A Shift in Topic

Dante leapt to his feet, startling the servant. She dropped the coffee pot to the floor with a crash, and hot coffee splattered everywhere across the polished floor.

From where she sat, Shandrin made a surprised sound that was distinctly out of character for her usually composed self, but Dante was so fixated on the servant girl that he barely even registered the noise.

"I'm sorry, milord," the servant girl stuttered. Her large, dark eyes filled with fearful tears that were on the verge of spilling over. "I'll have someone clean it up immediately." Before Dante could move to stop her, she sprinted toward the kitchens and was gone.

The sinking feeling of disappointment welled up in the pit of Dante's stomach, and he slumped back into his chair.

"What happened, Dante?" Shandrin prompted.

Dante swallowed hard, trying to come up with the best way to explain what had just happened to his blind cousin. "Oh, nothing important," he said. "I just saw a pretty servant and scared her instead of seducing her."

Shandrin smiled in an amused way. "Well, it's good for you that Diego left, our you'd never hear the end of it."

"True." Dante stared at the kitchen, his pulse racing as he waited for the servant girl to come back from behind those doors. While he waited, he desperately tried to come up with something to say to her. He wanted to explain why he had acted toward her in that way, but he didn't want to let her know that he had seen her shapeshift the night before. He was pretty sure that it would embarrass her to know that, especially since she hadn't been wearing any clothes. He also didn't want Shandrin to know that he'd found the shifter already. She seemed nice enough, but he was pretty sure she could be as ruthless as Diego if given half a chance. Now that he knew that there was distrust of shifters in the Nascent, he wanted to find answers on his own, untainted from the feelings held by his kin.

"It might be best to leave the servants alone," Shandrin continued. "I doubt you're ready for a relationship."

"That wasn't why I was interested," Dante said quickly.

She flashed another patient, knowing smile. "You're definitely not ready for a child."

Dante opened his mouth to protest, but then snapped it back shut again.

"The paternity test would be all too easy, with the silver of your hair being a more dominant trait," she continued. "You wouldn't be able to escape your duties in grooming a freshly born noble of the Nascent, and I'm not sure you'd be suited for the role."

"I can't argue with that," Dante muttered, wishing that she'd change the topic soon. At the very least, he didn't want this to be the topic of their conversation when the girl returned. "I don't want to be a father."

The door opened again and Dante perked up eagerly. However, the girl who approached was shorter, her brown hair hanging long about her waist. Dante slumped back in his seat. The plus was that, at the very least, Shandrin wasn't going to saw embarrassing things about his poor potential as a father in front of the werewolf girl.

"What's the best way to contact a specific servant?" Dante asked Shandrin.

"You'd have to know her name," Shandrin said. "Also, did you not listen to what I just said?"

"I mean, it can't hurt to talk to her," Dante said.

"To oggle her, you mean," Shandrin shot back. "You really are a lot like your father. Maybe that's why the two of you don't get along."

"I think it's more complicated than that," Dante said. He drained his coffee mug, which had only been half refilled before he had startled the servant, and then set it back on the table among the splatters of spilled coffee that had hit the table before the pot had gone crashing to the floor.

Dante looked down at the servant who was wiping up coffee at his feet. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder if she was actually the other servant, but shapeshifted into another form. He kept his eyes on her as he spoke, not worried about Shandrin thinking his actions were odd. It wasn't like she could see him. "What is a werewolf, anyway?" He didn't see the servant react in any way. She kept scrubbing away at the floor without missing a beat.

"Someone who can turn into a wolf, or even something between a wolf an a human," Shandrin replied.

There still was no reaction from the servant.

"Ah. That sounds about right, then. Do they have any other forms?"

The servant didn't even react to that.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Ah."

With what he had learned, he was pretty sure that this wasn't the same girl but shifted. If she really was a werewolf, then she should only be able to turn into that lupine form.

The girl finished cleaning and started back toward the kitchen.

"Thanks for the info, Shandrin, but I have to go," Dante said, and he jumped up and ran after the girl. Even if she wasn't the werewolf, he still had questions for her.

Dante caught her arm before she could vanish through the doors, and she turned, eyes wide.

"I just had a quick question," he said. "The girl who dropped the coffee. What was her name?"

"She isn't in trouble, is she, milord?"

"Oh, no, of course not. I was just curious."

She hesitated. "Cloella."

Dante let go of the girl's arm. "Thank you," he said.

She curtsied and then rushed back to the safety of the kitchen.

Dante sighed and rubbed at the tuft of hair that he'd begun to cultivate on his chin. "Cloella," he murmured to himself. He chewed at the insides of his lips, but then smiled. He was no longer brash and impatient. The mystery that was Cloella had caught Dante's attention, and he would take his time unraveling it.