The maids all stared at me in surprise as I held my throat in pain. I stared back, sharing their looks of astonishment, and tried to calm my breathing. I couldn't start crying now. 

"She spoke...?" One of the maids whispered.

"When was the last time -?"

"I didn't know she could -!" 

Then, another voice:

"Could you be any more pathetic?" 

Everyone gasped in surprise, including me - which caused me to hiccup, but thankfully also helped to force the tears back down again. All of the maids turned to the doorway, and then bowed their heads to the young man who stood there.

Oh. Him. 

The Duke's second son, Haydn Rune. I remember his introduction from the novel:

'Her second brother flashed an irreverent smile that suited his expressive, fox-like face. A mess of amber curls on his head, and a thin, slouched posture not much befitting the son of a Duke. He presented quite handsomely but for a small scar on the corner of his mouth.'

Haydn was the only one in the family who didn't inherit the blue hair. He looked like the old Duchess, who had died of a sickness a few years after he was born. That's what Haydn had told Lily, anyway, and he cited it as why his father never really loved him. 

So it made sense that he would never have taken kindly to Evra, who was only an illegitimate child and half-human to boot, yet still somehow had the blue hair of his noble family. But I knew there was a second reason he hated her. I remember it from that same conversation with Lily: 'No reason to stare, sister. This scar is a gift from that little monster. The first night she arrived, she attacked me with a table knife.' 

All of that I already knew, but thankfully my gracious brother had brought with him another piece of information that helped me out.

Haydn, who was just as emotionally volatile as Evra - but who didn't have the strength to be a soldier - was a student of magic. In the novel, he had already excelled through the first half of his second year at an arcane academy and was granted the title of a Second-Class mage earlier than his peers.

But, dangling from his ear was an emerald gemstone earring, not a sapphire, which meant that he hadn't yet finished his first year at school. 

So, I'm early. Lily's story hasn't started yet. But how early? 

Haydn leaned one shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed, with a casual look of amusement. The maids shuffled nervously. Were they worried about getting in trouble for how they'd been treating Evra until now? Probably, I imagined, not. 

"You waiting for something?" Haydn asked, making the group of maids jump. 

"But...Master Haydn, we're supposed to - "

"- Forget it," he interrupted, "if she wants to be filthy on the floor, let her. Beat it, unless you want her to mess your pretty faces up." 

Of course, they all rushed past him and back down the stairs. He looked down at me, his smirk fading to a mild grimace; "Well?" 

Get up, I ordered myself. You can't just sit here on the floor. Don't cry. Stand up. Stand up!

I did, slowly, with aching, trembling legs. There was a washcloth on the floor nearby. I picked it up as I stood. Now that the immediate rush of fear had gone, all that was left was a cold ball of anger in my gut. It made me feel brave. 

On my feet, I levelled a glare at Haydn. A silent moment passed. 

"Tch. What a bore. I came all the way up here to see you cause a scene, but now that I've arrived you're all tame?"

What's with this guy? Does he go to the zoo to kick animals in cages for fun? 

"That's a pretty annoying look you're giving me." He muttered, standing up straight, "Whatever. I'm leaving."

"I -!" I called, as he turned to go. It stopped him in his tracks. Slowly, I managed to croak out: "I don't...like...being touched..."

As I spoke, he turned back to stare at me, eyes wide in disbelief. 

"Hah! So it speaks!" Haydn said with a bark of a laugh, "They're your maids, what are they meant to do? If they don't come and wash you every morning, you'll stink up the house!" 

Every morning? With how gross my body felt, there was no way they were actually doing any washing.

To combat the pain in my throat, I grabbed one of the bowls of water left by the maids, and gulped it down. Haydn made a sound of disgust. But probably everything Evra did disgusted him. 

Maybe he expected me to throw it, because I saw the slightest flinch as I lowered it from my face. Instead, I just set it on my vanity, and held up the washcloth towards him. 

"Who?" I asked. My voice came out a little more easily, though the words themselves were clumsy; "Who told them to?" 

It was a dumb question, of course. I knew who it was.

"You're more stupid than I thought. They're maids. Cleaning dirty things is their job." He said, giving me a mean grin.

"Do I look clean to you?" 

Haydn opened his mouth quickly, then caught whatever he was about to say in a short breath; I watched his eyes flicker over my tangled hair, the dirt on my hands and feet, my stained nightgown that was now ripped at the hem. This wasn't the work of one morning's scuffle, and I knew he could see it. Or maybe my sudden and unexpected conversational skills had taken him aback.

Instead of answering, he scoffed: "So what will you do, wash yourself?" 

If I had been born and raised a cherished noble in a fantasy novel, maybe that idea would have been absurd. I raised an eyebrow and scowled, in the best look of obvious disdain that I could muster, that I hoped relayed how ridiculous I thought his question was.

"Of course? Who else is going to do it?"

Haydn seemed more shocked than I expected. Based on Evra's memories, they hadn't even seen each other face-to-face in months. So what did he care, anyway?

"But - then - what about dressing? You can't do this, Father will throw you out if you -" 

"- I'm not a dog -!" I yelled. Or at least, tried to. My voice broke hoarsely, it was more like a whine than a yell, so I followed it up quickly, "- Or an infant. I'll do it myself from now on. Tell father if any maid sets foot in my room again, I'll throw her out the window."

Of course, if I'd made that kind of threat in my previous life, people would have laughed. But from Evra, a threat like that has to be taken seriously. I hoped. 

Inwardly nervous, but outwardly cold, I stared Haydn down as he stood there for a long moment. I could see what I thought were conflicting emotions in his face. Anger, surprise, maybe a twinge of fear.

Not that I was surprised at his surprise, this was the most Evra had ever said to anyone in all the years she'd been in the manor 

Eventually, though, he landed on anger again and gritted his teeth. 

"Tell him yourself!" He snarled, then turned on his heel and stormed back down the stairs.