*This book contains Book One and Book Two of the Alliance Series*
Book One: Alliance
She didn't want to hold a gun, but Mel Sparrow did not have the choice. The Rebels were crossing the Wall and leaking into her land, bring destruction with them. Wh...
The Housekeeper was a woman that looked much like a man. A small part of her reminded me of Mistress Elle, with the unkempt, frizzy, grey hair that was pulled back into a bun. The rest of her was not Mistress Elle.
The Housekeeper had broad shoulders, thick arms despite her thin waist and her nose large between her uncanny clear blue eyes.
Olivia and I stood in her office. I wouldn't necessarily call it an office. More like a broom closet minus the broom.
"You are to call me Housekeeper and no other name," she said in a low raspy voice that was somehow snippy. She stood from her desk and rose above us. She was a good head taller than me and a few inches taller than Olivia.
She stepped around her tiny desk to circle us both. "You will both work as kitchen maids. Every morning a guard will wake you up at three and take you to the kitchens." The woman stopped before us, "You are under the Brotherhood roof. You are nothing but insects underneath the men's feet. You are not to be seen nor heard. You are to do what is ordered of you to do. Anything."
The woman did not give us time to reply before she turned to her desk. Turning back to us, she pushed folded clothes into our hands.
"I will show you to your rooms."
Olivia and I followed Housekeeper down the hall and stopped abruptly to door 21.
"This will be your room. All the maids and kitchen maids live in this hall. The doors are locked when you enter and they remain locked until a guard or I fetches you."
She opened the door and Olivia and I walked in.
The door closed behind us, leaving us in total darkness.
"There has to be a light switch," Olivia mumbled. I heard her hand scrap against the wall looking for a switch. She flipped on the light to reveal a tiny room.
Two beds were pushed against opposite sides of the walls and that was it. No dresser. Or desk. Not even a window or rug. Just the beds with thin blankets and a bare lightbulb on the ceiling.
I turned to Olivia. Her face was a void. There was no emotion in her face or eyes. She was neither angry or sad.
"Are you okay?" I asked. It was a dangerous question in light of what just happened.
Her eyes did not look up at me as she spoke. "No. I am not." The words were just as flat and lifeless as her face. But in her eyes, something changed. The way her eyes narrowed, the way her eyebrows furrowed together.
Raw rage.
"I trusted him."
She couldn't say his name and I understood. I took a step forward. Taking her hand into mine, she looked up at me.
"We will get out of here," I promised.
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