Katie

“Those with the most honeyed words are often the most poisoned.”-Of Silver Words, chapter 5.

Katie sat on the edge of her roof, her legs dangling childishly back and forth. She stares at the rising sun, this beautiful, golden iris of fire. She never tires of seeing it rise, every day, with a big grin on her face she takes a closer look.

The sun blooms on the horizon, golden rays of light stretching outwards into the rich, lively, blue sky. The brilliant flower of the day, rising and setting with the promise of tomorrow.

She smiles at the mesmerizing view, enjoying the morning light until her tummy rudely interrupts her with a vicious growl. “Shhhh!”

Katie’s tummy didn’t like her answer and growls again. “Damnit! Fine! You don’t need to be all in my face about it…” She grumbles, waving her fingers at the scarlet apple. 

As she licks her lips, the apple shoots off with a breeze of wind, hitting her nose with a soft crunch. “Ouch!” 

To her dismay, the apple also bounces off her face, and off her roof. “Nae nae nae!!! Apple don’t fall! Wait!” 

Katie frantically waves her arms around, desperately trying to catch the apple in the air, but it still falls to the ground. “…piss…” 

She sighs, laying down on her roof. She casts her eyes to the side, and her pupils sparkle in a beautiful Amethyst light. 

A curtain of light shimmers, and forms to reveal the image of Katie and her mother, singing and humming to her while softly stroking her hair. 

“I miss you, mummy...” Her reverie is broken by a shrill voice shouting in her ears, and the sounds of a cane hitting a pipe. 

“Katelyn?” Pietro calls, his heavy footfalls echoing off the stairs.

“Coming…” Katie sighs and snaps her fingers, making the illusion of her mother shatter like broken glass. 

Katie glances over her shoulder, and gives the man a somber, but polite smile. “Hello, Mr. Pietro.” 

“Hello to you too, Katelyn. It seems you pronounced my name correctly this time, I’m glad.” His words carry a calm, lordly weight as if he knew or at least felt like the whole world lies at his feet.

Katie lightly puffs her cheeks. “It’s not my fault your name sounds like pee-to.” 

He calmly walks over and rests his hand on her slim shoulder. “So it isn’t. Shall we?” 

Sadness clouds her face, and she hangs her head. “Okay.” 

“Very good, dear girl. I trust you’ve rested properly?” 

“I’ve tried.”

“Excellent.” The man murmurs. “You know, it may not feel like it, but things will look better for you, someday. Faeborn are unique, their magic may not be as flashy as a Flameborn or carry the same force as a Titanborn. But their magic holds a majesty only the Fae possess, and they live for centuries. 

Katie gulps and stiffens with anxiety. “I...I hope not. I don’t wanna...miss my mummy that long.”

Pietro offers a sympathetic smile and pats her head. “Maybe you won’t have to. The fates have an interesting sense of humor, the gods aren’t heartless either.” 

He bends over, “Don’t tell anyone I said this. The empire doesn’t take kindly to worshiping the old gods, or any gods these days I suppose.” His tone is wistful and melancholic as he remembers better days of a distant past. 

“In any case, why don’t we walk to work? I’ve many people you can help this week, but just a few today so you can...blow off some steam later.” 

Katie sighs and slowly rubs her arm, fighting back her guilt. “Thank you, but I’m nae sure If you can call it helping.”

“It is, child. I assure you.” 

Katie runs her hands through her hair, and grits her teeth. “Fine. If you say so I guess. I still think it’s wrong to exploit people like this.

Pietro’s mouth twists into a smile, and his eyes lit up.

“Ah, we’re here.” 

Katie’s eyes fell on the almost impossibly long line of people, waiting in a strict, orderly fashion in front of an imposing, dignified mansion, the manor screamed nobility, from its polished marble to its beautifully elegant wooden doors. 

“So many people…” She lets out a forlorn sigh. “Too many.” Her lips set in a thin line. “Too many…”

Pietro gazes at the crowd, and his smile grows ever so slightly. “Not enough.” He whispers. 

A flurry of rain stings at her face, and she scowls. 

“Here, my dear.” He hands her a tiny coral umbrella. 

Katie peers at the little umbrella, briefly enchanted by how it mystically makes the rain avoid it in the first place, making sure that no matter how hard the rain falls or how harsh the wind blows, the bearer never gets wet in the least.

Katie takes the umbrella, then shakes her head. “I dinnae want it. And I dinnae need it.”

She sprints over to an elderly man, quivering in the rain, and hands over her umbrella. “For you, sir. You can keep it.” The man’s worn eyes twinkle with joy, and he gives her the biggest smile he can. 

