Page 40 of Apple Boy

I inspected the garments Farrar sourced for me—a pair of Pewter-blue Sereinean britches that were cut with rather too much excess cloth for my liking, as I enjoyed showing off my taut backside in tight britches, but I could understand that these Sereinean garments would be quite comfortable and roomy. They were accompanied by a white linen shirt, grey silk jabot with matching belt sash, and an exquisitely embroidered waistcoat in turquoise and green. The look was completed by a pewter-blue frock coat—the whole ensemble coordinated to look fetching juxtaposed against the wheat field strands of my blond hair. The boots Adam gave me as a gift that once belonged to Evan Sewell were replaced by new, rather dashingly stylish blue high-heeled leather boots complete with bright silver seashell buckles.

Adam rose as I was dressing, and was much amused by my garb and keen to try on his own outfit. His garments were similar to mine but in shades of lavender and mauve, and his new high ankle boots jingled with seahorse buckles. We laughed at one another on donning our voluminous trousers and groaned about our new boots pinching as we paraded up and down the bedchamber. We paused together in front of a full-length mirror and, my, what a pair of dandies we were. The laughter faded and Adam scowled.

“I look like I should be in one o’ them traveling shows that comes on market days!” he huffed bitterly, none too pleased to be wearing such a colorful outfit after all.

“Where’re me old clothes? I’d feel much better wearing them.” He hedged.

“Oh, I expect they went straight in the fire.”

Adam pouted with irritation and sat heavily on our unmade bed his arms folded across his chest like a moody child.

“I liked dem boots!” he groused, his lips pouting. “Takes weeks te break in a new pair o’ boots!”

I shrugged my shoulders. Adam was right, of course. Lived-in boots were so much more comfortable. However, the battered old footwear we had given up to Farrar in exchange for these pretty heeled ankle boots were probably long gone too—and honestly, they would not have matched our splendid new attire. I knew Adam was not one to call attention to himself, and would rather remain in the background, but looking at him with his tea-stained curls framing his strong, handsome features, full lips, and emerald green eyes, that was never going to happen! Nobody with working eyes or a beating heart could walk past Adam Sewell without noticing him. Cleaned up and dressed in finery Adam would make women and men of Serein weak at the knees and weep with lust—and my heart danced with selfish delight that he was with me.

I decided that I would not take the star-fall with me to the tower. I knew there was dormant magic remaining in the city and so it would be premature keep it on my person without visiting the Great Council’s Tower first. The tower had been the center of all power in the city for six-hundred years, and I was sure that kind of magic would not have dissipated in twenty summers.

I needed to hide my Star-fall, but I was in a new household and did not trust the staff. I wanted to hide the gemstone where only I would know. When Adam was in the bathing room preening his hair in the mirror and taking his measure in the new garb, I searched for a hiding place. Hurriedly, I looked for a discrete nook in the lounge, and then in the bedchamber. I decided on hiding it in our chamber. I wrapped the gemstone in the emerald kerchief Adam’s mother had given me to cover up the thankfully, now faded bruises from my near death experience at Col Sewell’s hands. Deciding upon my hiding place I drew a large dusty religious tome from the bookshelf beside our bed, secreted the bundle behind it, and slid the book back into place. I would return for it after our meeting with the council.

A knock on the bedroom door alerted us that Mr. Elliot was outside. He led us through the warren of hallways in the expansive mansion and downstairs to a grand room that Mr. Elliot called TheGrate Hall. It was where we would break our fast. Mr. Elliot left us alone while he fetched hot tea and coffee pots from the kitchen.

The hall was reminiscent of a gentleman’s club like those I’d frequented in Thorn. Tall windows dressed with brocade silk drapes in gold and deep sea-blue lined the half paneled walls and above the paneling copper wrought sconces with an indigo patina were housed alongside art. An elongated dark oak dining table that could seat twenty or more was positioned to the right of the door. It was set with eight places. Again, I wondered if my uncle invited other guests, maybe for a secret Bloomsday party, but whoever these other guests were they did not show themselves whenever we were about in the mansion.

