carmele was outside, now, along with Aude, and that Armand, and Robert too. They were waiting. Some retinue, this little girl had to take her back. I sensed worry in the group. They were closing to knocking on my door. Had I taken that long?

“Is that so?” She said in a small voice, nervous and hesitant. My. Throwing her to me was like throwing a sheep to a wolf. I understood that Carmele was worried. Was she perhaps regretting her decision?

I continued my job offer, unaffected. “You would be given a lot of freedom. Do you think you can handle that?” I admit it. I was almost teasing her.

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She looked afraid of the question itself. Like it would bite her if the response was not satisfactory. “I will work very hard,” she said, like she had practiced it. I almost laughed.

They knocked, downstairs, and Pélagie, who was the only one left, opened the door carefully, after a great deal of hesitation. It was not her house, after all. She felt in the wrong, but she thought she recognised the muffled voice from the other side, so I gave her a pass. Plus, it was Carmele.

I continued going through the motions with the young girl, asking the usual questions, but my mind was elsewhere. I was listening to them talking downstairs.

“She’s alone with him?” Carmele hissed, sounding angry, “that bastard. I thought he could meet you two together, at the very least. You should have insisted on going with her! I am going up!”

“I’m going with you,” Robert said, but I think he made sign for the others to remain downstairs, for no one followed.

I returned my attention to Sibylle, who was prudently explaining when she woke up in the day, and somehow mixing it with the salary she expected, which was very humble even by servant standards. I interrupted her. “It seems we are having company.”

Her eyes went wide when she heard the steps on the stairs, I felt her heart bounce in fear, and then I felt frustration, and even resentment when she saw Carmele emerge. Ah. An inferiority complex, of course, how was anything else possible with an older sister like Carmele? But it was so deep in Sibylle that only fear showed on her face, fear for everything going wrong, and self-doubt, because she feared she had done something wrong in her meeting with me, or with Carmele.

I rose from my seat and took on a look of mild surprise upon seeing them. “I do not remember inviting you in,” I said drily, but with a hint of amusement. Robert was severe and tight-lipped, hands folded in his back.

“Archibald,” he said with cold politeness. He was hiding a great deal of enmity. A stark difference from our first meeting.

“Archibald, it is very late!” Carmele said accusingly, kneeling next to her sister who made herself very small, like she hoped to disappear from this. “When you said the evening, I had hoped you would make this quick! And it is most definitely not becoming to chat with a girl alone at this hour! What were you thinking!” She was admonishing the both of us, but mostly me.

“I am sorry. I lost track of time, it is simply that your sister seemed very anxious, and I was hoping to put her at ease,” I explained and smiled gently to Sibylle, and then to Pélagie, “you are both most definitely hired, if you will have me.”

Sibylle looked up with surprise, and then embarrassment, before nodding vigorously, “I will have you!” She blurted out and reddened even further, snapping her mouth shut. Pélagie curtsied gratefully but asked me immediately at what salary.

“Twice what you asked, both,” I said, gesturing dismissively, “you will work with a young man named Aventin, the baker’s fourth son. I hope you get along. And Carmele… are you sure you do not wish to work with your sister?”

She crossed her arms, but I knew I had pleased her, for the anger was nearly gone from her face, and there was perhaps even a shiver of delight. “I know Aventin, he seems good enough. What of the pantler? Honorat?”

“Aventin will do logistics, and Pélagie can cook. And in any case, I am hardly high maintenance,” I confessed easily, chuckling. “Were you expecting the pantler to look after your sister also?” I inquired provocatively, eyes twinkling. Is it not enough with Pélagie? This I did not say out loud, but my meaning was clear to Carmele.

“Honorat is a good man,” she insisted, defiant and completely unafraid.

I paused, gauging her. Fine. We do it this way. “Please leave us, my friends, you can wait downstairs. I wish to have a chat with Carmele under four eyes,” I told them tranquilly, my attention all on Carmele, who froze for a heartbeat in her challenging, daring expression. I had gotten her. If she did not trust me enough to be alone in the room with me, then how could she trust me with her sister? And they would only go downstairs, only a small shout away. She would hardly be ‘alone’ with a man. Plus, she was not a girl. She had serious pride. She couldn’t refuse me.

