That night, after the seven masters finished their dinner, we were sent to the drawing room to introduce ourselves. Rhiannon looked as emotionless as ever, Clo smirked in anticipation of it, maybe planning something, and Beth kept wondering out loud whether or not they were good-looking.

I seemed to be the only one stepping on my skirts and trembling. When we went up the stairs, I realized my hands had been in fists the whole time. I loosened them only to see imprints of my nail in my palms. It hurt.

"It's fine," Clo said, noticing me frowning at my palms—I must've looked stupid. "They might be your employers, but it's hard to find anyone willing to work here, so you have them in your palms."

"Really?" Beth asked, slowing down to catch up with us. "I wish we could talk to them though."

"We can't, Mister Kupka said we had to stay away from them," I said. "And it's not that I'm afraid they would be bad people, nor do I want something to hold over their heads—I just don't know. I've never had a home."

"And this won't be your home."

The cold voice surprised us. We looked up at the source—Rhiannon.

Her blue eyes were cold. Distant.

"This isn't your home, Shuyan."

I didn't know whether I was more surprised that she would talk to me or that she remembered my name. My real name.

"We aren't talking to you," Clo hissed. Rhiannon only turned away, and we continued walking through the hallway until we reached the parlor room.

It was even gloomier at night, with the curtains closed, only three lamps turned on, and a fire blazing in the fireplace.

The light casted tall and ominous shadows on the drearily dull floral wallpaper, and then Mister Kupka turned to us.

"Here they are," he said. "The four new maids we hired. Girls, line up."

At his command we lined up like we practiced before, Rhiannon, followed by Clo, then me, and lastly Beth. It was the order Mister Kupka had made, from tallest to shortest. We stared ahead and our hands were on our sides.

"This is Rhiannon Daugherty, who worked as a lady maid before for Miss Madison Granville, and her reference had high praise for her."

I peeked around the room, and was surprised to see the seven masters all facing us, staring at us as though we were on exhibition.

It was something I should be used to—in the orphanage people who came to adopt children always inspected me and questioned me like I was a creature—but there was something different about them.

Then I remembered: they had always lived without women. With the exception of three of them, the rest of them probably saw all four of us as equally curious.

"And the girl next to her is Miss Clotilde Hutchinson," he said, gesturing to her, "new to the service industry but she has work experience at a factory in Voxhollow."

"Why did you leave?" a little boy, with brown curls like a terrier, asked. He was wearing a dark blue suit, even as home, with trousers reaching his knees, knee-socks, and loafers. Even at home they dressed as though they were going to the royal theater.

There was a period of awkward silence before Clo cleared her throat while staring at Mister Kupka. Sighing, he nodded.

"You can speak if they ask you a question directly, Miss Clotilde."

"It's Clo, but thank you." She turned to the little boy and her face softened, into an expression I had never seen. "It wasn't a very nice job because people there were prejudiced against people of my kind."

"People of your kind?" The boy frowned. "Are you not English?"

"I am," she replied. "I was born here and my parents were too, but I was never accepted because my skin is of a different color."

There was silence before the little boy whispered.

"That's unfortunate."

"Yes, it is."

"May I go on, Master Elias?" Mister Kupka asked, and the boy nodded.

"Next is Miss Shuyan, who has only recently left Saint Agatha's convent, an orphanage as well as church. She is an orphan and worked there for a few years before leaving to find domestic work and coming to Beardsley."

They all turned to look at me.

"Where are you from?"

This time it was another boy asking. He was the youngest there, with pale blonde hair that looked orange from the fire in the fireplace.

"I do not know," I whispered. "I only know my parents were Chinese, and I was left at the orphanage as a baby."

"Your English is good," another boy, with neatly combed golden hair and a big smile, said. He looked my age, or maybe younger. Then he turned to a boy who looked like his mirror image, sitting across from him, and said, "Talking about English, how did you do on your last English test, Valentin? Did you fail again?"

The boy, Valentin, scowled. "It was only one exam that I failed! Mister Green has been tutoring me."

The boy, Augustin, laughed, but his teasing was good-natured, and his twin only seemed mildly annoyed.

"Augustin, Valentin, stop bickering in front of our maids," someone in the armchair said. "Let's allow Mister Kupka to finish the introductions."

Mister Kupka nodded.

"The last maid is Miss Bethany Clock, also new to domestic work. She applied here because no other place was willing to accept someone so young and inexperienced, but she promises she will work to the best of her ability." At this, Beth beamed.

"It's a pleasure to have you girls here," the man next to fireplace said. He sat at the biggest armchair, brocaded red and gold, arms on the armrests, legs crossed. He was dark-haired, with a bit of a mustache on his upper lip. His dark brown hair was a bit long and reached his neck, combed back and showed his widow's peak.

I could sense from his aura he was different from the others: he was dressed sharply, in a black evening suit as though for business, and carried himself with confidence. Most of all, he was, without doubt, handsome.

"I am the eldest son, Silas Beardsley. I heard about how my valet, Phillip treated you two." He looked at Clo and me as he said this. "Please forgive him for his behavior, he is simply unused to change, as he grew up in a different generation. I hope you can find it in your heart to understand and forgive him." Everyone looked at us, waiting for our reply.

"It's fine, Mister Silas," Clo said, first. I was glad she took charge. "I can understand it, but I don't think I can not judge him, as with others who treat people differently simply due to their skin color."

We all held our breath. I could imagine Mister Kupka tightening his jaw and getting ready to lecture her later.

I looked at Mister Silas's face, and was surprised to see him smiling. He seemed almost amused.

"I would argue here that only the Lord may judge us, as father always told us, but I shall leave it at that." He turned to his brothers. "Where's Tobias?"

"Here."

Tobias turned around from his chair at the chess table, where he was sitting alone, studying a half-played game of chess. Was he studying how to make the next move, or playing alone? Either way, it was kind of sad.

"I'm Tobias Beardsley, the second eldest son."

Tobias had shorter dark hair, combed to one side, and paler skin as well as an almost androgynous face, also beautiful in a way. Yet the air about him was different: he watched us with narrowed, almost wary eyes. After speaking, he turned around again, as abrupt as before, and focused on the chessboard again.

"Eugene isn't here, so I'll go next," said one of the twins, the one who spoke to me.

"I'm Augustin, and I like reading. I am almost always in the library here, and if you want to borrow a book, feel free to. And he—" he turned to the other boy, "is my younger twin, Valentin."

"I'm Valentin," he repeated, eyes not looking at us.

Despite their similar exteriors, they were extremely different. Augustin was playful and good-natured, even charismatic, but Valentin's face only held a scowl and even when he spoke, he muttered.

"I'm Elias," said the next boy, the one with small brown curls, with a smile, and then the next and last one went.

"I'm Olive," said the littlest shyly, and then he gave a toothy grin.

"These are the six sons of Lord Adam Beardsley," Mister Kupka said. "Only the third son, Master Eugene, is not present."

"Yes, Eugene is sickly so he often stays in his room alone. Anyways, It was a pleasure meeting you girls," Silas said. "I hope you will enjoy working in the House of Beardsley." An artful smile danced on his thin lips.

With that, we maids bowed in unison.

"Thank you, Master Silas," Clo said with a perfectly composed smile.

"Yes, Mister Silas," Rhiannon and Beth said.

"Yes," I said, but my voice slowly faded. I felt my fingers tremble ever so slightly.

Our contract with the House of Beardsley had been signed.

And there was no going back.