Chapter 15 ∞ Spy

Veils. I wasn't wrong to assume that they were, technically, emissaries of death. I still didn't know much about them even though Amber had told me a few enlightening things last night. I was too focused on doing the tasks Mistress Kora had asked of me and he disappeared before I had the chance to say goodbye—not that I really intended to.

I wanted to call him, but what was I to say? Amber was just a name I decided to call him on my own because I didn't know what he went by. We never were really properly introduced. This time, I forgot to ask because of what was happening. Besides, even if I knew his name, calling it out in the darkness would be really stupid. I didn't want to look anything near that.

By next evening after that eventful, moonless night, the stranger we had taken in had finally woken. As I was adamant on taking responsibility for his welfare, I brought him some stewed beef—just the soup part without the beef. If there were any meat, they were small bits he could swallow easily. His injury didn't really allow him much leeway about what he was going to eat. Kora said he would have a hard time swallowing with just the stub left in his mouth. However, considering it was only partially severed, he still had hopes of regaining speech and he would still be able to taste his food. There would be difficulties, though. Without intensive therapy, he would have a hard time and he wouldn't be at a hundred percent.

None of us were equipped to helping him with that. I knew a little about speech pathology considering the nature of my studies in my past life, but I never really got into the therapy part because I died particularly young. I knew an easier way to help him, but that would be assuming that he'd be staying a while.

"You're finally awake. After last night, we didn't think you'd make it," I said.

It was true he was on the verge of dying. If it hadn't been for Amber's interference, he would have surely already perished by now. Those Veil things weren't something to casually mess around with.

"My mother cooked some soup before they headed off for duty. It might be painful for you to eat, but you haven't had anything for the last few days, so it's important to eat something at least," I said, kneeling on the pillow beside his makeshift bed on the floor as I placed down the tray.

His eyes followed me as I moved—I didn't really know what to make of it, but it was making me very self-conscious. I wanted so much to know what was going on inside his head. I sat there hesitantly, my tongue tied as I wondered what to do next.

"Can you sit up?" I softly inquired.

Nobody really oriented me in nursing back the injured. I was inwardly tearing at myself for even thinking this—helping a stranger. What sort of saint from heaven descended and possessed me to be doing this? Was it a savior complex of some sort? Or just pure curiosity after encountering those strange things?

No matter. People made strange decisions when life made an abrupt turn—almost as though the universe made them do it without really explaining why. I would just take that reason, partly because it was convenient and partly because I no longer wanted to think about it. Besides, what exactly was I taking myself as? A heartless bitch? Nah. I might not be that kind, but I was capable of sympathy.

He just stared before lightly moving his head in the likeness of a nod.

"Then please don't mind me," I muttered, reaching my hand around his shoulders and carefully propping him to a sitting position. He had a wound on his side so I was very careful not to aggravate his injury, moving him slowly until he was upright. He didn't let himself be too much of a burden. His hands were functioning albeit weakly, but I noticed he had abrasions across his knuckles—signs of getting into a fight of fists. Bound between his fingers, the amulet clinked. It shone a faint silver and blue under the light.

I did not comment on anything. I knew he had a very violent experience, though.

"Good," I said. "Mistress Kora said your injuries should no longer threaten your life." Especially after I saved your ass from those shadow things. Dude, I think you owe me. But, of course, I didn't say that out loud.

He nodded.

I looked at him quizzically before eventually remembering what it was I needed to do. I picked up the soup from the tray and set it on my lap. His hands moved, twitched really. He pointed to the clock sitting on the wall across the room.

"Time?" I asked.

He shook his head.

Of course he knew that. He could probably read that clock which was pointing at seven in the evening.

I racked my mind and shortly realized what he was trying to ask. "The day?"

He nodded.

"A week and a day after I found you injured," I said. "You can stay here and rest for a while until you recover."

His eyes fell to the soup on my lap. I heard loud growling from his stomach.

The corner of my lips perked up and I lifted the spoon to his mouth. I could see he was very embarrassed to accept the help of somebody else, but he knew he was weak at the moment so he simply hung his head low and accepted.

"My name is Evyionne, by the way," I told him. "A little late in that regard, but better than never."

His one eye I could see was very expressive. It felt like I knew what he was thinking even though he wasn't talking. After I fed him all the soup, I immediately retreated. I felt that it was too awkward to remain in the room and there really was no reason to stay. I wasn't the talkative type like Erenol, nor was I good at maintaining the conversation from just my end. It would be good if he could talk at least, but he couldn't. Aside from nods and shakes of his head, there was nothing else he could really do. Write? His hands weren't healed. It would just be calling for trouble.

Aunt Safia had been outside, perhaps listening in to what I was doing. When I saw her, I had to take several steps back in shock.