“Fine,” she said, moving her shoulder in a detached gesture and settling down in the only armchair of the room, with a comfortable cushion. It made my lips curl upwards. Pélagie left with Sibylle, who smiled to me earnestly, and Robert was last, his brows furrowed in reluctance. But he was not bold enough to impose his will here. Carmele observed me. “There. We are alone. What do you wish to talk of?” She asked calmly.

I deflated, feigning tiredness. “Carmele, do you trust me in the least?”

Her brows went up. “Do I trust you? Obviously. I am alone in a room with you, though you look ten times my size,” I rolled my eyes, “and my sister will be in your household.”

“Then why all this?” I gestured vaguely for her, for the ones downstairs. “I planned to walk them home, your sister and Pélagie. If you did not properly trust me, then in what world would you sent me your sister alone?” I wanted to say more, to impress on her how little Pélagie could have done to stop even if I had still been a mortal man. That she was disproportionally worried. That her decisions were not aligned.

She eyed me sharply. “Oh, Archie, forgive my cautiousness, but women must maintain a certain security. Every single man that passes our way has the strength to kill us with their bare hands!” She exclaimed, before sighing and leaning back in the chair.

I gave her time to calm down, sensing a chasm between what she felt and what she said. And indeed: “That is not what I meant to say,” she confessed, showing a shiver of guilt, “no. the reason I am mad at you, my new friend Archie, is because it became so late and even though you planned to accompany her home, it is not safe for either of you at this hour. You lost track of time, okay, but therein you put Pélagie, yourself, and even Sibylle in a hazardous position!”

Oh. She stared at me, and I felt her surprise, at seeing me surprised. It gave her pause, before she continued: “I have never seen you with even a dagger! Everyone carries daggers! I have two!”

“Really?” I frowned, looking over her figure, “where?”

“I don’t tell,” she said with uncharacteristic demureness. She was playing, now. I liked it, and hummed thoughtfully.

“In your boot. Your hair? Between your –” her expression stopped. The eyes were wide and the brows high. There was a warning there, daring me to go there if I was brave enough. I laughed. “I mean between the folds of your dress, I would guess that there is perhaps a pocket.”

“How perspicacious of you,” she said, but confirmed nothing, and she waved her hand, “but enough playing, it will get you nowhere.”

“Nowhere with what?”

“With me. Just like your coin,” she added sharply, smiling.

“Bah, I do not care about coin, you do not care about coin. That makes two of us.”

“I never said that,” she claimed, lifting a finger, “I simply do not care about your coin.”

“Then we remain on the same page,” I argued smoothly, “for I do not care about my coin either.”

“That’s honestly worrying. You should,” she said, but I was warming her up. Then she suddenly stood up, “it’s getting very late, I shall walk home.”

“I shall accompany you,” I declared.

“There is no need, go to sleep.”

“Robert and Armand are no fighters, and no guards have been brought, which honestly surprises me.”

“We were chatting in the kitchen when Honorat came home. He had stayed and talked, so it was already late at that point. We decided to hurry and see if my sister was still here. And are you perhaps a fighter, master bookkeeper?”

I shrugged and smiled. She had no idea. She eyed me sceptically. “I only know,” I started, “that I will follow and watch you from a distance until you are safe home, one and all. Where do you live, actually? Do you have your own house or do you stay in Robert’s mansion?”

“We have our own house,” she said,” my sister and I”, and she sighed. “Walk with us, then, since you insist.”

“Fantastic.”

I walked them home to their house, along with Robert and Armand. The valet eyed me intriguingly the entire way. He, and the young Sibylle, could not take their minds off of the mysterious, eerie stranger who looked pristine and wealthy like a pampered prince yet was actually a carpenter’s son. And the warm blood of this evening’s victim was fading in me, making me more and more otherworldly. Carmele talked mostly with Pélagine and Sibylle, and a little with Armand, allowing me to take a step back and relax satisfyingly. Robert made sure to sullenly stay in the opposite side of the group compared to me. What did I care?

I had gotten all I wanted for the evening and more.