Every so often Link lightly kicked the bookshelf, just to have some kind of noise in the room other than the ka-chunk of the clock. They were laid out on their stomach, multiple papers covered in charcoal doodles scattered around them. A muffin and a little stack of blank pages had been left on their bedside table, with a note on top instructing Link to stay in their room until Halley came. The word 'someone' had been scratched out and replaced with her name. So they stayed, fingers growing blacker by the hour.

Once they'd gone through most of the stack, they rolled over onto their back and swung their feet in the air. There were odds and ends about the room, rocks or trinkets they had picked up while out on errands, a few books they didn't have the patience for, but little else to do. Pulling up their pant leg, they saw the bruise was already turning color. The sun pouring through their window had been warm enough that the floorboards felt cool against their back. They rubbed at their red and tender nose.

Last night had left them nauseous, sparing them the pain of hunger for much of the day, and what food had been left carried them through to the afternoon, but it could only last so long. They would have to leave.

Link sat up and looked at the door, running over the short distance to the kitchen in their mind. The former lord never seemed to be on the first floor during the day - the worst they could run into was Miss Halley. More than worth the risk for their wailing stomach.

Brass slid across itself, quiet but ringing clear in the empty hall. They poked their head out first, ears high and attentive. Nothing. Picking a path clear of creaky boards was already second-nature to them.

Miss Halley was in the kitchen, standing at the far end of the room.

One ear was pinned back, but the other was pointed intently at the door to the dining room. A curled finger was held to her lips, one arm supporting the other, almost looking like she was hugging herself. Link mirrored her look of distress as they crept into the room, confused and concerned at how much they must have messed up.
Halley scowled for half a second when she saw them, opening her mouth, seemingly ready to scold them for disobeying, but then a deep sorrow washed down her face, sweeping away any anger in an instant. She returned to her pensive stance until Link finished crossing the distance to her. She glanced at them, then to the counter to her left, and from it took a bottle of something clear. Link took it with both hands when she offered it. Her tone was soft enough to be alien, "Take this to the table for me, would you?"

Link nodded, but Halley stopped them when they went to move past her. "Take the main door."

They tilted their head.

"Just… trust me this one last time, okay?" she reached to touch their cheek but caught herself, instead offering her hand to take.

Shifting the bottle to one arm, they accepted. She gave their fingers a gentle squeeze.

Sometimes Link was unsure how the family members even got into the dining room. It seemed the main door was always closed, and only staff used the other. A man's muffled voice reached them despite the heavy oak and iron. Once it was cracked open, a thunk and a sharp intake. They edged inside.

Lord Sunderland was snarling at Harnel. He had snatched the carving knife from the roast bird and now it was buried, quivering, in the table next to Harnel's intact wrist. A shiver crept up Link's spine as they realized, the scar left in the wood would not be the first of its kind.

In a threatening hiss like a pot just starting to boil over, he said, "It would seem you need a reminder, dear cousin, of what happened last time."

Link shuffled back a step, their stomach full with the roiling black feeling that they were seeing something they weren't supposed to.

Regiold's head whipped around. The pure animal rage pulling at his lip faltered when he laid eyes on them, small and unsure in the crack of the door. "The - yes, good."

He had crossed the room before they could even think to move, taking the bottle. His hands moved with their usual calm grace, clashing wildly with the furious tension still engraved in his shoulders and in his expression.

"That will be all." He took them by the shoulder and briskly turned them out.

The door snapped shut with enough force to ruffle their clothes.

Rather than stand in the constricting fog of their own thoughts, they fled, back to the kitchen, where at first they blanched to find it empty. A step further in revealed Halley had sat on the floor, slumped against a cabinet with her legs out in front of her. Link joined her silently, in a more reserved cross-legged position. Before they had even settled, she was moving things, awkwardly reaching to the counter above, and for it all she laid into their hands a plate with a handsome slice of lemon cake and a bottle of milk.

Without verbal assurance they hesitated, but only for so long; sans fork, they were happy to eat with their hands. The first thing she said was strange to them.

"Why did your parents ever send you here?" Even though she paused, Link got the sense that she didn't expect them to answer.

"I thought, putting out the offer was just for appearances, no one would take it." She threw up a hand, turning her head toward them but not her eyes.

The cake had that funny kind of icing that stuck to your fingers without feeling sticky, somehow. It crumbled off as they pulled the cork.

Her final, bitter mumble, "I suppose I underestimated the power of bribery."

Not a word was said about their crumbs or a little spill or hands wiped on their pants. Glass and ceramic touched wood.

The shouting of lords reached them again and Halley eyed the door with concern. She pushed herself off the floor, Link's eyes tracking her as she made her way to the other end. She didn't have to reach the door for Link to understand and rise themself.