Rise [Bruno Mars]

Chapter forty-eight

Chapter forty-eight

Even with Douglas as my shadow, I worried. What if one guard was insufficient protection against those who would inflict harm on me? What if I should fear him? Yet here we were, alone, descending a million steps, and he was quiet as a mouse, loyal as, well, a shadow. Each time I threw a glance over my shoulder, Douglas bore the expression of a wall. A kind wall. With contented family photographs.

I blinked hard. Insane how I compared this man's face to plaster. I rubbed my temples in slow, circular motions, where it faintly throbbed.

I led Douglas down unaccompanied by true aim, guided merely by gut instinct; it instructed to start on the first floor. I planned to look for Bruno, free him, then find the Dev's. Simple enough plan in thought, not in action.

More than once, I contemplated retreating. Being on Joseph's good side prevailed over being on his bad one. Joseph now lived the life of a very potent man, but I had been very close to locating the Dev's. Another second, and they would've been discovered. Over and over, Joseph's transmuting memories played in my mind, incomprehensible and igniting that anger in me all over again.

On the last step I pressed myself to the wall, panting while Douglas loyally waited. We passed underneath stunning flying buttresses made of archaic stone. Several refined windows revealed the bright and early morning. At the entrance to the vestibule, my breath paused in my lungs. It was much different than yesterday. Instead of being silent and desolate, crowds walked in all directions, some guards, some dressed in coats made for the laboratory, and others held stacks of papers, deep in conversation with a friend, their chatter filling up the grand room. The only thing kept the same was the paintings of my mother and father, above a churning fire and over-looking the busy palace. For a moment, I was dizzy with déjà vu.

"Is there a problem, miss?"

I continued to gape, regarding everyone's blindingly white clothes. "This is exactly like Grim," I whispered.

"This is Grim."

I swiveled to see if he was serious. "No," I said after I couldn't tell. For all one knows, my earlier wall metaphor could be true. "This is the Dev's home. Grim burned down a year ago." I waited for his remark, ready to argue. "Did everyone wear white before?" I questioned when the squabble didn't come, fairly disappointed.

"No, Miss Adrian. The laborers wore whatever color they pleased, except the scientists of course. I do not wear white myself."

"Until Joseph, right? He made them all wear white."

"Sir Joseph knows his fashion."

I scoffed. I wore no white, either. Just a loose, soft brown sweater with a long, darker shade of brown, skirt—not a conscious outfit choice—and nowadays, Joseph preferred black over white. To show his industrial-strength, no doubt.

"Where are the guest bedrooms, Douglas?"

"They are everywhere, miss Adrian. In the west, east, north, and south wings."

"Okay." I wrung my fingers, turning back to the sea of people, pushing down impending panic. "Okay. Well, let's get started."

Stares attended us wherever we went. I stuck out like a sore thumb, them in white and gray, and me in brown. A few were nice enough to offer a greeting, sometimes in a different tongue, the rest simply stared. I ignored them all, knocking on laborers' doors, Douglas ensuring a countenance of intimidation to ward off any foes.