Page 8 of Broken Prince

“I will give you a tour and reiterate a few rules which you should already have been made aware of. Remember them.”

“Okay, but I could always ask you again, no?” That man was as stuck up as they came but having a safety net, no matter how thin it was, was better than nothing.

“No, I’m not working here. I was just placed here as it seemed…difficult to find a new live-in housekeeper. I shall depart as soon as we are done.”

He seemed pleased with that and I could not blame him if the inside of the house, which was just depressing, reflected the people living in it. If I was not desperate, I would be leaving too. It looked too much like a horror movie to my liking, but desperation was a funny thing; it made you disregard a lot of things.

Jude needs you to get this $6k salary a month!

I sighed. “Okay, I'm ready to drink in your words.”

He threw me a side glance but kept on walking. “You are free to go in any room on the ground floor and the first floor. Rooms that you are not to access are locked. However—” He stopped walking and turned toward me. “You areneverto go to the second floor, underanycircumstances.” If I thought he looked stern before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now.

“Why? What is on the second floor?” I asked, throwing a curious look toward the dark wooden staircase covered with red carpet.

“Nothing of interest to you.” The dark warning in his voice made me shiver. “Let’s continue.” He gestured me forward.

We entered a kitchen, which despite being spacious, was smaller than I had anticipated for such a big house. It had a homey feel that was not reflected in the halls and a couple of rooms he had pointed out to me.

The kitchen was square with an island in the middle and a rectangular wooden kitchen table with six chairs.

It was a lovely kitchen—don’t get me wrong—with a gigantic American fridge, two ovens, a six-fire cooker, and more wooden cabinets that I couldn’t count right now, but I liked the feel of this kitchen. It was warm, with white and yellow splash-proof tiles with a sunflower pattern surrounding the whole left side. Huge windows looking out on a gigantic garden brought so much light to the room.

“It’s a lovely kitchen,” I commented, knowing that I would enjoy spending time in this room.

The older man nodded. “Indeed.” He pointed to the left at the door by the fridge. “You have the pantry, utility room, and door to the garden this way. Please look at what you need; food deliveries come on the same day as the cleaning crew—Tuesdays and Fridays.”

“So, we don’t have much contact with the outside.” It was genuinely weird to witness how reclusive this old man could be. “Is there any other live-in staff?”

“The security detail, yes. Not something I’m at liberty to discuss with you.”

I frowned. Security detail? “I’ve not seen anyone.”

He straightened up. “And that’s the way it should be. Another critical rule to respect: do not engage with the master unless he engages with you. Do not make your presence a nuisance, and do not interact with him or any of his security detail.”

“And who is themaster?” Saying this word was hard; it sounded as if I’d just stepped in some kind of Victorian show. “Does he need any particular attention? Medical or otherwise?”

The butler or whatever… Let’s call him ‘Stuck-up Jim’ eyed me critically. “This is again not something pertaining to your role. You are here to ensure the good functioning of the house. That the cleaning crew are doing their job, that the house is stocked in food, that should anyone come to the property, you deal with them and any request made to you through the HCS.”

Was I dumb or was he doing it on purpose? “HCS?”

He sighed. “Have youreadthe package given to you?”

I nodded. “Yes, but it was only yesterday and it—” It was my turn to sigh.Cut me some slack, man.

“Home communication system.” He pointed to the screen on the wall by the entrance. “Any requested tasks that are not prescribed in your typical day-to-day schedule will be available here. There is another one on the first floor. It works both ways. Should you need anything or if there is an emergency, you can contact the master who will reply if appropriate. Please only use the system if absolutely necessary. Do not make a nuisance of yourself; do not speak to the master or security detail unless directly spoken to,” he repeated.

Like in 1683?I nodded. Could it get weirder? “Is themaster”—yep, still weird to say. “Aware of my need for Thursday afternoons off?”

“Yes, this has been approved.” He gestured me out of the kitchen. “Please, let’s continue the tour. I will need to leave soon, it is a long drive back to the city.”

I followed him silently to a room that seemed to be part library, part dining room. “You are free to read any book you wish to read,” he said, probably noticing my eyes locked on the floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books. “But only when the door is unlocked and outside of dining times.” He glanced at his watch. “You will cook meals and serve dinner at eight p.m. sharp. Not seven thirty, not eight thirty. Once dinner is served”—he pointed to the red switch to his left— “you turn on this switch before exiting the room. It will inform the master that dinner is served and will turn on a light outside the door. You won’t be allowed back into the room until the light is off again.”

I nodded, wondering why the secrecy was so crucial.

“You will need to cook for four. The other portions are to be kept in the kitchen for the security detail, should they wish to partake.” He took another look at his watch. “Lunch has to be served at one p.m. sharp.”

“Let me guess, not twelve thirty, not one thirty.” I was not sure why I was trying humor on a man who was most likely dead inside.

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