"Yes, we are looking for a household servant," Damian stated. He didn't look at the suffering around them, playing the part of a man who saw humans as nothing more than inventory.
"Follow me," the man rasped. His gaze lingered uncomfortably on Eilika, his yellowed eyes raking over her until she met his stare with a sharp, visible frown. He gave a low, unsettling chuckle before turning away.
They followed him closely, their boots crunching over shards of glass and filth as they navigated a narrow, suffocating alley.
The stone walls seemed to lean in on them, damp with a foul-smelling moisture. At the end of the path stood a tall, decaying building of blackened brick, a structure that looked as though it were rotting from the inside out.
The man led them through door and down a dimly lit corridor. Finally, they were ushered into a small, private room furnished only with a wooden table and two chairs.
