Two

The moment the lock on her door clicked, Evelyn released a relieved breath. No more did she need to fantasize about a mug of steamed chocolate. Now she could have some.

    Darkness lay beyond. Evelyn unclasped her cloak, discarding it to a random corner of the room. Her boots landed with a dry plop when she kicked them away. Already she imagined the smoothness of warm chocolate and milk in her mouth. It called to her.

    The moment she lit a candle, her fantasies turned to dust.

    A stranger sat in her best chair, feet slung over the side. Their shoes were polished to an obnoxious shine, so bright Evelyn could've mistaken it for obsidian. They wore no distinguishing colors, but Evelyn noted the familiar curve of their eyebrows and the pinkness of their mouth – and the way staring at them made the shadows around her seem all the larger. Where had they come from?

    As soon as Evelyn opened her mouth, their eyes snapped open and they shook their head. "I wouldn't."

    "I-I have money," she replied, reaching into her skirts. She tossed her pouch of coins to the floor, as close as she dared.

    "I don't want your money."

    She stilled, heart hammering. "What do you want?"

    The intruder's eyes closed once more. Evelyn's stomach dropped; the lack of eye contact was disconcerting. More disconcerting was the way she felt like she'd seen them somewhere before.

    After a pause, their mouth opened and they said, "I hear you're the best apothecary for miles."

    Their tone sent shivers crawling up her back. "I try to be."

    "Everyone in the village swears by you."

    "How flattering."

    "Even the other apothecaries I've seen defer to you."

    Her stomach tightened further. Evelyn's gaze darted around the room, scanning for something – anything – to defend herself with. The closest she had was the dagger across the room. And she had to pass the intruder to get it.

    "That's... nice."

    "I've heard rumors of other talents as well." They tucked a strand of hair behind their ear. "You can restore life by means less orthodox."

    Her blood turned cold. "Surely, you are mistaken."

    In a flash, the stranger surged upright. It wasn't until they had her chin in their grasp that she realized they had moved at all. "Do not play coy with me."

    The urge to fight back boiled in her blood, but she stifled it. She twisted their wrist until they let go. Then, through gritted teeth, "I assure you, I know not what you are suggesting." As an afterthought, she added, "And if I did, you'd be hard-pressed getting me to confirm it."

    They leaned in close enough Evelyn smelled the spiced wine on their tongue. "We want to recruit you, you foolish little girl." They paused to scratch one tooth, and she noticed the severe point in their canines. "You know not what's being asked of you, and still you would say no?"

    Between the desperate jitter of their eyes and their urgent tone, Evelyn guessed well enough what they wanted. She could keep denying it – or, try to – but it was obvious this stranger wasn't content to relent on the matter. Instead, she focused on the bruise under their jaw, the way thin silver pins held their hair to their head.

    "Believe you me, I would prefer to have come here by honest means. And I tried to."

    Now she remembered them. Their clothes were different, but this was the same servant who had come to her shop just hours before. What had been their name? Miya?

     They released her jaw and took a step back. "Please, Miss Beaulieu, I speak of matters most important."

    Again came the urge to lash out, to scratch and bite and tear until this stranger turned tail and fled. And yet, she knew it was futile. She wasn't much of a fighter to begin with, and this stranger smelled of coffin dust and flame. There was no way she would win.

    With the defeated slump of her shoulders, she searched the room for her cape. "What do you want?"

    Now they swept closer. "You're skilled in the matters of the dead."

    Evelyn didn't reply. Admitting it would ruin her, and arguing was no better. Instead, she nudged her cape with a foot before picking it up. "I should wonder how you know that," she said at last.

    "The Lady makes use of many means." As Evelyn swept by them, they clasped her wrists with a grip of ice. "Please, help us. She has been wrought with grief since the Viscountess's passing. Pleasure will not rouse her." They paused, pink dusting their tawny cheeks. "If... there is any way to wake the Viscountess from her eternal slumber..."

    Evelyn chewed on a fingernail. "Do you understand what you're asking of me? This goes beyond your manor!" Sweat beaded her palms. She yanked herself away from Miya's grasp, thoughts rumbling on. "I-if I am discovered, more than ruination awaits me!"

    Their expression didn't change. "Lady Yoru can protect you."

    "Lady Yoru seeks to destroy me."

    "And yet you will face worse if you refuse." With great slowness, they pulled an envelope from deep in their sash. The wax emblem of Eien-Inoue Manor – a bird with rose branches piercing its breast – sealed it. Evelyn gulped.

