The day after the market I finally saw Master Eugene in his room again. It had been almost two months since I last saw him. I couldn't help but sigh in relief.

Like always, he was dressed in his night-clothes, and his hair was tidy and looked soft, like a child's under the sunlight from the window. The curtains were open, and he was gazing outside until I came.

"Good morning, Miss Shuyan," he greeted me, eyes softening. "You're smiling really big today, did something good happen?"

I touched my face—I didn't even realize I was smiling. It must've been because of yesterday and the relief at finally seeing him. I thought that he might've been forced by Mister Silas to never talk to me again.

"I went to Ravensborough's Market yesterday with the other maids," I said as he got his cane and got out of bed.

"And how was it?"

"It was a beautiful place. It was lively and there were so many various stores. I even petted a cat."

"Sounds wonderful." He propped his elbow on the armrest of the chair, leaned his head on his hand, and watched me with a gentle expression. He had a habit of doing that, and it made me nervous. It didn't make me feel like I was being appraised or scrutinized, like I often felt in public, but something else. Like I was being looked at as a girl—which might've even scarier. I had took off the sheets and was spreading on the covers when he spoke again.

"I'd like to go to Ravensborough's Market again some time. I haven't been to the town in years, in fact. I wonder if it changed." He laughed to himself. "No—it must've changed. Everything changes."

"Yes." I nodded. "There were a lot of stores that seemed new, and they sold everything. It's different, seeing merchandise laid out in stores like that. Ravensborough is big."

"The town is only a part of it," Eugene laughed. "There's also Ravensborough Park. It is beautiful, with lots of trees and flowers. It's nice for scrolling and sketching."

"You sketch?" I was smiling, surprised at this new fact about him. He grinned bashfully.

"Yes."

"I'd love to see it someday, if it doesn't bother you," I said. Eugene looked at me, then ran his fingers through his hair.

"Maybe, one day. I've always drawn landscapes—but now I don't go outside anymore. Silas wouldn't let me."

At the mention of the name, the mood changed. I finished tucking in the sheets, and then stood up. I had to think of something else to say.

"What other places around here do you recommend?"

"Me?" He looked back at me.

"I don't know what to recommend," he murmured, and gave me a sad smile. "As a child I lived with my mother and father in the countryside. It was only after the carriage accident that Lord Beardsley adopted me and I came here."

I froze.

"But," he continued, "Silas might know, since he's the only one who really leaves the house, although it's for business. I would like to say Augustin, too, but he only goes to buy books."

"I see." My voice was low.

"Is something wrong?"

"Master Eugene—" I paused.

"What is it?" His voice was soothing and gentle, luring me to ask what it was that I was so curious about.

But I wouldn't.

I choked back my words.

"No, never-mind. I was just wondering about your childhood. Can you tell me more?"

"Sure!" Eugene stood up and nestled into the newly-made bed as I started dusting the furniture.

"I remember my mother and real father quite vibrantly. My mother was a petite woman with dark hair like you and bright eyes. She wanted a daughter, so I ended up growing up learning feminine things like making tea and how to take care of small animals. But I don't mind: even now I smell tea and get reminded of her, and I keep pets despite how much Silas despises them.

"My father was a collector of art and sculptures. We have the same hair and eyes, and people always said we looked alike. I remember he was never much of a hunter or horse-rider like Lord Beardsley was. My real father was the older son, but because he was obsessed with art, my grandfather chose Lord Beardsley to be the successor. It suited him better, though."

"Was Lord Adam Beardsley more like Mister Silas or Master Tobias?" I asked.

"Hmm," Eugene murmured, looking at the ceiling. "Well, he was tall, intimidating, with long hair, and in that sense he was like Silas, but personality-wise he was more like Tobias."

Tobias?

"How, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He was actually very sensitive and kind inside." Eugene fell quiet for a while. "Although he never spoke, I could sense that he pitied me and tried to make life here at Beardsley as comfortable as he could for me, but—"

I stopped and turned around to see why he suddenly stopped.

Eugene was suddenly looking down at his lap, shoulders slumped down.

I had never seen him like that.

"—but life inside this house can never compare to the outside."

His voice was sad, with a hint of yearning for something he knew he couldn't get. I wanted to tell him we could go to Ravensborough's Market together one day, but I knew that wasn't what he really wanted. Without your legs, without your parents, without your childhood, even the closest thing cannot replace it.

"Master Eugene?" He turned to me, and I clammed up.

