For the next few weeks, Clara became aware of something strange going on in the Scriptorium. She was allowed to come and go as she pleased so long as she was around to spend the evening meal with Friday. She wondered all over Top Shelf and was soon catching Inter-Domainial elevators to other parts of the House. Port Wednesday in particular became her favourite haunt because the stalls selling items from Earth and elsewhere had a comforting familiarity about them. But whenever she was in the Scriptorium Clara could help but get the feeling that she was being watched. She often spent the evenings sitting curled up on the window seat in Friday's sitting room reading whilst Friday herself rounded off her paper work.
The Mistress of the Middle House didn't seem to mind Clara's company, in fact she even seemed to enjoy her conversation, but this didn't stop her from dismissing her guest at odd times. Whenever Dusk or Noon came in she would bid Clara goodnight in a tone that clearly said 'go away now'. This puzzled Clara for a couple of weeks until she discovered what was going on completely by chance. She had her suspicions for a while, Noon always had messy hair for a start, and red stains on his shirt collars. She was walking past Friday's office on the way to the library when she caught the sounds of heavy breathing. Sure she'd misheard, she backed up and squinted through the crack in the door.
Through it she quite clearly saw Friday and Noon snogging, snogging like there was no tomorrow. Clara's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a splutter of amusement.
"Where's the human?" Noon asked breathlessly.
"Oh wondering around the terrace, she won't be disturbing us." Friday said dismissively. Guess again, Clara thought. Noon pulled away with a pained expression.
"Milady I really do have to get back, the Secretarial Knights —"
"Can surely survive your absence for ten minutes." Friday interrupted, pulling him back by the cravat.
Clara's eyebrows shot up as Noon's hands fumbled with his belt and she decided that this was good point to leave them to it. So, Friday was having howdy do's with the staff eh? Well it certainly explained the fishy behaviour. It didn't bother Clara in particular but it did cause her some embarrassment two weeks later. It was about midnight and Clara was about to lock herself away in her room with a good book she'd come across earlier in the day when she heard someone knock on the front door. With no one else in the hall to answer, she pulled the door open to find a short, armour clad figure standing there.
In the month she had been in the House, Clara had not once come across a Piper's Child despite her best efforts. Denizens were always complaining about them but she had never even seen one. So it was quite a surprise to be confronted with one now. The child's golden armour was so complete that she couldn't tell if they were a boy or a girl but judging by their height they could not have been older than thirteen or so.
"Hello." said Clara kindly. The kid saluted her and spoke in a crackly voice, as if through a bad speaker.
"Message Lady Friday Friday's Dawn."
"You mean, a message for her?" Clara corrected cautiously. The child (Clara still couldn't determine gender) held out an envelope towards her.
"Message Lady Friday Friday's Dawn. Urgent." they repeated. Clara took the letter and nodded.
"Ok, I'll make sure she gets it." she said smiling warmly as she did.
The child saluted again before flapping off towards the Upper Sky Lock. Clara watched this graceful flight a little wistfully before closing the door and looking around the hall. She doubted Friday would be in her office at this time but decided to check anyway. Of course she wasn't there so she wondered back into the hall, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Noon came walking down the stairs and threw her his usual look of dislike.
"Do you know where Friday is?" Clara asked somewhat coldly. The dislike was mutual. "Someone just arrived with an important message from Dawn."
"Her ladyship has retired to her chamber. But I believe she is still awake, she had some business to take care of first."
"Oh so she won't mind if I go and give this to her then?"
Noon smiled widely, something he had never done in front of Clara before.
"I'm sure she'd be delighted to see you." he said.
Foolishly, Clara disregarded his Cheshire Catness and hurried past him up the stairs, following his instructions to Friday's room. When she got there she knocked three times.
"Who is it?" Friday called.
"It's me." Clara answered, her voice slightly raised. "There's a message, apparently it's urgent."
There was a pause of about ten seconds before Friday replied.
"Alright, come on in Clara."
She opened the door and stepped briskly over the threshold, only to falter and look quickly away.
"Oh, god, sorry I didn't realise I was interrupting anything." she spluttered, her face boiling like an egg.
"Not at all sweetheart, we were done anyway weren't we Dusk?" said Friday cheerily, tying her robe closed and folding herself gracefully into a chair by the writing desk.
Dusk, who was lounging in the luxurious four poster bed and as far as Clara could tell not wearing a stitch of clothing beneath the red and black satin sheets, nodded.
"You're up late tonight Jenkins." he commented. Clara closed her eyes briefly in horror at the situation and babbled,
"W-wasn't tired. Uh, yeah, this just came for you."
She walked over to Friday and handed her the letter before stepping smartly back.
"It's from your Dawn, a Piper's Kid brought it. I don't know what it's about. I'll just, ah, go, now, sorry." Clara garbled but Friday put up a finger to silence her.
"Ah ah ah, stay there a moment." she said, reading the letter quickly. "Hm, looks like troubles brewing on the Flat. I suppose I ought to intervene this time. Clara darling, could you run and tell Noon where I'm going? I suspect I'll be gone until morning."