    "What is that?"

    "Believe me, I do not want to have to use this."

    They held it out and Evelyn broke the seal with shaking hands. The words were uniform, typed instead of printed. "I of Eien-Inoue Manor..." Her eyes widened as she continued. "You would expose me?"

    They looked away. "If you cannot help us, no one can. We have no other choice."

    "And your Lady approves of such... deceit?"

    "She will understand such means are often necessary. What is good for the House is good for her." They took the letter back, redoing the seal with the press of their thumb and an exhale that spewed embers. "Come today, be home before the moon sets tomorrow night."

    She stared them up and down, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she did. The longer she stood there, the farther away her knife seemed.

    "Fine," she said despite the twisting in her chest. "I'll go."

#

They led the way with a lantern, one that cast shaky light on the dirt trail before them. Gravel and fallen branches crunched underfoot. The shadow of Eien-Inoue Manor loomed from the distance, a slumbering beast.

    Staring at the building's shadow made Evelyn shudder.

    "Are you cold?" Miya asked.

    "I..." She tore her gaze away from the horizon, focusing instead on the plants on the roadside. She brushed against strands of rosemary. A wild mountain flower curled around her wrist. "No, I'm quite alright."

    They didn't turn back, but she caught the stiffness in their shoulders. She bet if she could see their face, they would be frowning.     Light like jaundiced skin turned the forest floor sickly shades of green. No matter where she set her gaze or how many wild flowers she plucked, Evelyn's stomach knotted up tight.

    "Can... Can I at least learn of the woman I'm to meet?" she asked, gaze darting every which way. Each cracked branch made her spine roil.

    "You mean to tell me you know nothing of Lady Yoru?"

    "I..." Another branch snapped. Evelyn took a deep breath. "Know snippets. Mostly rumors, of course. It is hard to know about a woman who never shows her face."

    "A proper Lady she is," they said in a tone that suggested disagreement would lead to issues. "Has a wider network than the Elrish cattle o'er the mountains got, all from her own mansion."

    "I heard she's a Ximuchian spy."

    They stiffened and the lantern swung wildly. "She's Akalese, you--"

    "I know what she is." After a pause, Evelyn continued. "It's good, at least, that one theory of mine was correct."

    "And she is not a spy," they said. "Merely"--they waved a hand--"adept at gaining information."

    "There is a difference?"

    When they regarded her, their eyes gleamed like daggers. "It's a matter of how she uses it. And perhaps in the future, she will use her knowledge to gain an advantage.

    "There is a saying, you know." The lantern swung so hard it screamed. "About drakes. Drakes hoard gold and gems and all matters of things, enough to sleep on. If that is true, then Lady Yoru is a human drake of knowledge."

    "Fascinating." Though she said it, she found the words insincere. Still, Miya either didn't notice or didn't care enough to comment on it. Instead, they regained control of the lantern. Through the trees, large towers stabbed the clouds. Evelyn's stomach dropped.

    "We're getting close, aren't we?"

    "Quite right." They pulled at their sleeves. "We should be there before long."

    "How long?"

    "I cannot say – I am not sure."

    "Oh."

    Evelyn burrowed into her shawl. A bitter wind cut through the forest and deep into her bones. No matter how deep she stuffed herself, she couldn't shake the chill.

    "I do hope the Lady keeps the hearths roaring." The way they said it made it seem like an afterthought, but it was enough to take the edge off the winter air.

    Before long, the path turned from leaves and dirt to rough-cut stone. The bottoms of Evelyn's shoes did nothing to keep her feet from being cut up, but she didn't flinch. Around her waist, the toolbelt of bottles of pouches jingled – a reminder. Soon, she could soothe her wounds. For now, they multiplied.

    Up close, the manor sent a nest of shivering snakes down Evelyn's back. The shutters winked at her from above. The porch, concave towards the middle, creaked when they walked across it. A threadbare banner undulated over the doorframe, a deep grey-blue with silver embroidery. It was old, certainly, but still grand in its own right.

    The doorbell rang out loud and true, echoing into the dark. As they waited, Miya gave a tired sigh before popping their spine and searching for a hook to hang the lantern from. The moment the lantern was set, one of the massive doors swung inward enough to let out a heavy breath of lavender.

    "Who inquires on the manor of Lady Yoru?"

    The stranger lifted their chin, nostrils flared. "Miya has returned."

    The door opened wider, allowing a cloud of brown hair and burning brown eyes to peer out from the dark. "And not alone."

    "It is as the Lady wished."

