VINCENT

The room I had been given adjoined Monty's, and he insisted my door stay locked and that I was forbidden to go near it. Worse still, the door between us would remain open. He claimed it was for safety, but I knew better than to believe such a blatant lie.

It would seem I would not be given any privacy anytime soon. At least there were corners out of sight from the doorway where I could potentially have a little sulk. If only the brute would go to his own room.

"Don't know why anyone would wanna live in one of these places," he said as he walked along the perimeter of the small room. "Damned depressing, it is."

I gave no response. I hoped he would grow bored and lose interest in pestering me.

"At least we got windows. Can't imagine being forced to sleep in one of them office rooms. Tristan said it was a possibility if they were full up for the night. Good thing he was wrong," he said, slapping my shoulder much harder than was needed.

I stumbled forward a step but refused to show the glare that simmered below the surface. Must he always be touching me?

Why did he insist on being here? I looked around the room for a distraction and found a bookshelf. I recognized a few titles. It would seem that at least one Keeper had similar tastes to myself. If I were permitted to have a light through the night, then I would have something to read. Something that would remind me that real life was not like my books. 

"What's wrong? Oh, you got the shit bookshelf," Monty said with a laugh. He slapped my shoulder again. "Every once in a while, Tristan actually reads the books I grab him. He threw this one at me."

He picked out a particularly lurid title. It was about a young maid whose employer had been killed by bandits. She ended up being seduced by the bandit leader. Although, "seduced" was a rather gentle term for what had happened, and the locations of said seduction were questionable at best. It was well-written, but, as an introduction into the genre, I wouldn't have suggested it.

"Here, you should give it a go," he said with a grin.

I took the book from him, and casually flipped through the pages. "I suppose this shall be more interesting than staring at the wall," I said. I couldn't let him see any interest for fear he might take it and the other books away.

I looked back at him. He crossed his arms and wore an irritated frown. "Yeah. Tell me all about it when you're done."

I couldn't tell what sort of answer he'd been looking for. At this rate, I would never earn my freedom from the dampeners. At least I got to keep the book.

"C'mon, let's go grab our luggage," he said with a grin.

I should have known that "our luggage" would translate to every last scrap Monty could find in the carriage. He had even managed to find and mercilessly crush the cricket. I felt sorry for the creature, but soon found myself wishing for a similar fate with the constant back and forth with the luggage.

On the third trip to our rooms, we passed by Tristan. He didn't look particularly pleased to see me.

"There's a washroom down the hall from your room," he said, looking between Monty and me with a sneer.

Monty dropped the large trunk he was carrying, and it echoed loudly through the stone hall. "Don't you dare start. If you ain't gonna bother to bring your luggage up yourself, you don't get to complain about how others smell."

"And where, exactly, is he gonna get spare clothes?" Tristan asked. He pointed at the small traveling trunk I carried. "From Olwen's trunk?"

"We're providing a courtesy."

Tristan looked about ready to argue before sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Do your thing, but clean off before you go help Olwen."

Monty glanced at me in confusion. "What's she need help with?"

There was a moment where Tristan wore his own confused frown before covering it up with frustration. "Maps. Towns. Things. She's in the library. I have other things to do." He looked down the hall then back to us. The irritation radiating off him seemed to lift. "There's a storeroom on the first floor near the entrance. Plenty of charity donations in there. Find a change of clothes and clean up."

I would soon be free from the scratchy sweater.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll find something that won't make him stand out," Monty promised, dooming my future to more uncomfortable clothing.

Tristan didn't appear to be reassured. "This is the Bellis Crypt," he said with a heavy note of warning. "Do not embarrass me."

Monty let out a disappointed sigh. "He'll be presentable."

Satisfied enough with the promise, Tristan continued on his way down the hall. I watched with longing as his sour demeanor vanished in favor of happily greeting a passing Keeper. Once more, Tristan was my Guardian. I had been saved from whatever fate Monty had planned for me.

A heavy hand fell on my shoulder and gave it a light shake.

"Let's get cleaned up before we're made to sleep in the stable," Monty said lowly.

It had to be a joke. I looked over to see the grim frown he'd taken on. "Shouldn't we deliver Olwen's luggage first?"

He shook his head. "She'll collect when she's ready."

It was a strange priority, but one I was grateful for. I had feared I would be forced to wash my clothes as I bathed and sit around my room naked until they had dried. It was a scenario from one of my books I would be glad to miss out on.

"We'll grab you something that fits, then hop on in the communal baths. They keep those nice and warm," Monty said with a grunt as he lifted his trunk and headed down the hall.

And it would be easy for him to keep an eye on me. For one brief moment, I thought I would have a few minutes of privacy. I should have known better.