Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 32 - Leavi

The town council reception at Lady Veradeaux's manor is more like my parents' stuffy work functions than last night's party at Marcí's was. Five council members parade through the space I spent all yesterday cleaning, spouses in tow and glasses of watered-down alcohol in hand. The men's tall, stiff collars force their necks into a perpetual stretch, a posture that reminds me of uncomfortable geese. With my back to the wall and uniform still too small, I'm not in much better shape. At least I'm not one of the active serving maids, though, winding their way through the crowd as guests snag food from trays while entirely ignoring the girls who hold them. In the center of the room, Lady Veradeaux laughs and flips her hair, the only one here seeming comfortable. Candlelight reflects off her golden brocade, making her appear to glow.

Beside her stands the mysterious 'visitor from the east.' Billowing black robes swallow him, sleeves long enough to conceal his hands. A deep hood hangs against his back, and a thick silver chain disappears under the cloth. I've never been a superstitious or religious person, but if he were to put the hood on, I swear he'd be what I met on the opposite side of death. He stands slightly too still, but his gaze flickers over everything like a bird of prey analyzing its victims. Lank, shoulder-length red hair gives his already pale skin a sickly pallor. Though he stands half a head shorter than Lady Veradeaux, his composure is just as confident.

Across the room, his dark eyes snap to mine. My stomach drops, hyper-aware he caught me staring. He holds my gaze for an unnerving amount of time.

Raising a single finger, he beckons me over. I freeze, hesitant to be any closer to him than I must. His eyes narrow, lips parting slightly. Despite being twenty feet away, his one-word command is as clear as if he'd spoken it directly in my ear, and chills crawl across my skin.

"Come."

Scared what will happen if I refuse, I force my leaden feet forward. He turns away from his group, toward me. I stop five feet from him, but that condemning finger rises again. Hesitantly, I close a few more feet.

He grabs my wrist, yanking me close, then tips my chin up, inspecting me. Before I can protest, he's released me. "You're not a Kadranian brat or you'd have better manners." His voice is as dark as a deep, vast cavern. "Where are you from?"

I lean back, heart hammering in my chest. For a second, my frazzled mind considers telling him the truth, but I doubt he'd believe it. Instead, I provide the lie Jacin seems to accept. "Draó."

A sardonic smile rises to his lips. "Specific. You do look like a mongrel, though, so I suppose it's fitting." He turns back to the group. "Lady Veradeaux, do you often make a habit of hiring insolent maids?"

Panic flickers briefly in her eyes, but she covers it, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. "Of course not. Why? Is that one giving you trouble?"

"Perhaps it is different in your land. However, in my country, lowly serving girls are taught to keep their eyes to their own affairs." His gaze rakes me down.