RISING (#2, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 3

I'd heard that from the other servants too.

I'd never met any of the Crowthers, and I was curious about the fear the higher-ranking servants demonstrated from just hearing their family name. Mystery surrounded Lower House Crowther. They kept their distance from the other Houses and rarely invited anyone onto their estate. Their family worked as enforcers, keeping the world's most powerful crime lords and cartels in line, ensuring our magic-infused drugs flowed to the mortal world and the ill-gained money flowed back up to us. Their family line was ancient and hailed all the way back to the Final War. By all accounts, if the servants' whispers were to be trusted, they were wild, vicious killers. Savages. Even I was apprehensive to attend them this weekend.

Marissa carried on, "Rosa Battagli called me last week, upset. Varen snarled at her that her constant chatter was boring the fuck out of him, and to shut her mouth before he stitched it shut himself."

My eyebrows rose. Firstly, what a jerk. Secondly, I didn't appreciate the crass swearing.

"She was just telling him about the new puppy her father had given her," Marissa said as we both pushed off the staircase's last step and onto the marble foyer floor

A surprised laugh burst from me. I couldn't help it. Even when Rosa visited with Marissa, she barely took a breath between sentences and spoke over the top of her friend.

Marissa bit her lip, trying not to laugh as well. "I mean, I guess it's not as if Rosa's a sweet little five-year-old, the woman's nearly thirty years of age. She was nervous standing next to him at last weekend's engagement blessing," Marissa elaborated, her pace slowing down as we reached the open front doors. Outside, her family, guests, and servants were arranging themselves into ordered rows. "She has the biggest crush on him—most of us do. She said she couldn't stop herself, the words kept falling from her mouth."

Marissa stopped walking, and I did too, waiting as she turned to face me with an expression I was familiar with—she wanted to impart some words of wisdom. "Just be careful around him. Varen Crowther is like one of those signs you see when you walk into a shop with expensive things."

I arched a brow expectantly.

"Look. But don't touch." She grinned. "He is glorious to look at." She waved a hand at her face as if trying to cool herself down. "But you don't want to invite his interest."

I huffed a laugh. "Like the sign, right? Because I might break something...him?" I scoffed.

"Highly doubtful. He'll break you."

I rolled my eyes. I was unbreakable, purely because so far no one wanted to touch me. Well, apart from Tomas last weekend, and even that was rather chaste.

However, there was something I was curious about. My brows nudged together. "I thought he and Irma Szarvas...?"

Even I knew that Varen and Irma would eventually marry.

"I don't know," she replied slowly, carefully. "Since his brother's death, I don't think they're together anymore. She maintains they are, but he's certainly acting like he's single."

Her expression suddenly grew uncharacteristically solemn, and her blue eyes narrowed and darkened as she glanced away. She stared through the open doorway to where her family milled about on the terrace.

"Marissa?"

She didn't say anything for a long drawn-out moment, and just as I thought she wouldn't, she suddenly brightened with a smile. "Besides, Varen's an heir. And you're a servant. It's not as if he'd ever be interested in a servant, right?"

It stung like a slap in the face, fingers whipping against a soft cheek. It shouldn't hurt, because it was the truth. I was a servant. Sometimes, very rarely, Marissa reminded me of my place.