After Isadora's departure. The maid who had been waiting respectfully by the doorway stepped forward with a gentle curtsy.
"If you would follow me, young master Harold," she said. "The Viscount has prepared quarters for you on the second floor."
Creon was surely pampering me beyond anything I could have expected. The deference he'd shown toward Isadora earlier still puzzled me—there had been something almost reverent in his manner, as if he owed her a debt that went far deeper than simple gratitude. What history lay between them? What had transpired to create such unwavering loyalty? The questions gnawed at me, but I pushed them aside for now. Whatever their past, I was grateful for the present circumstances.
From what little I'd observed, Creon seemed to be a man of genuine character, and his daughter Alicia was good as well. At least my life outside the academy walls would be comfortable—perhaps even pleasant.