"Aunt Safia, you scared me," I muttered.

She merely smiled. "Go on and rest, child. I'll watch over him," she told me.

For some reason, the tone of Aunt Safia's voice really didn't comfort me. It was its usual, calm tone—kind of like chimes ringing from the brush of the wind. However, I could not help but think she was going to do something. I cast one last look at our guest, realizing there may be a lot more going on than I knew of. My mistresses might have already caught onto it, but I needed to find out more about it myself.

I became a little suspicious. I carried the bowl to the kitchen as the music from outside faintly rolled in through the cracks of the windows. Aunt Safia's senses were keen to make up for her lack of sight, something she told me she honed in her many years. She would know I was there, no matter how quiet I made myself to be. Even if I tried to eavesdrop on whatever she planned on saying, my bet was that she would never say it in my presence.

But this was also an opportunity. After setting the bowl on the sink, I opened the faucet. I let the water run and stepped back. I took the oil from the cabinet and poured it on the hinges of the door to make sure it made no creaks. I made sure to oil the knobs as well, just to make sure I made as little noise as possible.

I wiped my hands down my dress and opened the door quietly. Thankfully, as I expected, it didn't belt out any dreaded squeak. I pulled it close behind me as I stepped under the night sky and into the herb garden outside. I was not allowed to leave the residence area during service hours—the number one rule. I never really broke it until now.

I took off my shoes and made sure to step on the cobblestone paths. It was a good thing I just swept and scrubbed these things. Otherwise, the growing weeds on them would be tricky to avoid. The darkness made it hard to see and the lanterns were hardly of any help. I knew this place like the back of my hand though, so it wasn't a lot of trouble for me.

I made my way around the house and on the wall of the lobby. I wasn't sure if I would be able to hear them this way. Treading over the many bushes, trying not to make a rustle, I pressed my ears against the crack in the wall—one that I was all too familiar with.

"Your wounds are almost healed in just that short of a time. Indeed, as the rumors say, your people have a monstrous physique. This manner of execution is only done to your kind—any other method doesn't really kill you well, does it?"

What the hell? What did she mean by that? She talks as if 'his people' weren't humans.

"You were poisoned with the blade used to injure you. Managing to be alive at this point is a miracle—you owe it to her," Aunt Safia's voice echoed. "However, that child is much too naïve with the happenings outside these walls. She doesn't know what she can do just yet."

There was a pause.

"She is not simple much like yourself. And while the poison has successfully abated, Kora was only able to seal it to sleep. You will need the antidote if you wish to recover fully. Otherwise, when it reacts again, I don't think even Evyionne is capable of saving your life. There is a limit to how much one can do with their ability."

I frowned. I never knew he was poisoned. Mistress Kora never said anything to me. Maybe he treated him while I was away picking herbs?

Besides, how did Aunt Safia even know what he wanted to say? He was basically mute, she was blind—how the heck do they understand one another? I moved to scratch my head, then hurriedly bent low under the bushes when I heard voices nearing from faraway. I gathered my dress and bundled it up so that it wouldn't be spotted. I then sank beneath the leaves, trying to hide in the shadows.

"You've packed yourself some real trouble this time," I heard a man say. "Why couldn't you have just walked away? Your Oblivion has always steered clear of matters that endangers your neutrality."

Crap. Crap.

"Do you really think that taking a guest out of kindness means Oblivion will make a move in this struggle?" Mistress Lamia huffed. I caught the train of her silken blue dress brushing down the cobblestone paths. Beside her was a man wearing a dirtied pair of brown boots. The scratches ran rampant along the sides.

"Kindness?" the man repeated, laughing. "Kindness is the last thing you have, Lamia."

Son of a—how dare you assume that, bastard! You know nothing of my mistress! Lamia might seem like a coldhearted bitch, but that's because that's what she wants everyone to think of her. Over the years, while the time she had spent around me was significantly a lot less than all the others, she was definitely one of the most doting—even though that wasn't very obvious. She let me get away with a lot of things that the other mistresses normally wouldn't. She just wasn't comfortable with showing her vulnerability. On the other hand, my adoptive mother, Hellenia, was the strictest with me.

"True. The last thing you should expect from me is kindness," Lamia replied. "But if you dare to try and go against my Oblivion, you will come seeking that very kindness."

"Ah, I wouldn't dare," he told her. "Even if I try to break the wall, I won't be able to chip away even a piece of it! Passing off as a wretched brothel, your women wields the most power in this city. Whoever you side with in the struggle will definitely win! Where will I take the guts to go against you, fair lady? I just wonder, however, what the ninth prince will think of this betrayal?"

"He can think what he wants. And I am not betraying anyone for there was no loyalty from the start."

What the hell did I do to cause trouble with a freaking prince?