“Thank you, little lady.” Katie returns his smile with a toothy grin, and bows theatrically. “My pleasure.” 

She daintily spins on her heels, not minding the rainfall around her, before walking back to Pietro.

The fancy man frowns a glimmer of rage in his eyes. “Why is it that every gift I give to you, gets wasted on another?” 

She shrugs, a carefree smile on her lips. “Some people just need your gifts more than I do.”

“Even food,” Pietro asks, a hint of fury slipping into his voice. “When I was your age I was just a street rat. Scrounging and scavenging for scraps, living off the charity of others. I would’ve given anything for someone with my kind of generosity to care for me. Are you truly certain you still wish to part with the gifts I offer? Even food?”

“Aye.” 

He sighs and rubs his forehead. “Child, you are half-starving. You simply cannot continue this way. I have half a mind to force you.”

Katie purses her lips. “We’ll see about that. As long as I’m fit to work, jump and steal from prissy-prim-pricks I want to share everything I’ve got.”

The Lord gives her a somber smile and slowly walks on. “Come child, there is work to be done.”

She waves the old man goodbye and follows her boss into the manor.

The tall, majestic wooden doors push themselves open, and Pietro looks over his shoulder at the line of people. “We will be accepting the first customer in five minutes. As always, pay upfront.”

And with that, he ducks inside the depths of the mansion. 

“My lord,” came a warm, calm masculine voice. “your coat?” 

“Ah, Lando. Have the clocks been repaired yet?” Pietro’s voice is as sharp as a knife, his eyes darting to Katie. 

“Not as of yet, lord. I regret to inform you that nearly every clock in the mansion is now broken.”

Pietro sets his jaw, his eyes still locked on the girl. “Troubling news. Keep her in the living room then. You are certain you have removed the timepieces there?” 

The butler curtly nods. 

“Good work.” 

Slow metallic footfalls echo through the hall. “Ironguard.”

The machine buzzes in acknowledgment. “Unit 1203-C awaiting instructions.”  

“Patrol for trespassers. I must know who is intent on exposing me.” 

The artificial creature nods and clashes its blades together. “Order accepted.” 

The Lord shakes his head and treads to Katie, who is dangling her feet off a dark wooden table. 

“Won’t you sit in the chair when we receive our first customer?” 

She wrinkles her nose and folds her arms under her chest. “Thanks, but I’m good. Ashes! I feel like I’m getting stuffier just by looking at it.” 

Lord Pietro opens his mouth to protest, but he’s stopped in his tracks by another voice. “Your first customer, lord.” Lando walks in and sets an audiograph on the table.

“Duchess Lenora Of Caelum thanks for saving her tea party, and your generous donations. She’s formally invited you to the Stargazer ball.

The butler leaves with a fancy bow and formally struts away. 

A young man silently enters the room, and skittishly sits down on a simple wooden chair. 

“How much have you paid, young man?” He peers at the man’s clothing. “Not much I’m sure.” 

Katie glares at Pietro, but says nothing, despite how much she wants to yell at him. 

“20 silver rioga’s. Almost all I have.” 

The fancy man shrugs. “20 seconds. No more. I trust you’ve brought a picture? And remember, only touch her with consent. This isn’t a brothel or anything of the sort. Step out of line and you’ll never come back here again.” 

Katie hops off the table and flashes the young man a warm, kind smile. “What’s your name, friend?”

“Alesso, my lady.” 

Katie chuckles to herself. “I’m nae lady. Just a girl.” she softly takes his hands. “Can you tell me a little about the person you, um...lost?” 

Alesso’s eyes glisten with tears, and he sniffs. “She’s my little sister. I…bought this dress she always wanted for her birthday and then...the guard showed up, said I’d created a debt...they took her away. I know she’s alive but…that’s all I know. Emperor’s mercy It’s been years…I don’t have an audiograph of her voice. Gods I wish I did…”

Katie’s lips tremble, but she stays strong and keeps her smile, for his sake. “May I see her? Feel free to hug me after I’ve…you know. And remember to close your eyes.”

With quivering fingers he slips a picture of a young girl out of his pocket, he stares at it for a long while, then finally holds it up and shuts his eyes.

She glances at it for just a few seconds before tracing her hands over her face, and through her hair, then gently taps his shoulder.

Alesso’s lips part, and he almost tackles her into a hug. “Alyssa…” he sobs, tears freely falling down his face. “I-I’m so sorry…” he stammers, his voice barely a whisper. 

“That's enough, your time has ended.” Pietro barks, then claps his hands cheerily, coins clinking in his coat. “Stay longer and I’ll charge you extra. And send in the next one on your way out!” 