    A pause, then, "So it is." Then the door closed, kicking up a cloud of dirt. Metal clicked together from the other side. After a final pop, like a puzzle piece fitting into place, the door opened again.

    The brown eyes raked up and down Evelyn's body, visually skinning her. Despite herself, she shivered.

    "This is the..." They paused again, head cocked. "The apothecary."

    "Yes."

    "Certainly looks the part."

    Evelyn looked down. Heavy patches of dirt marred her skirts. Scratches of various lengths surged down her arms. She ran a hand through her hair and came back with crackling leaves. It was as though the stranger had pulled her straight from her garden.

    "To her credit, I did surprise her. Somewhat."

    "So I see." They sucked on their bottom lip. "And yet not presentable to the Lady."

    Miya frowned. "So wash her."

    "Yes. We must." They opened the door wider. "Come in before you catch a chill. You're letting the heat escape."

    Evelyn wondered if heat already could escape, given the slight warp to the wall, but she didn't have the heart to ask. Instead, she let herself be nudged inside. The door slammed shut behind her.

#

Liquid more water than soap sluiced over her scalp in a steaming cascade. Evelyn shivered despite the heat and scratched her arms. The stare of the stranger massaging her was enough to turn her blood to ice.    

    "Cannot believe Miya allowed you to come here in this state," they said. "How embarrassing."

    Evelyn's cheeks warmed, but she kept her mouth shut. Soap bubbles stuck to her eyelids and mouth, elderberry in scent. Her nose wrinkled.

    "Your timing won't impress the Lady, but perhaps the smell might."

    "She likes elderberries?" Evelyn replied. The acrid taste of soap exploded across her tongue. I shouldn't have opened my mouth.

    The scrubbing in her hair continued. "We wouldn't have it if she didn't." They parted her hair hard enough she had to bite down a yelp. "Surprised you don't have lice."

    "Er..."

    "Seems hard to avoid in this area these days."

    Evelyn wiped her mouth with a soapy hand, slicked her wrist, and did it again. "The essence of tea tree helps with that."

    "I heard that in a rumor once." They shook their head. "Thought it was just a rumor."

    "I suppose, then, that I'm testimony it isn't."

    "Perhaps." Now they pulled their fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten it. Evelyn bit her lip until she tasted blood.

    "You can go gentler, you know."

    "I'm aware." Still, they continued their rough ministrations.

    Before long, Evelyn's hair fanned out along her shoulders. The servant scrubbed her skin with a rough sponge, turning the water grey.

Evelyn admired the splotches of pink around her elbow. "Don't think I've had a bath this thorough before."

    "You're a commoner. Of course you haven't."

    Evelyn clenched her jaw until it twitched.

    A knock sounded from across the room. The servant looked up. "Come in."

    From the other side came Miya, a bundle of blue-grey cloth draped across their arm. They kicked the door shut and stared into the room for several moments before saying, "Is she almost done?"

    "She'll be done when she's the color of a babe." The servant squinted through the steam. "Why did you bring her clothes in here?"

    "I didn't think she would appreciate being marched naked through the servant quarters."

    "Perhaps not, but it is better to parade her in no clothes than in damp clothes. That is good silk you're holding."

    "I am aware."

    "Then you should take it out and wait for her to be done."

    "Can I at least help? The Lady is waiting."

    "No." They raked down Evelyn's thigh with sharp nails, turning the skin red. Laying an arm across the tub, they continued, "She is almost done. Leave."

    Miya remained still for several heartbeats. Though their gaze was dark, Evelyn could feel its heat on her skin. Finally, with a dipped head, they retreated.

    "Goodness." The servant puffed out their cheeks and lifted one of her legs. "You're lacking in hair."

    "I—"

    "I don't understand the new habit of shaving your genitals. I don't think I ever will." With the shake of their head, they scrubbed her calf, then the soles of her feet. Evelyn hissed as their sponge ground into her cuts.

    Soon, a final, frigid rinse cascaded down her shoulders. The servant hauled Evelyn out of the tub and watched her drip. Soap and murky water formed puddles on the marble.

    "Come along now. We haven't all day."

    They left through the same door Miya had come in. Marble turned to wood underfoot that creaked whenever they moved. From the hallway of doors, they entered a room with plush grey carpets and enamel sculptures on the walls. In the center of the room was a tall, round cushion. They pushed Evelyn onto it.

    "So." They crossed the room to a large cabinet. "Evelyn Beaulieu, was it?"

    "Yes."

    "An apothecary, was it?"

