The ball was in full swing, and Avaline Stark was hiding. The eerily perfect cello music performed by the musicians in the far corner reached even her ears. She gripped the dark, thick curtain and pulled it, making sure she and the servants' entrance were still hidden.
Despite being the first night of Lord Nightingale's welcome home ball, the hall boasted a large number of attendants. Gowns with various layers and sparkling fabric moved across the floor. Wide smiles and painted lips greeted each other. Even the gentlemen were dressed from head to toe in suits with embroidery across their collars. Their shoes twinkled under the chandelier.
And yet, those with rosy cheeks rarely mingled with the other crowd. Pale complexions and sharp eyes, the bloodborne residents kept their distance from the warm-blooded ones. They held delicate glasses of dark liquid between slender fingers. Black lace wrapped around the women's necks, settling on their shoulders. To Avaline, all of their wardrobes were black, but she was sure the subtle shades were anything but.
A head full of colorful feathers bounced through the room. Lady Madeline moved from family to family, her two daughters following closely. They wore the brightest of gowns that caught the light with every step. It was as if gold had been scattered across the fabric.
If her mother were well, Avaline wondered if she, too, would try to sell her off to a prominent family.
Someone cleared their throat behind her.
Avaline swirled around, nearly bumping into another helper. The short girl pleaded with her large brown eyes. In her hands, she carried a tray of dark, rich liquid in sparkling glassware.
"I'll take it," Avaline said.
Between serving familiar faces and attending to the bloodborne, her choice was clear.
Avaline took the tray from the girl's hand. Keeping the tray higher than she should, Avaline scurried toward the blood-born guests. Blackburry only had a small population of their kind, with Lord Nightingale and his family being the newest additions.
The Nightingale family hadn't brought anyone with them when they decided to settle in town. It was why Avaline had accepted the job as a maid. Though she had only agreed to help with the ball, the pay wasn't bad. She doubted she could keep a full-time job hidden from her family.
Keeping her back toward the residents of Blackburry, Avaline moved around the blood-born. The full glasses were plucked from the tray so quickly that Avaline only noticed the lack of weight when the tray became easier to hold.
She made it to the other side of the room carrying empty glasses. Behind the dark curtain, she handed the tray to another waiting girl, Beth. This time, the black-haired girl with a beauty mark on her lip handed her a tray of assorted food.
"Can you handle this one too?" she asked.
"Give it here," Avaline said, " the other food table might need replenishing too. Can you take care of it?"
Beth smiled. "Oh yes!"
Avaline shook her head at the girl's excitement. Between serving humans and blood-born, she preferred blood-born. They weren't as talkative as their human counterparts nor as violent. From what Avaline had heard from the other maids around the manor, their previous employers weren't kind.
At the banquet table, Avaline placed trays of vibrant red cubes of gelatin on the dark tablecloth. She adjusted the other trays so the empty part of the tray would face the back.
"Excuse me," said a shrilled voice. "The braised lamb is out. This oversight can't be a coincidence."
Avaline's back stiffened. Lady Madeline's voice was unmistakable. As the parakeet of high society, if Lady Madeline so much as saw her, Avaline's life would be ruined. No one could know she moonlighted as a maid.
Trying to keep her voice low, Avaline turned with her head bowed. "Right away, m'lady."
"I'm not trying to make a scene," Lady Madeline continued, "but this doesn't paint a good image for Lord Nightingale. It's like half his guests have been forgotten."
Avaline's face burned. The silver tray bit into the palm of her hands as it lay across her lap. It wasn't like anyone had forgotten the other side. All night, most of the help had gone in and out of the kitchens replenishing food for the guests. This was the first time the blood-borns' table had somewhat been depleted.
"My apologies," Avaline said.
She turned her head, keeping her head bowed. Even now, Beth walked out of the kitchens with a large slab of grilled meat between her and a curly-haired helper.
A few of the residents turned toward them. Avaline quickly turned away. She swallowed thickly. If any of them caught a good look at her, she would be finished.
"What are you waiting for?" Lady Madeline snapped. "Do as you're told."
Avaline stumbled into a curtsey before speeding away. She rushed behind the curtain and into the servant's corridor, nearly taking a footman down.
"Pardon me," Avaline muttered.
Blood pounded in her ears as she turned a corner, then another. Weak light flickered across the walls as she rushed past the candles. Smoke curled in the air, making her eyes water. Avaline's only thoughts were to get away. Perhaps it was better to leave for the night. No. It was too early, what if she wasn't paid the whole amount?
Avaline stopped. She leaned against the stone wall, panting. Leaving early wasn't an option. If she stayed in the kitchens, no one would recognize her. With her reputation intact, Avaline could still show up in public.
With a sigh, Avaline wiped her brow. She looked down at the silver tray in her hand. If she didn't want to be accused of being a thief, she had to return.
Calmer now, Avaline turned and froze. Where was she? Mr. Timmins, the butler, had said not to stray too far from the kitchen corridors. They had all been marked by a white handkerchief at every archway.
She walked down the corridor and stopped at the intersection. No handkerchief hung on the wall. A cold sweat prickled along her back. It was just her luck to get lost. How was she going to get out?
Her breath hitched, and the air pressed against her skin. Avaline gasped. She couldn't get enough air.
