Notable

Damien woke the next morning feeling a bit less like himself. He should have expected it, given how late he and Grace had stayed up, talking about Cain's disappearance and what to do about Crowe. The scent on the shirt also turned out to be a poor replacement for the presence of Cain himself, which was both worrying and extremely frustrating for Damien to discover. Since he'd spent at least a minute or two in the vampire's presence for the two days previous, he hadn't realized how hard it would hit him to have had no exposure the day before. The scent was comforting and familiar, but the part of Damien that yearned for its mate knew it only as a pale imitation of that which it truly desired.

This meant that it became immediately clear to Ellen that Damien was struggling, from the moment he dragged himself into the laundry.

"Bad day today?" Ellen asked, tossing him a look of concern.

Damien tried to shrug off the comment, feeling the weight of stares from the few thralls who had arrived before him. "I've had worse," he said.

"Take a half-day," Ellen told him, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Damien was too exhausted to resist anyway, so he nodded.

"Maybe spend a bit of time somewhere else," Ellen added, giving him a wink, "Like the kitchens."

Damien frowned in confusion, not sure why he would be interested in the kitchens.

Sensing that her subtlety was bordering on total obscurity, Ellen said, "Sometimes, in the early afternoon, thralls from the market will bring their purchases and other notable finds to the kitchen," she stared very pointedly at him.

Damien nodded slowly. "Okay," he agreed quietly.

"Other," Ellen pronounced very firmly, her eyes boring into him, "Notable. Finds."

Damien frowned a little, trying to parse her meaning. What sort of notable find would Grace bring back from the market that would interest Damien?

…Oh! Sudden realization struck him. Dezzy was probably in the market! Was she the notable find? He looked up at Ellen, excitement bubbling in his chest. He wasn't sure how to ask, so he just repeated, "Notable finds?"

A broad smile stretched across Ellen's face as she nodded once, firmly.

Damien felt immediately re-energized. He was going to see Dezzy again!

* * *

When the mid-day meal rolled around, Ellen pulled Damien aside and told him it would be a good time to visit the kitchen and see what notable finds awaited him.

Damien immediately agreed, and then frowned. "I don't actually know how to get to the kitchen," he confessed in a low voice.

Ellen's eyebrows jumped a little. "I'd recommend getting yourself a full tour, and soon," she said, her own voice low. "It's important to keep up appearances."

Damien nodded, feeling chastised. He hadn't thought about the fact that most thralls already knew their way around. Since Grace had claimed that he was a transfer from a different department, he was already walking on thin ice. He'd heard several thralls asking if anyone had seen him before, and the general consensus seemed to be that he'd been a favorite of Solveig's that had been cast aside when he became ill. It wasn't a perfect cover story, but since Damien planned on completely avoiding contact with the clan's top vampire, he doubted anyone would notice that Lord Solveig didn't actually recognize him.

"Follow the cleaning crew when they retrieve the midday meal," Ellen instructed. "You'll be able to follow them to the kitchens."

Damien nodded.

"While you wait for that," Ellen continued, "Eat a bit more."

Damien grimaced. "I'm not hungry," he protested.

"You've the body of a man but the appetite of a sparrow," Ellen grumbled under her breath.

Damien wasn't sure whether he should apologize for his listlessness or deny the accusation, but he didn't have the energy to do either, so instead he ignored her and sat down to wait for the midday meal to be picked up by the cleaning crew.

He didn't have long to wait, and nobody seemed particularly surprised when he pitched in and carried a basket of leftover bread rolls to the kitchen alongside the five other thralls.

One of them, a young man with a soft voice and wide eyes, held back to converse with Damien while they walked. "You're the new transfer, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Damien answered, trying not to sound winded by so simple a task as carrying bread, and mostly failing. "I got sick, so they didn't want me around the vampires."

"I'm sorry," the young man said, treating Damien to a crestfallen look. "It must be hard for you."

"I think if I weren't sick all the time I'd have more time to think about it," Damien said quietly. "But at this rate I'm so busy trying not to be a burden or waste away completely that I don't have the energy to feel anything about the rest of it." He tried to stay as vague as possible, knowing that he couldn't lie very well, so it was better to stick close to the truth. He didn't actually want to be near the vampires, but he was too tired and sick to feel as hateful and self-righteous as he probably would under more favorable conditions. As long as he wasn't too specific, he figured the thralls would interpret his words in a way that made the most sense to them. He didn't like his chances of lying with specifics, but generalities were easy to pretend at.

"You're so brave," the young man marveled. "I heard you even escaped from Crowe."

Damien frowned. "What?"

The boy blinked. "Did you not? I thought Mister Crowe wanted you and you got away."

Damien grimaced. "That was mostly Cain," he admitted, though it still grated on him that the vampire had expected gratitude for his dramatics. "He told Crowe that I was sick and to leave me alone."