    "Yes."

    "But that is not all."

    The cabinet doors clicked. Laden with bottles of various sizes, the servant came back to Evelyn's side and stared at her with a raptor's gaze. Evelyn trapped her hands under her thighs.

    "I-I suppose not." At the servants stern frown, she continued, "I'm a reader as well. And a sort of... entrepreneur."

    "And something else."

    "I don't—"

    "Do not play coy." Now the servant lay the bottles down one by one, pausing to turn the labels the right way." "We are all aware of your talents." They set the last bottle down before refixing their sharp stare. "And really, if not for that, you would not be here at all."

    Evelyn dug her toes into the carpet, amazed at how far they sank. Shivers surged up her spine. "I see."

    The servant grasped the first bottle in the row they'd made and popped the top. As they poured a generous amount on their palm, they said, "Tell me about your powers."

    She opened her mouth and quickly shut it again. A sharp hiss escaped instead as the servant rubbed her feet. "I... I don't know how I acquired them."

    "But acquired them you did." It wasn't a question.

    "Yes."

    Silence followed, filled by the gentle slap of lotion on skin. With great slowness, the servant moved from one foot to the other, then up her legs. At her knees, they asked, "How does it work?"

    Cinnamon filled Evelyn's nostrils. "I am unsure of that, too." The longer she sat there, the stronger the urge to fidget became. Her leg twitched at the thought. "All I know is sometimes it works fine. Sometimes, it works... at a cost. And other times..." She bit her cheek and stared at the floor. "Sometimes, no amount of poultices and herbs and praying will bring back what has been lost. Those are the toughest jobs of all."

    "Even this power relies on your main profession."

    "It would seem that way, yes."

    "Is it not difficult to keep these two lives apart?"

    "I've had my fair share of difficulty." At the servant's prodding, she stretched her legs out. "The trick is not to work both professions in the same location. For my secrets, I've had to venture far from Elderglen. Likewise, it would appear many go out of their way to find me." Leather squeaked as she shifted at last. "Thus far, I have been lucky."

    The servant's gaze darkened. "Is this the closest to home you've allowed your powers to be?"

    "In all of my history, no. But, in recent years..."

    "You've helped the peasants before?"

    Evelyn frowned. "I wish you wouldn't speak about them that way."

    "It's more than fair, the way their rumors poison our ears. Saying such... vile things about the Lady." Their ministrations turned harsh, like the rasping of a cat's tongue. "Before I came to the manor, I found it impossible to believe one could speak so freely of one they do not know. Now, I know better."

    "So you do the same to them as they to you?"

    For the first time since stooping down, they stared Evelyn in the face. Her throat clenched and she feared they might snap at her. No. The ripple in their shoulders suggested a physical response. And yet, the fire died from their earthen eyes.

    "You've managed to get us off-topic, Miss Beaulieu." Then, they returned to rubbing cream into the inside of her knees. "I only ask that which I desire answer to, so I shall ask again. You've helped the peasants before?"

    Evelyn's jaw twitched, but she couldn't find it in her to remain silent. "Yes," she said at last. "But I find most that I've helped have since.. been exhumed."

    "No doubt an example of this country's savage ways."

    "What's so savage in finding death sacred?"

    The servant let her leg drop. It bounced against her chair. With a sigh, they pushed themself to their feet and gave her a stare full of fire.

    "Let me ask you this, Miss Beaulieu.. Was death sacred to them when they hunted and sent hundreds of Luricae to their death? Others with your talents, set ablaze. Is that so sacred? Is it honorable for them to murder others to keep their slaves? Well? Is it?"

    Evelyn's heart constricted. Though she forced herself to meet their eyes, her tongue refused to work. Again and again she tried to speak, only to lack an answer.

    "...No." She lowered her head, damp hair slapping her chest. "I suppose it isn't."

    "And that is my point. The Elrish do not find death sacred, only that which fits their selfish culture."

    Again, Evelyn's tongue would not cooperate. For a long while, she stared at the floor, waiting for the servant to speak again.

    "I hope the Lady does not keep you long. For everyone's sake."

    With that, they turned her about. Though she couldn't see what they grabbed next, she smelled the vanilla in the air, heard the oil slicker their skin. A thin comb dragged through her scalp, leaving the oil in its wake.

    "Besides, your lack of punctuality will not go unnoticed. I'm sure her ire is already stoked."

    It would help if you weren't so meticulous. Even now, Evelyn found herself unable to say a word. She let them drag the comb through her hair, again and again and again.