"Yeah, fine." Clara said, and she turned to escape as quickly as she possibly could.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"So then right, she's like, 'oh darling! Run along and tell that sneaking prat Noon where I'm going!'." Clara concluded, making her voice high and posh in imitation of Friday's.
Saturday's Dusk chuckled and adjusted the drip so that the blood flowed more freely. This was Clara's fifth visit to the Upper House and it had become a kind of weekly therapy session where she moaned about Friday. Dusk was a sympathetic listener.
"Are he you sure he was completely…?" he asked slowly, giving Clara a meaningful look.
"O naturel? Oh yes, hence my dying a little bit inside." she said firmly and Dusk shook his head smiling.
"Well let's just say you were lucky." he said grimly, tapping the side of the blood jar absently with his fingernail. "I remember a couple of millennia ago at a cocktail party Grim Tuesday was throwing, I walked in on him, Lady Friday and her Noon in a most unorthodox position."
"You're kidding!" Clara snorted.
"I'm surprised I didn't need counselling."
Clara laughed heartily at that and tried very hard to get the mental image of Friday engaged in a threesome out of her head. She stopped sniggering once she noticed Dusk gazing at her intently. She cleared her throat in embarrassment and averted her gaze.
"So, uh, that's my fun filled week. Anything interesting been going on up here?"
"Oh not in particular." Dusk shrugged. "A new range of automans exploded on level 636 yesterday, probably a glitch in the system."
"God, hope no one was hurt. What are automans anyway?"
"Just machines we use to build the Tower."
"Ah right."
Clara watched him unnecessarily take her pulse and check it against his pocket watch. His fingers were cool and smooth against her skin and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep a check on her thoughts.
"Can I ask what the Tower is for?" she asked, simply to distract herself. Dusk glanced up at her briefly and the sight of those velvety black eyes did little to help her distraction plan.
"You may." he said slowly. "It's hardly a great secret, though I think it unwise for you to discuss it in public. Lady Saturday commissioned the Tower not long after the breaking of the Will. She is trying to attack the Incomparable Gardens."
"Why?"
"Because she believes that she should rule them, not Lord Sunday. You see she is the eldest denizen in the House. She dislikes working under someone who is several thousand years her junior. Also…ah, actually I'd better not tell you that."
"What?!" Clara asked eagerly. She could tell he had said that just to make her curious and he tapped his nose irritatingly.
"Ah now I can't go spreading my mistress' secret now can I?" he asked coyly.
"Oh come on!" Clara snapped impatiently. "God men are annoying!"
"That tone won't convince me to tell you." he said and Clara scowled at him.
"Dusk!" she said warningly and he drew back a little in mock fear.
"That one will." he admitted. "Very well, but you must keep this very close to your chest, I'd be dead if she found out I told anyone."
Clara nodded and Dusk leant in until she could actually feel his breath on her face. It smelt minty and fresh and tickled the tip of her nose.
"Not very many people are aware," he began in a low murmur that Clara told herself sternly was not in the least bit alluring, "That the Architect liked to use the Days as playthings. They were her first denizens, her first experiments. She liked making them dance for her pleasure. Lord Sunday and my mistress were once…intimate. When the Architect found out, she ordered them to become engaged. She liked the idea of her son marrying her first creation."
"Bloody hell." Clara exclaimed. "I had no idea they were married!"
"Oh they weren't, only engaged. He kept putting the actual marriage off. It was very strange situation indeed. Everyone else thought they were both furious about the match, but I have my own suspicions. I believe they were both earnestly fond of one another, but Sunday was so proud and arrogant he couldn't bear the thought of being with my mistress simply because his mother had ordered him to be. So the Architect vanished, he broke off the engagement and threw my mistress out of the Gardens."
He drew back and turned to busy himself with the instruments on the table behind them. Clara blinked several times as she absorbed with news.
"Fuck." she said faintly. "What a prat."
"Yes I concur." said Dusk, still with his back to Clara. "I'll never forget the day I found Lady Saturday sitting on the Improbable Stair after he ejected her. Her expression haunts me to this day."
Clara gazed at him solemnly. She never thought she'd find herself feeling sorry for Saturday but it was no wonder she was so fucked up. Sunday had a lot to answer for.
"And, in ten thousand years, she never found anyone else?" Clara asked once the silence had stretched into an uncomfortably long time.
"A little hard to find someone else when you're still obsessed with your last lover." Dusk shrugged. "The Tower has the dual purpose of invading the Gardens and exacting revenge on their ruler."
"There's nothing worse than unreciprocated love." said Clara, an edge of bitterness to her voice. Dusk finally turned back to her. His expression was neutral.
"Oh Saturday doesn't love him." he corrected briskly. "She's just infatuated. Denizens cannot feel true love, in fact it's widely believed that it doesn't exist at all."
"What?" Clara laughed. "That's ridiculous! Of course it exists."
"As I said it's a rather contested point among those of us at the university who study mortals."
Clara shook her head in wonder and noticed Dusk looking at her again.
"Do you have any pressing appointments to hurry back to the Middle House for?" he asked suddenly.
"No." she said in surprise.
"In that case, would you like to have dinner with me?"