Page 12 of Ashen Torment
I rise slowly in bed.
“Come in, Étienne.”
The door opens without a sound.
“Are you well this morning?”
He reaches the curtains, seizes them firmly, and draws them wide. The morning light slides across the wooden floor, illuminating every corner of the room.
“As I am every morning.”
“It is Sunday.”
My valet halts before me as I stretch, extending my arms toward the ceiling.
“Should that make a difference?”
He barely stifles a smile, his eyes fixed upon a corner of the room. “Every day is special, Viscount.”
I climb out of bed.
Étienne advances silently, every detail perfect as always. “Your correspondence has arrived.”
He hands me my clothes as we speak.
“Quelque chose d’intéressant?”
“I believe I recognized the seal of Count Nádasdy.”
“No doubt an invitation to some spiritualist session.”
“Spiritualist session?”
“Count Nádasdy is known for his unusual and curious interests.”
He knots my cravat with precision.
“I see, but Viscount... quelque chose d’effrayant like spirits? Does it not seem excessive to you?”
“I know of presences far more insidious than common spirits, Étienne,” I mutter, glancing toward the door.
As he pulls on my boot, I hear him whisper with amusement.
“If you had no intention of taking breakfast with the Viscountess, you need only have said so.”
I look at him, confounded. “Étienne?”
“Comparing your mother, the Viscountess, to a spirit... how cruel, my lord. Not at all fitting.”
“Étienne!” I am forced to suppress a smile.
“Forgive me, Viscount.”
I glance at the pocket watch between my fingers.
Quarter past eight. Just in time, as always.
“Come, Étienne," I say. “She does not tolerate lateness.”
