The Last Sin

Mrs. Dulldrey closed the door and turned to me.

"Alright, get up those stairs. I'll get a bath drawn."

I looked down at my feet, shifting my weight to the least painful position to stand.

"What's the matter?"

I hunched my shoulders and folded into myself. The floor was spotless.

"M-My feet."

Mrs. Dulldrey’s eyes softened for a moment before hardening back to a neutral glare.

"Hmrph."

She ducked down and picked me up in a familiar bridal carry, wrinkling her nose as she caught a whiff of the dirt, sweat and blood on my clothes and skin. She marched up the ornate staircase, balancing me and the lantern in her hand.

At the top of the stairs, an older man with thinning brown hair waited for us. His face was set in a slight smile like he had woken up from a pleasant dream.

"Mr. Reeves."

"Ah, the mistress has returned, and who is this charming fellow?"

"Our Lady is becoming more eccentric by the day. Now she's bringing home stray elves."

"An elf! I've never seen one in the flesh. They’re so shy."

"Shy. That's one word for it. They should show their faces more often. Do they think they can just sit out a war?"

"War. What war?" I whispered.

Mrs. Dulldrey looked down at me, more disgusted than when she caught my scent.

"Mr. Reeves. I will take our guest to the first guest room on the East wing. Bring the tub and wake the twins. Oh, and-"

She whirled around, showing Mr. Reeves the blistered bottoms of my feet.

"Get some salve for this."

"Oh my!"

Mr. Reeves broke away down the hallway to begin his list of tasks.

"And bring some of your old clothes, too!"

"Yes. Yes. Don't raise your voice."

Mrs. Dulldrey shook her head.

"Daydreaming, old fool."

We walked in silence through the quiet corridors, her lantern rocking with each step. Portraits of an obese man were mounted on the walls, his beady eyes following me. I held on tighter to the large woman.

After a minute of walking, she set me down to open the door to the guest room. The room was as large as the first floor of my orphanage, and the bed was four times bigger than my cot. Red curtains draped over the room's massive windows, and a fireplace nestled in the corner. I walked into the room, ignoring the pain in my feet.

"This is a guest room?"

"One of the smaller ones."

The next hour was a flurry as Mr. Reeves dragged a wooden bathtub into the room. A blonde girl in a maid's uniform passed pails of hot water to Mrs. Dulldrey to fill the tub. She was fast, returning to the room a few minutes after each delivery.

Mrs. Dulldrey got to work scrubbing weeks of grime off my skin. She muttered complaints as she worked, talking about Lady Sin, the mansion staff, and her sons at war. Once my body was clean, she combed through the tight coils of my hair. That experience hurt more than my feet. As she finished, Mr. Reeves returned with the salve and an old set of clothes. The medicine and bandages made my feet tolerable to walk on, and the man's old white shirt fit like a robe.

As fast as the flurry of activity began, it ended with Mr. Reeves smiling at me as he closed the room’s door.

I stood alone in the strange room, my head spinning at my new reality.

Out of all the boys from the orphanage, I survived. Now, I was living the life Kirk, and I could only dream of. I was special. That’s why I survived. What else could it be?

I walked up to the dresser and smiled at the stranger in the mirror; he smiled back. I looked nothing like that street urchin from a few hours before. My orange-brown, curly hair rested on my head like a lion's mane. My orange eyes stared at coppery skin that glowed from Mrs. Dulldrey's scrubbing. And my ears...

I pulled my hair back to examine my ears. So, I was a half-elf? What did a full elf look like?

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

My body tensed. I fought my instinct to dive under the bed.

"Hello, Mr. Elf?"

It was a girl's voice.

"Y-Yes?"

"Are you decent?"

I turned back to the mirror.

Mr. Reeves old shirt went down to my knees.

"Yes."

The young maid opened the door. She was a little older than me but cute. Very cute.

"Mrs. Dulldrey said you might want breakfast. I can take you to the kitchen."

A meal without rat meat? That would take some getting used to.

"OK."

She walked into the room and leaned toward me, a sly look in her eye.

"Can I ask you for a favour?"

"Yeah... anything."

"Can I touch your ears?"

"OK."

She ran her fingers along the side of my left ear, pressing down on the pointed tip.

"So cool!" She whispered.

"W-What's your name?"

"Cynthia. What's yours?"

"Jacob."

She took my hand and pulled me outside the room, pointing to a mirror image of herself scrubbing the floor.

"That's Cindra. You can tell us apart 'cause she's always frowning."

Cindra looked up and scowled at her sister.

"Mrs. Dulldrey caught her stealing sweets from Gren again. Come on!"

Cynthia dragged me past Cindra toward the smell of vegetable stew.

Walking down a hallway and around two corners, we found the kitchen. A large, round man bent over a fireplace. In the middle of the room, Mrs. Dulldrey and Mr. Reeves sat at a weathered, rectangular table nursing their bowls of stew.

"I brought him, Mrs. Dulldrey!" Cynthia said as we entered the room.

"We can see that, dear. Jacob, take a seat."

Cynthia guided me to a chair. She sat down between me and Mrs. Dulldrey. Across the table, Mr. Reeves' lips bent a bit more upward, his attempt at a smile.