The young man tightens his embrace and squeezes his eyes shut. “I’ll find you, sis. I’ll bring you back. You’re everything to me, Lizzie, I can’t let you stay with them. I can’t…”

A lonely tear streaks down Katie’s cheek as she rubs his back and nods, burying her anger at time, and Pietro’s malicious limitations. 

“Very well. 15 more silvers. Now get out.”

“Pietro!” Katie growls. “Dinnae be a cunt.” 

“Time is money, Katelyn.” 

Alesso hastily walks out of the room, but not before changing one last glance at his sister, then he departs, a renewed, hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“NEXT!” Pietro shouts, sitting down in an extravagant chair, grinning from ear to ear. 

                                                             ****

Katie collapses on the ground, panting breathlessly. “Ashes…” she traces her nails down the pristine wooden floor, and spits a droplet of blood, before quickly wiping it away.

“Tired?” Pietro asks concern shadowing his face. “You’ve helped a lot of people today, I understand if you’re exhausted.”

She grinds her teeth. “Yea. I’m close to a betrayal.” Katie eyes the floor, her vision shifting between blurry and focused like the changing tides. 

“Very well, Lando! Inform the customers that we are finished, and have a dinner prepared.” He gently strokes her head. “Why don’t you rest for a while?”

Katie’s mouth twitches in disapproval, but still, she nods. “Fine…” She rubs her eyes and rests her head against a tall bookshelf.

Pietro kneels beside her. “Please, sit in the chair. I’m sure it’s more comfortable then the floor.” 

“NAE!” Katie snaps, baring her teeth. “Never!” She slams her eyes shut.

He delicately takes her chin and makes her look into his muddy-brown eyes.

“Is it the ‘fancy chair’ you’re angry at? Or something else entirely?”

Her glare could’ve toasted bread from miles away. “Piss off.” Katie jerks herself free and turns her back at him.

“Very well,” Pietro says with a short sigh, “In your own time.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. “In-my-own-never!” She blinks, then holds her thumb against her lips, lightly biting on it. “Forget I said that.” Katie mumbles with rosy cheeks then turns away from the fancy man.

The man just carelessly shrugs and casually strides off, no longer seeming to give a damn about her words.

Katie hugs herself and brings her knees to her chest. Within a few short moments, she feels her eyelids grow heavier and heavier until at last, she’s peacefully snoozing.

                                                               ****

“RUN! Get out of here!” A woman’s voice echoes in her head, and Katie startles awake with a sharp gasp. Panic flares in her eyes and she frantically looks around the room, her body tensed to run or fight.

A sense of dread claws at her throat, but the silence steadily soothes her nerves. 

After what felt like hours, she exhales a powerful but serene breath. “Must’ve still been asleep.”

“Lady Katelyn?” A girl’s voice hollered. 

She frowns at the sound of her fancy name. “In here!” 

A young girl wearing a plain maid’s uniform stumbles inside. “Ah, there you are! Lord Pietro has instructed me to fetch you. Dinner is ready.”

Katie rubs her neck and stretches like a cat. “I see, thanks, Eliza.” 

Her ears perk up at a quiet, mechanical ticking sound. “What’s that?”

Eliza tilts her head. “I don’t know what you mean my lady?”

“It sounds like...I thought the clocks here are broken?”

The maid stares at her blankly. “They are, my lady.”

Katie furrows her brows. “Maybe I’m just imagining things.” Her features soften, and she strolls into the dining room with a small yawn. “Probably am.”

“Ah...welcome, welcome! Please, sit, my dear. I’ve arranged for a...special chair.”

She peers at the simple, plain wooden chair and smiles like it’s the prettiest thing in the room, while most would feel very differently.

Katie giggles and rushes over to the chair. “It’s pretty!”

Pietro awkwardly sips his wine, trying not to let his confusion show. “Uh, yes.”

She joyfully sits down and swings her legs around on the chair, looking out into the dining table.

Katie takes in the dozens of enthralling, salivating smells, she looks in awe at the various cooked meats and freshly made vegetable meals. But what really catches her eyes are the pastries and roasted loaves of bread, layered with exotic fruits and spices from far away lands.

“There is also seafood if you wish.” He points to the other side of the table, decorated with pots and plates filled with clams, oysters, and various cooked shellfish, delectably steaming as if just out of the kitchens. 

“Hmmm...I dinnae ken...But I definitely can’t choose if I’m nae awake yet, anyway.” Katie grabs a glass of pristine, clear water. And promptly throws it in her face. “Ah, better! Now, about those fruits…”

The fancy man and the serving maids all tilt their heads in an almost eerie harmony. 

