you overlooked this responsibility.”
She had. She considered it now. The servants’ halls and passages, used for discreet attention to the various chambers in which the business of the manse was conducted, were present throughout the manse itself. They were—had been—present within The Terafin’s chambers, although only Carver knew the exact layout; access to those halls required a seniority that most of the servants would never achieve.
“The renovations, as you have noted, were extensive. They were also almost immediate. Please extend my apologies to the Household Staff.”
This was not, clearly, enough. It was, on the other hand, more than enough for Barston, who had never particularly cared for the Master of the Household Staff, although he made haste to grant her all due respect.
“The full extent of those alterations is not yet known.”
This august woman raised a gray brow. Only her brows retained any color at all. “Was the House Mage involved in this endeavor?”
It was not a question she had a right to ask. “I am not at liberty to say,” Jewel replied. “But I will make haste to offer instructions and a floor plan, where one exists, within the next week. Until then, it is entirely understood if the Household Staff cannot navigate my rooms at all. My domicis—”
“You are to meet with the Kings and The Ten on the morrow,” was the even chillier response. “Your domicis is not, I feel, up to the task of your personal care with regards to that meeting. If you will request Ellerson’s intervention at this time, I will excuse your personal attendants from their duties without prejudice for . . . the week.”
“Thank you. Please make an appointment with Barston for a week hence, where we will discuss the changes in the duties of my personal attendants.”
The Master of the Household Staff did not slam the doors on her way out. Jewel was surprised they didn’t shatter anyway.
Teller emerged from his office almost immediately, a sure sign that some of the magic in the interior office allowed him a glimpse of the contents of the exterior one. He signed, grimacing; Jewel shrugged in response.
“On the bright side, if the Kings do demand my execution, that’s one thing I’ll be spared.”
Barston coughed.
* * *
Ellerson was not Avandar. He didn’t even blink when he entered what had once been the library. He had Carver by his side, and Carver was carrying—with exaggerated care—the official wardrobe for the following morning.
“You could just stay in our Wing,” he pointed out.
“I would—but as I didn’t deliberately cause these changes, I don’t want to inadvertently change the West Wing.” She hesitated, and then less flippantly added, “I can’t be seen to be afraid of the changes that have been made.”
“Why not? Everyone else is.”
“How bad is it in the back halls?”
“You’ve managed to upend the absolute upper echelons of the Household Staff. There is no higher rank, among servants, than to be assigned to the personal detail of The Terafin herself. If you don’t consider disenfranchising the oldest and most elite members of your staff—”
She raised a hand in surrender.
“I am certain,” Ellerson said, “That she had larger worries to contend with.”
“So was I,” Jewel admitted. “I’m rethinking that, now.”
“You spoke with the Master of the Household Staff.”
“She spoke with me.”
Carver cringed—but he cringed carefully, under Ellerson’s watchful eye. Unlike Ellerson, he had no reason to treat the library as if it were still somehow just a library; he stared at everything, and whistled a couple of times.
“How bad are the back halls? Carver?”
“Sorry. Do you mean the servants or the halls themselves?”
“The physical halls.”
“If you’re speaking of the rest of the manse, they haven’t changed at all, as far as I could tell. It wasn’t as easy to cut through them though. The dragon was actually there.”
“Master Carver.”
“Sorry. She’s reduced a third of the staff to stammering wrecks, though.”
“That is not The Terafin’s concern,” was Ellerson’s stiff reply.
“Merry?” Jewel asked, ignoring Ellerson’s comment.
“Not one of them, but she’s not in the senior tier, and her duties could be accomplished with very little interruption.”
“Can you get into the back halls from here?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you asked me that question two days ago, I would have said no.” He glanced at the Chosen.
“You would have been lying.”
He grinned. “Well, yes. But today? I’m not even sure there are back halls anymore. No one is.”
“By no one—”
“No one. The Master of the Household Staff has relieved her most senior servants from their duties for a week.