The Rose Master by Valentina Cano Read Free Book Online

awkward affair. It was the four of us: Dora, Ms. Simple, Mr. Keery, and myself. We sat down at the kitchen table and began our meal with a prayer.
    I was shocked by the leisure of the entire thing—no one rushed to pour out the stew, and no one slurped it down in anticipation of being called back to work. I was the first one finished, since I was unable to halt the habit of mindless determination toward one goal: get nourished quickly. Ms. Simple watched as I spooned undercooked vegetables into my mouth while she sipped at her broth. She smiled.
    “No need to choke yourself. There’s no hurry.”
    I looked at my companions, at their bowls, which were all more than half-full, and then at my own, which was a spoonful away from empty. I felt myself blush.
    “I’m sorry. I’m so accustomed to having to hurry during mealtimes.”
    Ms. Simple nodded. “Yes, well, you won’t be disturbed here. Eat at your own pace. We all do.”
    I opened my mouth, then closed it, thinking of how to word my next question.
    “Ms. Simple, I’m sorry, but I did not see you set the dining room for Lord Grey’s dinner. I wanted to watch you so that I would know how he prefers it.”
    As Ms. Simple reached for a slice of bread, her gown’s collar pulled away from her throat and revealed a necklace of colors on her skin, deep purples and sickly yellows. Bruises. I frowned. They looked just like Dora’s.
    Ms. Simple’s voice yanked my eyes back to her face. “Lord Grey eats erratically, which means whenever it pleases him, if at all. He does not encourage our disturbing him for such trivial matters as meals.” She kept her eyes on the spoon in front of her.
    “So, he calls to you when he is ready to dine?”
    Ms. Simple shook her head. “No, we leave a covered plate on the dining table for him. He may come down whenever it’s best for him.”
    This was most unusual. The master of a manor, a Lord, tending to his own meals? I peered at Mr. Keery, but he was concentrating on the stew before him, his face enveloped in a spider web of steam.
    As soon as we were all done, I offered to help wash dishes in the hope of learning a bit more about our enigmatic employer.
    I plunged my hands into the layer of soap that floated on the water, and grasped the disintegrating sponge. I began washing the bowls. Dora was quiet beside me, but I could feel her eyes turning to me every few seconds, just waiting for me to speak. I took the bait.
    “What is Lord Grey like?” I asked. “He sounds so . . . different from regular Lords.”
    “Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ve only had him and his father as employers, so I don’t know if they are normal or not.”
    “How long has he been the master?”
    “Our current Lord Grey took over the manor a few years ago, I think about five, after his father drowned in the fountain. Have you seen it?”
    I shook my head.
    “It was horrible. His son found him, all bloated.” She shuddered.
    “That must have been terrible for him.” In truth, I was not too fond of water, so the thought of someone loosing life in that element struck deep.
    “I suppose. But if the young Lord was devastated, he did not show it. He’s always been a strange one, and when his father died . . . well. He’s an only child, so all the wealth was passed down to him, and we were all afraid he’d sell the estate and leave us out of work. He is not a man of many words, but that night, he called us into the parlor and reassured us no one would be dismissed. He’s not left the manor since.”
    “He’s not left in five years?” I gasped out.
    Dora scraped a bowl against a pair of knives and the sound stabbed through me. She shrugged. “He has no apparent need to leave. He spends most of his time in his private rooms.”
    “What does he do there all day?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. We are not allowed to enter, not even to tidy up. No one has seen his chamber in years.”
    “That’s ridiculous!”
    “Not really. He brings out his bed