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"Like I said," Lady Flora Macon spoke in her firm, commanding voice, her arms folded neatly behind her back, "the chefs we have here are experts, and they'll be training you. You'll be just fine in their hands."
She didn't even glance at Haven as she turned to the next line of servants. "Next person!"
A soft voice followed. "I… I'm Ariel Hermanus."
Her tone was gentle, almost uncertain, but it carried through the hall.
Flora's sharp gaze swept over her from head to toe before she nodded slightly. "Hmmm… Ariel. You are chosen as a cleaner."
Ariel's eyes widened, her heart sinking instantly. It wasn't the job that bothered her — it was the realization that she was being separated from Haven.
Her one source of warmth, the boy who had stood by her side through fear and blood and fire, was now assigned elsewhere.
