Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 112
"I... I just know."
She grimaced. "I don't think so. At least, we've seen no
evidence that he's aware that his connection with you is still
open. As I told you, we've taken steps to disable it so he can
no longer see through your eyes. But we'll determine all of that
soon. This is our headquarters now, Jordan. We are also
guests here, and I expect you to behave accordingly."
"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.
She patted the bed next to her. He sat on the linen; it was
softer than any bed he'd known, except maybe the one in the
manse. Lady May leaned over and massaged his shoulders
delicately. "I'm going to go talk to Axel. When the tailor
comes, I want you to ask him to dress you. Not in servants'
clothing--you are no one's servant now, you are the equal of
anyone in this building. So waistcoat, evening dress, the lot.
Do you understand?" He nodded. "And do not wander too far,
but please do not enter any of the servants' areas--when you
walk, you will walk in the main halls like the owners. I think
this might be hard for you, but it is necessary."
He frowned. He hadn't thought about it, but it definitely
would be hard. Never in his life had Jordan walked the halls of
a manor as if it were his home. He was used to ducking from
stairwell to stairwell, never straying beyond areas where he
could justify his presence. She was right: his instinct would be
to find the back halls, eat in the kitchens and leave the building
when night came. He shook his head. "I'll try."
"Good." She rolled off the bed. "I'm off to tackle Axel.
Wish me luck."
He watched her go, and bolted the door when she'd left.
Then he went to examine the mortaring around the window,
and tried to gauge its strength.