"I—I wanted to say, next time if you want anything from the market, you can tell me. But on second thought, Matthew or another valet can get it for you." I laughed a small laugh. "The bed's done."

"That's kind of you." He stood up and sat on the bed, but not in the sheets. "Actually, next time if you go, tell me. I'll think of something to get. I always wanted something colorful for my room."

"It'll be my pleasure."

When I finished cleaning the rest his room and left, I let out a long breath. I had swallowed the question, but I couldn't push it out of my mind.

He was lying.

No, to be accurate, they were lying.

If Master Eugene had the leg injury since his childhood, he couldn't have visited Ravensborough's Market. Yet he said he had visited it a few years before, but he moved here after the accident.

That could only mean he injured his legs after his parents died—in a separate incident.

At a different time.

In the house of Beardsley.

***

When I went to the head butler's office, Mister Kupka looked at me with a bushy white eyebrow raised.

"So, Miss Shuyan," he said, "what was so secretive that you came to see me during time you should be working, and with the wish that I keep it a secret from the others?"

I looked at his milky eyes and steadied myself.

"Mister Kupka, there's no use pretending."

He pulled back and looked up at me in surprise from his seat when I said that.

"Oh, okay. Why don't you take a seat first, Miss Shuyan?" He gestured to a chair that was placed against the wall of his office.

My eyes tracked to the door, checked that it was locked, and then finally lifted the chair and brought it to his desk, facing his.

Mister Kupka capped his fountain pen, placed away the papers that sat on the table, and then folded his hands. He was always an orderly person, but now, more than ever, he was showing me he was giving me his whole attention.

I brushed a strand of hair away from my face before I spoke.

"Today I spoke with Master Eugene—with him initiating conversation. But it doesn't matter anyways, because you know about the—uh—the issue—"

"The issue of the inheritance," he said for me. I nodded.

"Yes. Master Tobias has appointed me to protect him from the struggle that would ensue." I stared at my hands, suddenly embarrassed of how easy it sounded, even though it was obvious I was weaker in every sense, from status to strength.

"Then I won't lie either," Mister Kupka declared, leaning back in his chair. I inspected him carefully.

What did he mean?

"I was appointed the overseer by Lord Adam Beardsley, as I was his late valet and am not biased in any ways. I will hire the maids, watch as they compete for the inheritance, and give the winner the title of heir. I am neutral and you can come for me for help. Miss Rhiannon has accepted the proposition too, but she, under Silas's rule, is not allowed to talk about it to me."

I gaped at him.

"But that is all I know so far. I simply wished to lay everything on the table and show you that you may trust me. Continue with you story now, Miss Shuyan."

"Oh, sure." I looked back at my small, weak, and helpless hands. "Why is everyone here lying about the accident concerning Master Eugene's legs?"

"Hmm." Mister Kupka pushed his spectacles up higher on his bony nose. "Now that's one thing I didn't expect you to figure out so fast. I'll be honest, I don't know whether that is something for me to say or not. There are some things even the head butler shall pretend to not know."

"Huh?"

"If you still want to know, you should ask Master Eugene—or actually, you should ask Master Tobias."

"Master Tobias? But what has he got to do with this?" Instead of answering, Mister Kupka simply stood up. "I'll ask him to leave time for you tonight. You can go to his room."

"You—you knew?" I didn't know whether to feel embarrassed at the idea of having him know I went into a man's room alone at night or feel scared at the idea of him knowing every action I made.

"I told you, Shuyan, I am the overseer." He lifted his chin in confidence and then walked to the door. "And Master Tobias has been wanting to finish your chess game from the other night, too."

I'm guessing Master Tobias told him everything. Well, it was to be expected, but it still didn't sit quiet right with me. Were the conversations that I had with Eugene also supervised, or relayed?

I clenched my hands into fists as Mister Kupka opened the door for me and I walked out.

No. Master Eugene wasn't like that. Everything between me and Master Tobias might've simply been business, but it was different for Master Eugene.

I thought of his smiles, his little chuckles, the way he covered his mouth as he laughed.

It had to be different.

Then Clo's voice rang in my head, again:

"I don't know what it is that's made you care so much about Eugene—but don't forget. He is a Beardsley, and there's more than just status dividing you two."

I ran down the hallway, wanting to run away from everything, from the confusion, the schemes, Master Tobias, Clo's words, and the house of Beardsley—but I was trapped.

I had been trapped a long, long, long time ago.