Page 40 of Exiled Heir

It was the same answer that Cade had given, more or less. But something about the way Jay said it, his glance at the unused third floor, told me that eleven years ago wasn’t long enough to make everyone forget this was the house the king had died in.

There must be something more to it than that, but I wasn’t sure what it was, and pressing might shut down Jay as an informant before he warmed to me.

“On this side of the house, there’s the dining room, the ballroom, and the council chambers.” Jay gestured down the hallway we had taken the night before. We began walking in the other direction, and Jay narrated the rooms as we passed. Receiving room, music room, informal dining room, library.

In each room, he gestured to a hidden door, explaining that that was the way in and out of the servants’ entrance.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” I asked when he pointed at one of the doors hidden in the corner of the room. “Are there that many servants?”

“No. I know that quite a few were let go after the king died. Now, it’s just down to a skeleton staff of eight. Some consorts have picked up some of the slack.”

“Wait,consortsare being used as servants?” It wasn’t quite the nightmare of consorts being slaves, but it wasn’t much better either.

“It’s mostly voluntary,” Jay said. He looked around and pulled me into an atrium at the end of the house. Walking to the wide windows, he lowered his voice. “It’s a way for people who have consorts to keep an ear on what’s going on inside the house.”

“You know how else they could keep an ear on that? They could move back in,” I pointed out.

“They can’t.” Jay’s voice fell to a whisper, his lips barely moving. “No onecan live here. Whatever happened when the king died, he left his magic behind. It poisoned the shadows. It gives people nightmares; it strains their magic.”

Frowning, I opened my mouth to ask more, but Jay pulled back.

“This is the atrium. Sunsets are beautiful here, and the glass lets you see the wards.” He pointed.

I followed the direction of his finger with my eyes and squinted. I had taken the distortion in the perfect blue of the sky as a fault of the glass, but now I realized that it was showing me the magic in the distance. When I squinted, I could see detailed green lines flowing over each other. They rose high and long, and when I looked straight up, I couldn’t see any gaps.

“The wards are a dome,” I said quietly.

Jay nodded. “I don’t know the details, but no one should be able to get in or out without explicit permission from House Bartlett.”

“Any member of House Bartlett?” I asked.

“No, just the prince or the seneschal. Most people go through the seneschal.” Jay stared at the wards for a moment longer, and then he smiled and turned. “It’s safe here. You can relax.”

I stared at him, every gear in my head spinning into motion.Safewasn’t exactly how I would frame it.

“I can relax,” I said slowly. “You feel safe here?”

“This way. I heard you saw the kitchens and the shower room, but I’ll show you the rest of the servants’ halls.” Jay walked quickly to a nearly invisible door and opened it by pressing in for a second. It clicked ajar, and he pulled it all the way open, gesturing for me to go in first.

I walked into the hallway, recognizing the industrial carpet and bland walls from my first night at House Bartlett. Jay pulled the door closed behind us with a handle and explained as he led the way down the hallway.

“There are servants’ halls that lead to almost every room on the ground floor. For the upstairs rooms, they have magical elevators that allow servants to pass up food or other needs without disturbing residents.”

“The magical dumbwaiter,” I said.

“Yes.” Jay nodded. “Down here, we have the kitchen, the laundry, the showers and resting room. There’s also a few other workrooms that are mostly unused.”

He led us past the kitchen, and I recognized the cook from my first night in the house at the stove. My stomach rumbled with hunger as we passed. Something smelled delicious, starchy and buttery.

“You didn’t have breakfast,” Jay said. He glanced at his phone, frowning at the time. “Of course not. Prince Bartlett doesn’t get up until ten most days, so that’s when they send up his breakfast.”

He reversed course, nudging me inside the kitchen toward the massive island in the center. “Siobhan, can we get some of whatever you’re cooking up?”

She smiled sweetly at him, but when her eyes caught me, she looked down. “Of course, consorts. Let me just get plates.”

Siobhan grabbed a couple from the cabinet and served up a richly layered biscuit with eggs and bacon. I had already eaten two pieces of the bacon by the time she returned with forks.

“Did you do the duck last night?” I asked. “It was amazing. I’ve never had anything that good.”