Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 32 - Leavi

"If it's a problem," the lady offers, "she can always be dismissed."

He stares at me, and I hold his gaze. Looking in his eyes, though—there's something dark and cold there. Subtle but undeniably wrong. It unsettles me, and I glance down, breaking the connection.

"No," he concludes at length. "I believe she's learned her lesson."

He turns away, and I hurry back to my spot at the wall. Humiliation burns my chest, but a chilled disquiet tempers the flames. I keep my eyes down, only looking up if one of the guests summons me.

No matter what, my gaze stays off the Man from the East.

* * *

The morning after the reception, the manor halls echo.

"I haven't seen her in three days," a girl whispers, turning the corner onto my hall.

"I heard she got fired."

Thirty feet down from me, the maids' gossip is as clear as if we were sitting side by side. I try to focus on my work, but with nothing besides varying patterns of dirt to distract me, it's impossible not to listen.

I glance out of the corner of my eye. The first girl who spoke has blonde hair and bright eyes round in worry. The second girl is older, with a leanness to hear that speaks of long days and hard work well done.

"For what?" a lanky, carrot-topped girl asks. "I always thought she did good work."

The older girl scoffs. Her thick black plait slides over her shoulder with a casual toss of her head. "Maybe for that mouth on her."

The blonde maid shakes her head. "No. Kirsi was a good girl. She wouldn't have done anything stupid."

"Because she hasn't before?" the eldest retorts.

"I—" The younger girl gathers herself, then narrows her eyes. "I'm worried about her and all you can do is run your mouth off. You never did like her anyway, did you? You probably do hope something happened to her."

The dark-haired girl narrows her eyes. "I'm just looking at the facts, and the facts are that she never liked keeping her mouth shut or falling in line. Those are the kinds of things that get you fired in a job like this."

"If she got fired, she would have told me," the blonde protests.

The other crosses her arms. "Or maybe you two weren't quite the bosom buddies you thought you were."

"Something's wrong. I'm telling you, it is!"

The older girl rolls her eyes and goes back to dusting.

After a second, the carrot-top takes pity on the blonde. "When did you say you last saw her?"

"Three days ago. That morning. She told me she'd seen something weird in the north wing—"

The carrot-top recoils. "The north wing? What was she doing there?"

My scrubbing pauses. That was one of the first things my manager said when she gave me my assignment yesterday—don't speak unless spoken to, do what you're told, and keep out of the north wing. It's off-limits. Why, she didn't say.

The blonde shrugs. "I don't know. She wanted me to come look, but I made up some excuse. I didn't want to get caught, you know? But now I'm wondering if I should have gone with her."

The oldest maid, not even bothering to turn her head, snorts. "And then you'd be out of a job, too. You really can't put it together? She went where she wasn't supposed to, and she got fired for it. It's plain and simple, sweetheart."

The girl spins toward her. "That still doesn't explain why she hasn't talked to me!"

The woman shakes her head.

Seeing the mystery solved, the carrot-top pats her on the shoulder, making some consolation, and gets back to her work. As if irritated by the condescension, the first maid declares, "I'm going to find her!"

"Whatever you gotta do, sweetheart. It's your job. Just keep us out of it."

The girl huffs and stalks off.

The other two's conversation turns to who's dating who and the latest thing the manager has done to tick them off, and I tune them out, considering what I heard. The older girl sounds sensible, but after last night, I can't shake the feeling something strange is going on here. What is so bad that you would disappear from your workplace without telling a single person? My mind flicks back to the message I scratched on the door of Trifexer's Institute. I was running for my life, and I still left a note.

Maybe she didn't get a chance to.

A chill runs through me, and I try to shake it off. You're letting your imagination get the best of you again. Annoyed, I finish the spot I've been cleaning and move on.