“What?” Katie asks, drinking the water still left in the glass. “It woke me up!”

One of the butlers approaches her, intent to dry her face with his towel. 

She shoots him a glare hot enough to melt ice. “Keep your fancy towel away from my fucking fa-“ The butler rudely interrupts her by harshly, but effectively brushing the towel over her face. “You’re welcome, my lady.” The butler says with a prudish accent.

“Pfft! You’re welcome, my arse!” She huffs, fixing her hair. 

“Anyway.” Pietro clears his throat. “There are some things we ought to discuss. ...Before you dine.”

Katie’s eyes dart between the piece of sugary-sweet fruit in her hands, just a few centimeters from her open mouth, and Pietro’s almost hypnotic eyes, which seemingly had no effect on her.

“What?” 

“Put down the food, now.”

She scowls and begrudgingly obeys. “I dinnae ken what could be more important than food right now but I’ll bite.” Her lips curve into an impish grin. “Get it?”

Katie crosses her arms with a mock-frown. “Come on! That was funny!”

The Lord smiles, though not at her joke, and rises with graceful composure only belonging to the most dignified of nobility. With long strides, he makes his way towards her. 

“Do you trust me, Katelyn?” 

Her joy vanished like melting snow, and her face hardens. “Dinnae ken, yet.”

“Hmm.” Pietro strokes his beard, and a wolffish grin crosses his face. “What if I told you…” His sentence fades into silence as he passes her chair.

“…I was someone like you?” Katie’s voice whispers in her ears. 

Katie’s eyes shoot open and she stumbles off her chair, Spring green eyes meet Spring green eyes. 

“What the bloody hell!!!” She screams, her posture low, as if ready to fight.

“I am a Faeborn. Just like you, Katelyn.” He spoke with her voice, but lacked her Cirrian accent, instead, his words still carried the smooth, melodious Lisari accent he’d had for most of his long life. 

“F-fuck off!!!” Anxiety creeps into her heart, and a wind begins sweeping through the dining room. 

“Ah, I see my appearance unnerves you. Well...that certainly wasn’t my intention. My apologies. Of course, I am old and…not as spry as I used to be. That is why I need you, Katelyn.” 

The gale grew in force alongside her anger. “Stop making me sound so fucking old and stiff a mhic-na-galla!”

The false Katie frowns. “Now, now. My mother was a very nice lady and I don’t appreciate you calling her a bitch, if indirectly.”

She blinks, and her mouth hangs open. “You…understand me?”

Pietro throws his head back and laughs, a rough, throaty sound. It was almost hideously out of place with her voice. “Oh, naturally. When you live as long as I, you learn to speak all the tongues in the world. Cirrian, Lyrian, ancient Lisari, Shadowspeak, even the tongues of devils and angels, and many more. There are none I do not speak or understand.”

His disguised face contorts into a devilish grin, then he snaps his fingers and the illusion covering him breaks like shattered glass, revealing his own self, as far as Katie knew. 

“I can teach you some Faeborn arts even the mainlanders have forgotten, arts taught to me by Runaria and Aoifé of Tir na nog. I’ve even had a handful of lessons from Oberon and dined with the queen of the Fae herself. And survived. That part, in particular, is important, believe me, child. But I digress.” 

He steps forward into a shadowy part of the room, and holds out his hand. “Do you trust me? Would you live in this mansion and train, grow by my side?”

Katie’s eyes bore into his as if hoping to divine some kinda plan, or a knife aimed at her back, poised to strike. She glances at his open hand, and takes it with a lopsided grin. “Nah, I’m good for now.”

She scrutinizes his face and nearly misses the quickest flash of rage in his mesmerizing eyes. 

“Very well, very well…” The lord sighs, but isn't seemingly bothered by her rejection. “If you must be that way…” He sits back down on his luxurious chair, a cocky grin forming on his face. “Then I suppose I don’t blame you. Go ahead, eat. Eat...and drink all you desire.”

Katie peers at his arrogant, snobbish face. She glances at the glass of orange cider in front of her, then calmly gulps it down. 

Lord Pietro’s gaze intensifies, as if listening to the climax of a song.

She swallows. Then gives him a subtle, knowing wink. And offers him a carefree smile. 

The lord chuckles darkly and drains his own glass. “You should’ve taken my offer, Katelyn. But if you just keep turning me down then well, I’ll just have to find another then, won’t I?”

Katie’s eyes instantly flutter shut, and her face falls into a mix of pastries and fruits, her gentle, high snoring like music to Pietro’s ears.

“I will be in my room, resting. Have some more guards come down here in case she wakes. And do call for the imperial guard, tell them I have a very special heretic in custody for them.”