1.1 The Welcoming (Part 1)

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The summoning bell echoed incessantly throughout the Winterway House, marking the third hour from dawn. Within the Servants' Wing, all was thrown into commotion, with everyone running to-and-fro and out into the hallways.

Stilling a sigh, Nell eased open the pine wardrobe, sorting through her clothes for her day-uniform. All the other Lampgirls had already left their respective quarters—all but she. Above all, she regretted staying up till the midnight hour, just to wait for the First Moon to appear.

No matter. It was all worth a wish granted. She slid her stockings up mid-thigh, and put on her wimple, making sure that not a strand of her newly-shorn hair strayed out. Till two full years ago, Nell's tawny-gold locks were the envy of the lot back in the Kenns. But sacrifices had to be made, and hers was a small matter if compared those of a lesser fate.

Heels clicking, she raced through the hallway. On this day—this very important day—the last thing she wanted was to disgrace herself in front of the Masters.

Gods above and below, don't even think about it.

She happened upon two other Lampgirls, both of whom were no more than sixteen—her age when she was first employed. In her first year alone, Nell could scarce count the mistakes she'd made. Burning her fingers by touching the lit sunsilver lamps, or slipping off a stepladder and spraining her ankle. Nell herself was tall for a girl, and rather solidly-built. Strong legs and broad shoulders were good for wheeling carts of produce across the Kenns, but not here.

The Lampgirls were discussing a certain Miss Alyce Leitz. Ten nights ago, as Nell did recall, Miss Leitz had been summoned to her Ladyship's quarters, only to leave with a bitter frown.

"Can't say I blame her," the first Lampgirl said. "She's put up with it all these years too long. Poor Miss Leitz."

"Yes," said the second Lampgirl. "Though if she weren't so favored, then that worthless nephew of hers would not even be employed at Samarna. Hardly fair for the rest of us who'd have to earn our dues."

Poor Miss Leitz, indeed. Though it was highly unlikely she would be sent away without a proper reason. And Nell knew which nephew they were speaking of. Huron was his name, and she only saw him during the summers. She recalled him having an especially grating voice, and breath that smelled of sour milk and cabbages. Nell understood that the others's resentment mainly stemmed from Huron's undeserved privilege. Servants assigned to Samarna received higher wages than they who remained at Winterway, and word was that Huron was being paid twice the sum of that.

"Have you heard the hearsays?" asked the first Lampgirl.

"What hearsays?" the other replied.

"About this new Baron, Elliard Moreigh. Carin Ynfeor spoke of how magnificently handsome he was."

"Far more handsome than Lord Yrian?"

"Leagues above."

Not that the rumor itself was of particular importance, but nonetheless it caught Nell's attention, and annoyance.

"I doubt it's proper for us to speak of our Masters this way," Nell broke in. "It's impolite, and others might hear you."

For one, Yrian Balmere, the late Baron's stepson, was not particularly awful-looking. With a refined nose and prominent green eyes framed by thick, curling lashes, he carried the look of one descended from the line of kings. However, the severe expression he always wore made for a rather odd contrast with these soft features. Urse, herself one of Nell's peers, referred to him as rahawe—the coastal word for a type of longneck eel.

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