"So, this is our new ward! I hope he brought his appetite."

I turned my head to the large man looming over me. Sitting down, he looked like a giant. His large bald head shone from the heat of the fireplace, and his broom-shaped mustache was wet from sampling the stew.

"Gren, you're scaring the boy." Mrs. Dulldrey said.

Gren rubbed the nub of this left hand on the side of his head.

"What! I'm being nice. Right, boy?"

"I guess so."

"See! Now here, try this."

With his right hand, Gren placed a wooden bowl of stew before me and another to Cynthia. It was different from orphanage or street food. The stew was thick from rolled oats and barley. Carrots, turnips, and vegetables I had never seen before poked above the surface. The aroma of fresh garden herbs made my nose twitch.

I put a spoonful in my mouth, and my eyes went wide.

"Why does it taste so good?!"

Cynthia laughed.

"I know, right? Gren’s the best."

"It's all about adding the right amount of salt," Gren said.

"Salt? What's that?"

Gren looked at me, amused.

"Have you never tried salt?"

I shook my head.

His brown eyes twinkled.

"You and I will get along like peas in a pod, young Jacob."

"Spirits spare us. He'll bankrupt this household by month's end on exotic spices," Mrs. Dulldrey said.

"What's life without indulgence?" Gren asked.

"You indulgence enough as it is."

Gren laughed, rubbing his round belly with the nub of his left hand.

I squirmed in my seat. After a month on the run, happiness felt like a trap. A soft tongue to rest on while the jaws closed around you.

"What's wrong, Jacob?" Mr. Reeves asked.

"Um, nothing."

The man smiled deeper, lines creasing around his eyes as Gren's laughter died down.

"I don't know what your life has been like, especially as an elf.”

"Half-elf, according to Lady Sin," Mrs. Dulldrey said.

"Whatever happened before, you're safe now, Jacob. Safe with us."

Cynthia elbowed me in the side.

"He's right. Mr. Reeves took me and my sister in off the street after she tried to pickpocket him."

She smiled at me in a way that made you smile back.

"Oh, look at these two love birds!" Gren said.

Cynthia turned up her nose.

"It's not like that! It's just good to have someone here who's around my age. Someone, not my sister."

She stuck out her tongue like her stew turned sour.

"That reminds me, when you finish eating, fetch your sister. She needs to eat before doing the rest of her chores," Mrs. Dulldrey said.

"Yes, Mrs. Dulldrey," Cynthia said in a slow drone.

Safety. The word had been elusive all my life. Even in the orphanage, I was not safe from the older boys and caretakers who targeted me because of how I looked. Maybe Mr. Reeves was right. Maybe I could be safe here.

"What kind of person is Lady Sin?" I asked.

"The Mistress?!" Mr. Reeves said in a surprised tone. "Well, once you get past her quirks, she's quite kind and generous."

Cynthia shrugged.

"She's always been nice to me."

Gren laughed.

"She loves my cooking. What's to hate?"

"I have no complaints," Mrs. Dulldrey said.

Well, that was a lie.

"Why does she dress like—you know—like that?"

"I heard that she was in an accident," Cynthia said. "Her skin got burned bad."

Mrs. Dulldrey shook her head.

"She's sensitive to sunlight. That's why she only goes out at night."

"Both of you, please stop. We shouldn't talk about the Mistress behind her back," Mr. Reeves said.

"How about to her face?"

All heads turned to the kitchen door, where Lady Sin stood in the same graceful pose.

"Mistress!" Mr. Reeves said, his face reddening.

Lady Sin waved away his embarrassment, gliding around the room to his side of the table. She ran her index finger along its surface, lifting it to show us the clean fingertip of her black-gloved hand.

"Good job, Cynthia."

The young girl blushed.

"Thank you, Lady Sin!"

The veiled woman nodded.

"Mrs. Dulldrey. Mr. Reeves..."

"Lady Sin?"

"Mistress?"

"Excellent work with Jacob. He looks just like..."

She paused, finishing her comment a moment later.

"He looks like a young lord."

"Thank you, Lady Sin."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Gren?"

Gren hunched his shoulders, rubbing his left nub with his right hand.

"I'm sorry, Lady Sin. In all the excitement over young Jacob, I didn't have time to prepare your breakfast."

"Not to worry. Cynthia, be a dear and take my breakfast to my bedroom when it’s ready."

"Of course!"

"Excellent. Mrs. Dulldrey, I will be in the Red Room. Please have someone show Jacob the way when breakfast is over."

Lady Sin glided out of the room as quickly as she entered it. A cold silence blanketed the table, sending a chill up my spine.

"What's the Red Room?"

Mr. Reeves flashed a nervous smile. It was the first time I saw his teeth.

Cynthia leaned against me and whispered.

"When my sister and I came to the mansion. Mrs. Dulldrey told us we could go everywhere except the Red Room. She said if we even looked into that room, we would die."

"Don't exaggerate, Cynthia," Mrs. Dulldrey said, wiping the sweat beading her forehead.

"I'm sure Jacob will be fine," Mr. Reeves said, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Safety? Nowhere is safe.