Loud wails pierced her ears. Focusing on the sound, Avaline took a deep breath. The cries were coming from the left. She peeked around the corner. A single candle flickered in the distance.
Shaking, Avaline followed the noise. Her steps quickened until she broke into an awkward jog. The silver tray banged against her leg. If the candle was lit, someone must pass through the corridor.
Avaline stopped in front of the right wall. The crying swelled into loud guttural wails. She pressed her ear against the wooden frame. Feeling the walls with her fingertips, Avaline pushed.
Dust billowed around her. She stumbled forward as the wall opened. Coughing, Avaline fell into the room. Her hands hit the ground, and the silver tray swirled out of her grasp. Cold air wrapped around her shoulders. Her pulse thundered at the loud noise.
With a groan, Avaline stood, fanning the dust away from her face. Moonlight spilled into the room by a large window on the left side of the room. An empty desk sat in front of a window. An ornate rug spanned the middle of the room with a coffee table and two loveseats around it.
Someone moved in the corner.
Avaline swirled around. A small figure with large red eyes stared at her.
A small voice whispered, "Who-who are you?!"
"My name-" Avaline rasped. She cleared her throat. "Pardon me. My name is Ava. I'm helping with the ball." She gestured to the wall. "I got a bit lost, you see."
The small figure stepped forward. A ruffled, nightgown billowed around the girl. Dark hair spilled across her shoulders to her elbows. In her hands, she held a teddy bear, though it was missing a few limbs.
Avaline knelt. "Why are you alone, my lady? Where is your guard?"
No blood-born child would be left alone. Avaline looked around. Had she stumbled into something she shouldn't? A kidnapping gone wrong? Most importantly, who did she belong to?
The girl wailed.
Avaline winced. "Is there something I can help with, my lady?" She gestured toward the stuffed animal.
"Sir Arnie," the girl said with a hiccup. "He's hurt."
Lifting the toy, small feathers fell out from the opened seams.
Avaline smiled. "It's okay," she said, "I'm a doctor."
The girl shuffled closer, her eyes wide. "You are?"
Smiling, Avaline sat on her legs. "I'm an excellent toy doctor. I've tended to many wounded toys." She reached for the toy. "Now, what should I call you, my lady?"
A strong gust of wind spiraled through the room. With a yelp, Avaline turned away. Her body lifted from the ground. A scream lodged itself in her throat. She crashed into the desk. The wood bit into her side. Avaline collapsed against it, gasping.
"Speak! What is your business with my sister?"
A dark shadow fell over Avaline. Trembling, she met the blazing red eyes of an adult blood-born. Her mouth parted, but only a shaking breath came out. Even in his anger, the man was striking.
An emerald green vest with gold embroidery hugged his chest. Even his broad shoulders filled it out all too well. Long silvered hair cascaded across his shoulder. A family crest rested on his collar.
Avaline immediately bowed. "I meant no harm," she stammered out. "I heard crying and saw the little lady alone. I only tried to help."
Her fingers curled, nails biting into her palms. Only one blood-born could wear the Nightingale family crest: the head of the family himself. Avaline never imagined she would meet Lord Nightingale this way.
"Leave her alone!" the young lady cried.
Wide-eyed, Avaline stared as the girl ran at Lord Nightingale. In one fell swoop, he snatched her from the ground.
"Delilah," he said. "Why aren't you in your room? Where is Sir Myla?"
Delilah wailed again. Her words were a jumble of cries.
"If, if I may," Avaline began. "Sir...um, Sir Arnie was wounded and required help. I'm sure the lady didn't mean to sneak out."
The cold gaze returned. "Speak. Who are you? Why does a mere maid speak without permission?"
Avaline bowed. Her face burned. "I, Ava Stark, greet Lord Nightingale. May Luna's light shine ever upon you."
Lord Nightingale glanced at her. "You're a maid, yet you're not at your post."
She had nothing to say in her defense.
"Leave us," the lord commanded. "Your assistance is no longer welcome."
Anger and shame burned through Avaline's chest. She had only meant to help.
"No!" Delilah shouted. She wiggled against her brother's arms, but his grip never weakened. "No!"
"Delilah, enough." Lord Nightingale turned to Avaline. "I do not wish to see you in my house any longer."
Swallowing thickly, Avaline rushed out of the room. Her eyes prickled, but she blinked quickly. Maid or not, did he really have to be so cold? Not to mention his indifference to his sister's plight. Did he not know those toy companions meant more to the children than they should? She remembered quite vividly how the twins' wails hadn't ceased until she had repaired their toys.
Mr. Timmons met Avaline in the foyer. "Are you departing so soon?" he asked. His weathered face was filled with concern.
"The lord requested it," she replied. "I, I shouldn't have encountered the young lady so feely." She cleared her throat.
Mr. Timmons gestured toward the powder room. "Please make yourself comfortable before you leave."
Avaline bowed. "I will."
Once out of the maid's outfit and into a brown, wool skirt and white blouse, Avaline stepped out of the powder room. Mr. Timmons waited by the door, a coin purse in hand.
"Thank you for your help," he said.
With a smile, Avaline took her pay. "Good night."
As Avaline stepped out of the manor, warm air pressed against her skin. With a glare, she turned back toward the manor. If she had to see Lord Nightingale again, it would be too soon.