Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Sixty: A Truth

This was stupid.

She was being stupid.

No matter how many times she thought it, Nova didn't turn around. No matter how many times she pictured, in vivid detail, what the lord would do if he caught her. Brillan hadn't tied her up in the kitchen the previous evening, being too busy attending to the lord's guests, and she hadn't been able to resist sneaking out after Jeorge had fallen asleep and the last of the household staff had gone to bed.

She had bunched up her chain and clutched it to her chest to stop it rattling. There were still guards patrolling the corridors, but their armour always gave them away long before they'd have a chance of spotting her. They would never hear her first, as long as she kept hold of the chain.

Truth be told, she wasn't entirely clear on where Grace's bedroom was. She knew it would be in one of the communal maids' bunk rooms, but there were several of those for a household this big, and she'd never been down there. Another reason this was a terrible idea. If the wrong person spotted them it could end everything; Grace would be sent away for sure, and Nova could probably count on spending the next month in the cage under the lord's chambers, if not longer.

Her feet were freezing. The whole staff wing of the castle was largely without rugs or carpets, and the braziers burning along the walls barely touched the chill. She wished she'd brought a blanket with her, or wrapped her feet in linens so they didn't hurt so much. All her oldest scars were aching. The cold had burrowed right into her bones.

She reached the maids' quarters, and cursed softly when she found all the doors to the bunkrooms closed. They were heavy things with metal ring handles; they would be noisy, and if one attempt didn't wake anyone up, trying the entire corridor certainly would.

She hesitated, biting her lip, and almost turned around. A noise at the end of the corridor drew her attention and she ducked around a wall as a candle threw light and clear-cut shadows over the doors.

Go inside. Her breath was loud in her ears. Go on.

The intruder didn't go inside. Instead they began to creep towards her, candlelight flickering madly. Nova looked over her shoulder, breath coming faster, trying to calculate a way out, but if she left the shelter of the wall she'd run straight into this person's view. She wasn't exactly an obscure face, either; everybody knew who she was.

This was so stupid.

"Nova?" Grace hissed, appearing around the corner. Nova sagged with relief. In the light of the candle she was holding, Grace looked exhausted. "What are you doing here?"

"How did you know it was me?" Nova scowled. Her heart was pounding; Grace could probably hear it.

"You're hard to miss," Grace retorted. "No one else runs round the castle at night with no shoes on."

"I would have worn shoes if I had some." Nova crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. It was even colder now she'd stopped moving.

"Christ, you must be freezing," Grace muttered, swapping the candle to her other hand and tugging off the blanket around her shoulders.

"Keep it, you'll get cold."

"There's a fire in my room, I'm warm enough."

Nova took the blanket and wrapped it around her. She stiffened as Grace's body heat, the smell of her, wafted into her face. She was being stupid, stupid; the lord had given her the perfect opportunity to stop things getting too far, and she'd gone and sneaked out instead of taking it, all because she couldn't let it end without getting the last word in. She should have just let it burn out by itself.