Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(54)
Saber and I are both silent until we’re safely ensconced in my bedchamber.
“Alone at last,” Saber says, and anyone would think it was an attempt at humor if they couldn’t see the flash of bitterness in his eyes.
“Oh, we’re never alone,” I say, and before he can utter any potentially damning response, I add, “M.A.R.I.E., fire,” to illustrate my point.
His eyes dart over to the fireplace as flames burst to life within. “Then why are we here? There are…quieter places.”
“Indeed,” I say, grateful the message was received. “And we shall visit them soon. But I thought you’d like to see your lodgings first. Put away your clothing.”
His eyebrows rise a fraction as his gaze sweeps to the enormous bed.
My cheeks flush when I realize the question he’s silently asking.
“Not with me!” I say quickly. Too quickly, and now we’re both blushing. It’s not as though I didn’t try to think up something different. But I can hardly risk assigning a ghost employee to the dormitories, I’m not foolish enough to ask him to share an apartment with my mother, and I’m far too embarrassed to even suggest he share quarters with my pathetic father.
The public rooms of the Queen’s wing are quite large and, as one would imagine…public. However, behind the Queen’s Bedchamber is a spiral of small rooms that are not only not open to the public, but have mostly been repurposed. One of the largest rooms, formerly the library, was turned into the bathroom. The Cabinet de la Méridienne is my dressing room, the library annex became the room in which my very large gowns are stored, and so forth. There’s a small room that was once called the Duchesse de Bourgogne’s Cabinet—the history of which, I confess, I don’t know—that’s now a small guest chamber.
It seemed like a better idea before my new assistant turned out to be Saber.
I lead Saber through the concealed door beside my bed and down a short hallway to a small, fanciful—and very feminine—chamber. White detailing covers the walls and molding, and soft lace curtains cover the single window, which overlooks a private courtyard reserved for the use of the Queen and her intimates. I push back a hysterical giggle as Saber stares at the light blue daybed with silken drapes scalloped along the top and hanging down on either end. It barely looks large enough to fit him at all, and though it’s likely more expensive and elegant than any bed he’s ever slept in, it seems most unsuitable.
But it keeps him near me and gives him access to all of the concealed passages associated with the Queen’s Rooms. As long as I avoid drawing attention to our unorthodox arrangement, I doubt anyone will question it. Everyone will assume he goes somewhere at night, like the rest of the servants.
Saber doesn’t seem to be nearly as pleased. He’s dropped his parcels to the floor and is regarding the bed with resigned disbelief.
“M.A.R.I.E., tidy up,” I say, so automatically I don’t even consider Saber’s reaction. A bot rolls in from the hallway leading from my bedchamber and immediately begins picking up the parcels and unwrapping them.
“Hey!” Saber begins, moving as if to stop the bot, and I grasp his arm with both hands, holding him back. I’m not sure how I’d explain it if my new employee were to actually break a top-of-the-line Amalgamated service bot.
He hesitates and looks down at me—something many men are physically incapable of doing. Particularly when I’m sporting heels. Though the look he’s giving me says let go, almost of their own accord my fingers tighten on his arm, feeling the ripple of muscle there. It’s strange to want to say so many things and feel the words stick in my throat.
He despises me. He’d likely despise me even more if he knew the reactions I have when he’s near.
“It’s better if you let them,” I say, struggling to regain my poise. “Even if you unpacked on your own, they’d rearrange everything once you were gone. It’s their way. M.A.R.I.E.’s way.”
“So this is how it’s going to be?” he asks softly. Venomously. “I sleep in here like your pet, follow you around and take orders, do your bidding in my cute little uniform? Did you actually need help, or were you just trying to lure me to the palace?”
“I didn’t know it would be you,” I explode.
“You had to have suspected.”
“I thought—” I thought he was too important. But I don’t want to remind him of the insult Reginald gave him in Paris. That he’s nobody. Indignant tears sting my eyes, and I blink them back. “I’ll have you know I’ve been running on fewer than four hours of sleep at a time for a fortnight. I can’t keep up on my own, and I can’t risk sending the work out. This,” I say, gesturing at the dainty room, “is the safest place for you to be in the entire palace. And not just for my sake; what do you think His…he would do if he discovered the truth about you?”
More emotions race across Saber’s face than I could possibly attempt to decipher, but finally his shoulders slump. “I’m sorry. Look, I don’t want to be here. But it’s not fair to take it out on you.”
“I’m sorry too,” it’s my turn to say. And I mean it; I sense Saber’s not one to apologize easily. “Come, let’s leave the bots to their duties—I’ll show you the back corridor.”