Then again, my only best friend in this world could technically be considered a princess. However, being so far along the line of succession with a common birth mother, she was technically useless—she would probably never be able to taste a bit of that power. The title of 'princess' at this point was merely a decoration. I felt bad for Erenol.

And I felt bad for the mistresses. I was implicating them in the very matters they were trying to avoid. Where was my maturity at this point? With all these childish mistakes, wouldn't my memories of my past life be a waste?

I knew the power struggle in the Emperor's court was not something to take lightly. They assassinated whoever was unfortunate enough to get in their way. It seemed we were harboring a subject of their ire. Should I get rid of the guy? But how could I after helping him?

This was a mistake.

I wanted to eavesdrop, now look what happened. I ended up hearing not one but two conversations I wasn't supposed to hear. Just the one between Aunt Safia and our injured guest was heavy enough, but I just had to hear something that made my heart feel tons heavier.

Ignorance is bliss, they said. I never realized what a privilege it was.

But of all the people in this House, I was the one most in the dark. All my mistresses were hiding secrets I didn't know of—never bothered asking about. I endured their tests, heeded their words, and absorbed all the things they taught me. In the end, I didn't know why. I had inklings. Answers? They eluded me, as far as I know.

I waited for Mistress Lamia and that guy to disappear from my sight. I thought I saw her pause just now and I had crossed my fingers hoping she didn't notice me. Thankfully, they went back with no delay and I basically madly rushed to get back into the residence. If Aunt Safia saw me sneaking about like this, I was dead meat.

I fingered the knob. "Sh—shut up."

It was locked.

Curse the gods.

I made a mad dash for the window of my room. I never lock—or close—that thing because I usually aired it out. I heard Aunt Safia's steps echoing down the hall. Carrying my shoes, I tried to be as quiet as possible while going the fastest I could. I spotted the open windows to my room, hope igniting inside me. Good thing I had my room in the ground floor.

Shucks. This felt like one of those moments in my previous life when the lasagna in the microwave was inching to its last second and I still hadn't readied my cup of coffee.

With bated breath, I struggled up the wall and pulled myself through just before Aunt Safia rounded the corner to knock on my door. I had landed on my bed, leaves stuck in my hair. This was god-freaking obvious. If I don't cleanup myself, I was bound to be discovered.

Well, it wasn't like she could see it, but what the hell!

I rushed to my bathroom, closing the door behind me just as Aunt Safia entered.

Made it just in time. Damn was I sweating like a pig—which technically wasn't correct because pigs didn't sweat other than around their snout. It was one reason why they had trouble expelling toxins and why some religions didn't like eating them. They were dirty animals. In and out.

"Evyionne?" I heard her voice echo.

"I'm in here!" I casually replied. Why the heck was I thinking of pigs? God, it must be because I'm so nervous. I think of weird things when I'm nervous. Stop, stop it, Evyionne!

"How many times do I tell you not to leave your windows open?" I heard her say.

"Sorry!" I washed my face for a bit, making sure I got rid of all the evidence that I was just rolling around under the bushes listening to conversations I wasn't supposed to hear. I then made my way to my adjacent closet, discarding my clothes in the laundry and pulling on some nightclothes.

"You left the faucet running in the kitchen too. What is up with you today?"

"Sorry, I'm just not feeling well…" I emerged from the closet, all made up and fresh. Aunt Safia had already closed my bedroom windows. I padded my way to my bed, sinking on the mattress and pulling the pillows to my lap. "I saw some weird things last night. I can't get them out of my head."

"What kind of things?" she inquired.

Good, I got her distracted. I just have to make her believe I'm not myself.

"Scary things—they looked like shadows," I told her.

Besides, judging from the conversation she had with the injured person we just took in, she already pretty much had an idea about what it was I did and could do. My mistresses obviously knew more about this than they were letting on.

"When I touched them, I felt really cold…" I muttered. "It was a little scary. Aunt Safia, do you know what's happening? I'm just really confused." Which was technically true. Seemed I was good at misdirection and at bending the truth a little. It was a little scary how well I was playing the role of the sheep—but I technically really knew nothing. If I hadn't eavesdropped, I wouldn't know one crap. I was hoping Aunt Safia would at least tell me something directly.

"I'm thinking, Evyionne, that this has something to do with your gift," Safia said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "There is nothing to fear, child. Whatever you're going through, your mistresses and I will be here to help guide you. You do trust us, don't you?"

Now I felt guilty. It wasn't right to eavesdrop. Maybe they were just biding time to tell me.

"Yes," I replied.

"Good. Now, go to sleep," she told me, reaching forward to where I sat to caress my hair. Her fingers ended up poking my forehead first before they finally found where they were trying to go. "Would you like a story tonight?"

"Yes, please."

"Alright."