It took a few days before the Publici found themselves standing before the gates of the Third District. The air was thick with the scent of stone and wealth, the grandeur of the Noble Houses permeating every corner. Nobles on their gilded carriages cast fleeting glances at the oddity of the two, their expressions hovering somewhere between distaste and mild curiosity. Even the Saki, the ever-watchful district guards, seemed uneasy at their presence. Distaste lingered plainly on every face, though none dared act upon it. They saw Mistress Elissa's platinum ring glinting on her finger—a symbol of her rank within House Fell.
Standing beside them, a dainty, sharp-featured woman tapped her foot impatiently. "I welcome you into the Great House Fell's service," she said curtly. "It would be best to get off the street as quickly as possible."
Lock nudged Mirak sharply in the ribs, a grin spreading across his face. He leaned in and whispered, "Do you think I have any chance with—"
"If you finish that sentence," Mirak interrupted, his voice low, "I think she might toss us both back onto the street."
Lock snickered but fell silent.
High above them, on the upper balcony of the Fell mansion, a woman emerged. The sun caught her silver hair, which spilled down her back in waves, gleaming against the amethyst-and-silver banners fluttering in the breeze. Mirak's body froze as if rooted to the spot.
It was her. The woman from the market.
Her gaze swept over them like a hawk scanning for prey, her amethyst eyes catching and holding Mirak's for a fleeting moment. Purple clashed with stardust.
"Bow your head," Mistress Elissa hissed under her breath, her fingers forcing Mirak's chin downward. Her touch was firm, unyielding.
But Mirak's eyes remained locked on the woman above. She wouldn't recognize him—not like this. Not with this face. Yet, as she paused on the balcony for just a heartbeat longer, Mirak couldn't help but feel a gnawing doubt. Could she see through the mask granted to him by the Lady of Flesh?
He forced himself to glance at Lock, who was bowing gracefully, his head dipped low in a show of perfect deference. Then, as swiftly as she had appeared, the woman on the balcony turned and disappeared into the shadows of the mansion.
Mistress Elissa exhaled sharply. "You two will remain hidden and act only under the cover of night," she whispered, her tone laced with urgency. "I will be your handler, and you will follow the tasks the Revenant have given us. Do not draw attention to yourselves, and act like proper servants. This job took me fifteen years to achieve, and I will not have you ruining it."
Lock straightened and flashed a wry grin. "Never thought I'd speak to a Koona noble."
Mistress Elissa spun on him, her eyes narrowing. "If you don't keep your mouth shut, you won't be speaking to anyone. Now, follow me." She shoved them through the towering oak doors of the Fell estate, muttering under her breath. "Lancelot, you foolish, foolish man. What I do for you."
Mirak cast a sidelong glance at Lock. "I doubt we'll be speaking to any nobles. And we should hope that we don't."
Lock shrugged. "Maybe, but if I get the chance, I might try my hand at it. Never hurts to—"
"Quiet!" Mistress Elissa snapped, her words sharp enough to cut. She stalked ahead of them, her heels clicking against the polished stone floors. The massive halls of the estate seemed to stretch endlessly, their walls lined with intricate wood carvings that spoke of wealth and excess. Every detail, from the gilded frames to the lacquered floors, screamed opulence.
Servants moved briskly through the corridors, their heads down, whispering quietly among themselves. The air buzzed with snippets of gossip—rumors of this lord's temper, that lady's affairs—but none dared stop to linger in Mistress Elissa's path.
Lock leaned close to Mirak as they followed behind her. "It's not a mansion unless the help is gossiping," he muttered.
"I wouldn't know," Mirak replied under his breath. "I've never been in a mansion before."
Lock raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, they're all the same. Sure, the banners change, the colors shift, but underneath it all? The same festering rot."
A sharp crack interrupted their quiet conversation as Mistress Elissa's hand connected with the back of Lock's head.
"I do not need more servants gossiping about the business of this House," she snapped.
Lock winced, rubbing the back of his head as a few snickers echoed from nearby servants. He flashed them a crooked grin. "Was that really necessary? Now the entire staff will be talking about Mistress Elissa scolding her newest recruits."
The snickers grew louder, but Mistress Elissa ignored him, continuing down the corridor without a backward glance.
As they approached the kitchens, Mistress Elissa muttered to herself, "Where is Min when you need her? That girl is always disappearing at the worst possible moment."
A passing servant stammered, "Mistress Elissa, Min is in the kitchens… talking to a boy again."
"Of course she is." Mistress Elissa rolled her eyes and motioned for Mirak and Lock to follow. "Come. And try not to embarrass yourselves further."
When they entered the kitchens, the warmth and noise hit them immediately. Pots clanged, steam rose from bubbling cauldrons, and the rich aroma of roasted meat filled the air. Standing in the center of the chaos was Min, a young woman with wild energy and an unmistakable confidence. She stood chatting with a boy who, upon seeing Mistress Elissa, quickly turned and busied himself with chopping vegetables.
"Min," Mistress Elissa barked, folding her arms.
Min turned, her expression instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, Mistress. Batar was just being kind and promised to take me to the Starfall Festival in the city."
Elissa sighed but waved her off. "Enough excuses. I have new recruits, and you'll be showing them around. Just remember—pleasure comes second to duty."
Min turned to Mirak and Lock, offering them a warm smile. "Welcome! I hope we'll get along."
Lock gave her a roguish grin and bowed slightly. "It'll be a pleasure to work with you."
A grunt came from Batar, who glared daggers at Lock from across the kitchen. The boy's grip on his knife tightened as Lock stood a little too close to Min.
Mirak barely had time to roll his eyes before Min's gaze landed on him. Her smile faltered for just a moment when her eyes drifted to the shackles on his wrist. "Publici…" she murmured, her tone softening. "I hope I can lend you a hand if you ever need one."
Before Mirak could respond, Mistress Elissa cut in sharply. "Enough pleasantries. They're my relatives, and I expect you to treat them with the same respect you give me. Now, pay attention and follow carefully. You have much to learn."