Treasured

2)

Wren

My quarters were a little smaller than I imagined, but it had all the necessities I would need in it so I didn't care. There were windows on one side, but they had bars across them so that I couldn't fall out even when they were open.

My chests were placed at the foot of the bed which was a nice size. There was a wardrobe to put my clothes in, a desk facing the windows, and a rug that covered the majority of the floor.

"Would you like any help, or would you like a moment to yourself?" Fletcher inquired, watching my face for an indication of my preference.

I showed him two fingers, hoping he would understand. It took him a moment, but he eventually chuckled and nodded.

"Alright, I'll leave you be. I'll be back in half an hour to take you to dinner. Don't worry, it's informal so your attire is perfectly acceptable," Fletcher said, easing my nerves.

I hobbled back and forth putting my clothes away as I processed what I had seen of the school so far. It was beautiful as far as aesthetics went, and so far both of the people I had met were pleasant and polite. Even if I was destined to be alone for the length of my existence, the school wouldn't be horrible. At least I would be away from my cousins and Aunt's daily conversation.

I finished with my clothes, but there was no place to put my books, so I left the second trunk by the foot of the bed. The other one I stored beneath the bed where it would be out of the way. With ten minutes to myself, I settled onto the bed and briefly closed my aching eyes.

"Hey," a soft, calm voice disrupted me. "It's time for dinner."

I blinked, not prepared to see Fletcher's face in such close proximity. I flinched back into the pillows as fear threatened to overwhelm me. I controlled it though, wrestling it back into the thick, iron box I had locked it in before. I swallowed, warily looking back up to see Fletcher's reaction.

He seemed to be mildly surprised, but not off put by actions which quickly eased my fraying nerves. He gave me a smile and waited for me by the door.

"We're having duck, potatoes, and roasted vegetables," Fletcher informed me. "Sal makes the best food! He's really amazing!"

His eyes seemed to shine brighter as he spoke fondly of Sal. I supposed she was the cook, and maybe the maid as well since boys were notorious for being untidy. And if Fletcher liked her, she must have been gorgeous! I mean, he was quite handsome himself...

I stared at the stairs, swallowing as my leg began to ache fiercely. I had been traveling for so long it had stiffened horribly, and stairs had always taken the worst toll on me.

"Are you alright?" Fletcher frowned, reaching for my arm.

I jerked my head in the affirmative in the same moment I recoiled from him. I couldn't help but notice the flicker of pain and rejection in his eyes, but I didn't want to be hurt, or worse: soil him.

I began the descent, making sure to exhale as I placed my good foot down. It would be extremely painful if I fainted and took a tumble. And I'd be such a nuisance as well. I could just imagine how Fletcher would have to drag me up the stairs again, someone would have to go for the doctor, and someone else would have to clean up my mess.

At last I made it to the foyer, catching the worried glint in Fletcher's eye. I sighed dismally, hating that I was the one who had taken the bright look from his features.

We arrived in the dining room, and I paused briefly to process the sight. Eight men stood from behind the chairs, all in dinner attire, and in the same pose. Their feet were a shoulder width apart, arms comfortably crossed behind their backs with their wrists crossing each other. Their eyes were trained on the walls opposite to them, and they refused to respond or move even when Fletcher moved to take his place. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.