The servant's passages through Lothian Manor felt like they didn't belong to the same world Valeri Leufroy normally lived in.
Valeri had walked the bright halls above for thirty years and never once wondered what lay behind them. The low, soot-stained corridors were like hidden veins of a great beast, filled with servants carrying supplies and food to their destinations or removing filth from all corners of the manor.
Now, Valeri stumbled through them on a stranger's arm, reeking of sour wine, and not one scullion or porter they passed spared him a second glance. He was nothing here. He was less than the laundry.
