A soft creak sounded in the hallway and I turned, sucking in a breath when I saw Ezra standing behind me. So close I could reach out and touch him. His scarred hands were tucked into his pockets, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and he looked down at me in the dark with narrowed eyes. I hadn’t even heard him come up the stairs.
“Stay out of my room.” His deep voice filled the space between us.
He stepped around me before I could speak, the door latch clicking in the silence as he disappeared behind it. Soon after, the glow of an oil lamp illuminated beneath the door, touching the hem of my skirts.
I wasn’t a fool. I’d known when I got off that ship at the docks that joining the Roths wouldn’t be as simple as taking my mother’s chair at the table. I’d counted on the fact that to them, family was everything. It was the net that would catch me if I made a mistake or if I fell from grace. But there was a clear line drawn between those who belonged and those who didn’t. It would take more than blood to cross it.
FOUR
My room was filled with the smell of the sea.
I opened my eyes to the first of what would be many mornings in Bastian, drawing the damp air deep into my lungs. The footsteps of little feet trailed across the upper floor, where Noel’s children were waking, and the room was cold, making me burrow deeper into the quilts as I watched the birds outside the window. Their feathers were puffed against the early chill, their pale colors almost vanishing in the fog.
I shared a wall with Ezra’s room, and though I’d heard him late into the night, parchment rustling and footsteps heavy against the floor, now there was only silence. Daybreak was lifting over the city in the distance and once the sun rose just enough to paint the floorboards, I finally willed myself up and out of bed.
My trunk had been meticulously packed by Sariah’s servants, complete with the silver brush and jeweled hair combs she’d gifted me. I’d never liked decadence the way she had, but in my sometimes pathetic attempts to gain her approval, I did myself up in a way that I knew she liked. Among the Roths of Bastian, the pretense felt silly. But it was no secret what Henrik and Sariah wanted from me. I was the polished stone among them, and my uncle would make use of that.
I chose the simplest of my frocks, a dark purple with a full skirt and long sleeves that buttoned at the wrists. The fabric was warmer than the ones Sariah usually had me wear and raw silk would draw less attention out on the streets of Lower Vale. After fourteen years of being paraded before the elite of Nimsmire, I liked the idea that I could disappear.
The boots I’d brought with me were perhaps the only practical items in my trunk. They’d take the uneven cobblestones and keep my feet dry. I laced them up, keeping the cord symmetrical as I tightened them, and knotted the ends above my ankles. When I stood, I turned in front of the mirror, eyes falling down my reflection. I almost looked like one of the girls I’d seen out on the street yesterday. Almost.
The smell of freshly baked bread was thick in the air as I came down the stairs. The dining room was empty, but the kitchen was busy, and the sound of voices pulled me down the long hallway that led to an open door. A small square-shaped chamber was tucked into the corner of the house, where the fresh air from outside was coming in through propped-open windows that completely lined the walls. At its center, Henrik, Casimir, Murrow, and Ezra were seated at a round table. They looked up almost in unison as I appeared.
“Breakfast is at seven,” Henrik said, abruptly.
My cheeks bloomed hot and I reached up to the collar of my frock, fidgeting with the lace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
The stern look in his eye melted into a smile as quickly as it had appeared. “Well, now you do.” He pointed the bread in his hand at the empty chair beside him and Murrow gave me an encouraging nod.
Anywhere else in polite society, one of them would have stood to pull the chair out for me, but they kept right on eating. I may be of use, but I wasn’t a precious thing to them, I realized. And I found that I liked the idea as much as it made me nervous. I wouldn’t be handled gently in this house.
“Have you got a watch?” Henrik asked, still chewing.
It took a moment for me to realize that he was still speaking to me. “I—I don’t.”
“You’ll be sure she gets one. Take her to the watchmaker’s shop,” Henrik said to Murrow, who answered with a grunt. “We like things tidy and timely, Bryn. That’s what keeps this family running.”
“Of course,” I answered, carefully unfolding my napkin into my lap. I felt like a child being scolded, but the others didn’t look fazed by the reproach.
Across the table, Casimir’s attention was on the running yolk of his egg as he wiped it from the plate with his bread. But Ezra was watching me over the steaming teacup clutched in his hand. He didn’t hold it by the delicate handle. Instead, his fingers wrapped around its rim and he lifted it to his mouth, taking a sharp sip.
I dropped my eyes, placing a piece of cheese onto my plate.
“I want those deliveries made before noon, Cass,” Henrik said.
“It’ll be done,” Casimir answered.
“The bronze, tonight.”
Casimir nodded.
I wondered if they were talking about the bronze that Ezra had mentioned at dinner. It had sounded like they were discussing a ship inventory that was headed to port and Ezra was making his recommendation on what to lift from their hull.
It was the kind of job they pulled again and again, and it kept the coin coming in. It was also the same kind of job that had gotten my parents killed.
Casimir wiped his mouth before dropping his napkin onto the table. He stood, draining his teacup as the woman from the kitchen came gliding in, a fresh pot of tea in her hands.
She scowled at Casimir. “Now, wait just a minute. You’ve barely eaten a thing!”
He set the cup down on the little saucer, giving her a smile. It was the first one I’d seen on his face and it made him look more like Murrow. “I’ve had plenty. I’ve got work to do down on the docks.”
She gave Henrik a disapproving frown, as if expecting him to agree with her, but he ignored the exchange, cutting into the egg on his plate with his fork.
“A belly of tea will do you no good, Cass!” she called after him as he left the room.
When he didn’t answer, she set the pot of tea down with a huff.
“Sylvie, Bryn.” Henrik spoke without looking at either of us. “Bryn, Sylvie.”
The woman set both hands onto her hips, giving me a look over. “I see.” She smiled. “Welcome to Bastian, honey. Don’t let these brutes scare you off.” She let a purposeful gaze fall on Ezra, who looked thoroughly irritated by the sudden attention.
“I won’t.” I smiled.
“Messages?” Henrik grunted.
Sylvie shook her head. “None.”
A muscle in Henrik’s jaw ticked before he took another bite.
She left the room and my eyes trailed from Henrik to Murrow as I ate. Noel and his family were nowhere to be seen, so I could only guess they took breakfast at a different time. Many households did when there were children underfoot.
I didn’t dare look to Ezra, though I could feel his gaze every few minutes. Sylvie had made her quip at him with humor, but a clear truth was in the words. There was a balance of scales in this house and until I had some idea of what they were, I wasn’t going to take any chances with him.