Chapter 8: The Door Wouldn't Help

Orivelle gave her brother a parcel before she gave him a guest list.

He lifted the lid.

Inside were the embroidered cuffs he'd abandoned at the ball.

"Your aunt left these with me," she said.

Caerovan put the lid back.

Ysmerelle arrived in time to see him looking for somewhere to leave the parcel.

He put it beneath a side table.

A servant picked it up and returned it to his hands.

He set it behind a vase.

Orivelle moved the vase because it blocked the view of the flowers.

The parcel emerged again.

Ysmerelle took it from him.

"A cupboard would work," she said.

He opened the nearest door and discovered the guests' spare wraps hanging inside.

He put the parcel on the upper shelf and shut it himself.

"Thank you for not making that a ceremony," Orivelle told him.

Her brother looked at the closed door before admitting he deserved the remark.

Ysmerelle was pleased he'd come early.

She was also pleased she could watch him work without becoming responsible for it.

He held the outer door while guests came in from the damp courtyard.

One woman had a large feather caught in the brim of her hat.

It bent against the frame.

Caerovan stepped farther back to give her room.

The feather followed his sleeve and sprang upright against his cheek.

He shut his mouth before it could enter.

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