The dining table was laden with bowls of fruit, smoked fish, sausages, salted pork, eggs, porridge, dried berries, honey, bread, and jam. Such a spread I had not seen in months. There was far too much food for three, and yet Adam’s eyes grew wide like a child receiving a bounty of gifts. He appeared to revel in the challenge of eating it all and given time I did not doubt his appetite! Adam took his seat, and without bothering to wait for my uncle Ivon to arrive or for me to join him, Adam dug in. I gave him a reproving glare.

“What?” Adam said his laughing eyes glancing up from his over-filled plate. “It’s your fault I’m so bleedin’ famished!” He accused, a wicked glint in his eyes “T’was you that wore me out!”

I guess I must have over-exerted him last night and I could not hold back the guilty laughter, which rang around the high ceiling of the Grate Hall.

I did not sit with Adam. I found this room unsettling for reasons I could not fathom. The wall to the right of the table was blank, but there was the sun-bleached outline that proved something large, like a tapestry had been removed from the wall. Elsewhere portraits drew my eyes once more as they peered down, watching me with expressions of haughty curiosity. I took a turn around the room, and I noted that the frames of all paintings bore the carved alchemical and elemental symbols I’d seen on other artworks around Copperdall House. These paintings were more recent, and I pondered on the men and women whose faces I found almost otherworldly. Was every member of this De Belamine family so alarmingly striking?

At the far end of the room, a fire burned in an ornate black stone fireplace to take the chill from the early autumn morn. I recognized immediately that the hewn and shaped Obsidian stone fireplace was the very same rock that lay on the jagged coastline I was wrecked upon.

I paused beside one of the high-backed armchairs that were set around the fire and then, secreted in the floor in front of the fireplace I saw a line of ten square iron grates. I moved in and crouched to inspect the first one. The designs on the rim were elemental in nature; this particular grate held the design of a bright sunburst outlined in iron, others bore designs of clouds, waves, and rolling hilly landscapes. I ran my fingers over the metal and could feel engraved sigils beneath my fingertips, but they did not light up and glow in the same way they had done in the city when I held the Star-fall. The small openings in the grates were sealed shut, but none of them appeared to be rusted or damaged. I wondered what they were used for. Did this hall become so stiflingly hot that ventilation was required other than from the windows, of which there was a line of eight holding a stunning vantage point overlooking the city? I looked up and saw an ornate metal and polished wood lever on the wall beside the fireplace. I straightened and, curious as to what it did; I stepped up to grip it.

“Excuse me, my Lord.” I near jumped from my skin when Mr. Elliot spoke. I turned to see he was but a step from me, far too close for comfort and he wore a disapproving scowl. I had no idea how the blazes he was standing so close, and I had not heard his approach. My gaze flicked over his shoulder for a moment and I saw Adam tucking into eggs, bread, and fruit, oblivious to all but the contents of his plate.

“Please do not touch that. The grates beneath the house have not been cleaned out in many years, and I fear you would let a foul stench into the hall.” Elliot said flatly. He sent me a steely glare that made my skin crawl, and I felt afraid of him. What he’d just said made no sense, but I unhanded the lever and stepped away.

“Very good, Mr. Elliot. What are they for anyway? Why are grates in the floor and not the walls?” I asked in an off-the-cuff manner.

“Ventilation, my Lord. And as for the whys and wherefores, I am not an architect. I am a butler, I buttle. ” He said harshly.

Well! I was astonished by the tone of his response and with that frosty reply bristling my hackles; I stepped past him and strode toward the table. I slid onto a chair beside Adam. Mr. Elliot was soundlessly beside me once more, and it gave me the creeps.

“Tea, my Lord?”

“Yes, thank you, Elliot”, I said softly. I loaded my plate as Mr. Elliot laid a fine teacup beside my setting and poured golden rich tea.

“Eh. I could do wi’ a cup too, Mr. Elliot!” Adam said, grinning widely as he bit into a slice of thickly buttered bread. He kicked me playfully under the table and made me gasp out a laugh, cutting the somber atmosphere. Mr. Elliot pursed his lips pretending to not notice our waywardness and poured for Adam too.

“Who are the other guests?” I enquired. Mr. Elliot placed the teapot on its tray.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about my Lord. You, your companion, and Lord Ivon are our only guests.”

“Then why so many place settings?” Mr. Elliot scowled and then schooled his features.

“Habit, my Lord. The room looks so much better when the table is laid, don’t you think?” He said, but again, I was not convinced that he was telling me the truth.