"Oh, wow," the boy said, gazing up at Damien with stars in his eyes. "He said that? That must have been amazing, having someone like Sir Einhardt come to your defense."

Damien nodded slowly. "I certainly didn't expect it," he said slowly. It was nobody's business but his own that the unexpectedness stemmed from his own failure to understand the severity of the situation until Crowe had looked at him like a predator looks at its prey, calling him a morsel. He still felt shivers run down his spine at the memory.

"I'm not surprised," the young man said, almost imperiously. "Sir Einhardt is always kind, and takes good care of all of us thralls." He sighed then, a bit of a dreamy expression crossing his face as he added, "he looked out for me when I first started working in the public areas of the castle. Most vampires would have punished me for being clumsy and stupid, but he was so patient."

Damien was getting awfully tired of all the Cain-worship that seemed to be the default setting for almost every thrall he met. "Oh yeah?" he asked, out of politeness rather than genuine interest.

"He even let me help Grace and Jacen steal his clothes," the boy said, leaning over to whisper conspiratorially, "for a girl from the market."

Damien blinked twice before he could find something to say in response to that. "Wow," he said weakly, "He just let you take his clothes? That's unexpected."

"Isn't it just?" the kitchen thrall was practically beaming as he said this. "I've never been a part of something so exciting! The girl seemed really happy to have Cain's clothes, too. I'm not sure what she wanted them for, but if Cain said it's okay, then I'm sure it's okay."

"Right, anything Cain says, goes," Damien said, a bit sarcastically.

"You get it!" the boy said, clearly misinterpreting the sarcasm as a genuine response. He leaned a little closer. "I even heard the girl from the market might be coming back today. I wonder if we'll get to steal clothes again? But maybe we won't be able to this time - Cain's gone." He looked genuinely sad at the thought of Cain being gone. So sad, that Damien was even tempted to comfort him with some sort of platitude.

Instead, he just said, "Maybe she's not here for clothes this time."

"You make a good point," the boy said thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure she and Grace have been spending time together." He leaned in again, saying conspiratorially, "I think it's good for Grace - she's always been a bit more serious, especially after-" he caught himself there, a guilty look crossing his face. "But that's not my story to tell," he said.

Damien felt almost insatiable with the need to know what had happened to Grace, and why she was supposedly more serious after whatever the incident was. But he also recognized it wasn't a good time to pry. Besides, he could probably ask Grace about it later, when they were in private. It was always better to hear things from the source than from a third party, anyway. "That's all right," he said. "You're a good friend, to keep the secret."

"Thank you," the boy said, blushing a little at the compliment. "You seem like you'd be a good friend, too." He coughed a little awkwardly. "Sorry if we've met before, I'm rather new here and I forget names easily."

"Ah, I'm pretty bad with names myself," Damien said quickly, jumping at the chance to excuse one of the more glaring inconsistencies in his sickly thrall cover story.

"Well then, let's just re-introduce ourselves as many times as we need!" the young man said, grinning broadly. "I'm Liam."

"Liam," Damien repeated, and smiled back, though not quite as widely. "I'm Damien."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, for possibly not the last time," Liam said.

"Same here," Damien answered.

"So, Damien," Liam continued, turning down a corridor, only barely watching where he was going, "what do you consider-"

"Watch out!" Damien grabbed Liam's arm, pulling him aside right before he would have collided with another thrall.

The thrall shot Liam an irritated glance, and tossed a grateful look Damien's way as she continued on her way.

"Oh!" Liam looked a bit shaken. "Wow. I didn't expect that. Thanks, Damien."

"No problem," Damien said quickly. "But maybe we should do a little less talking and a little more walking until we get to the kitchen."

"Good idea," Liam agreed sheepishly, turning and facing forward before he resumed his brisk walk.

Damien followed, and tried not to look as lost as he felt.

* * *

When Damien and Liam entered the kitchen, there was a mild commotion going on near the wash stations. Damien instantly recognized one voice as Dezzy, but he wasn't sure who the other speaker was.

"There's no way Damien would let something like that happen," Dezzy was saying, sounding like she was on the verge of hysteria. "I don't believe you!"

"I'm not saying it happened, I'm just saying that's the rumor," whoever the other speaker was said harshly. He had a deep, masculine voice, and sounded very annoyed. "I'm actually relieved. If it's not true, that's better for everyone."

"Both of you need to calm down," a third voice said. Damien was pretty sure it was Grace, though he couldn't say for sure.

While Damien was happy to stand at the outside of the circle surrounding the bickering trio, Liam clearly wanted to know what was happening, because he started shoving his way into the circle, gripping Damien's forearm with one hand and dragging him along for the ride. Before he quite realized it had happened, Damien found himself and Liam at the center of the circle.

"What's this about me?" he asked weakly, taking in the sight before him.

Dezzy was standing on her tiptoes, an outstretched index finger digging into the broad chest of a tall thrall with nearly waist-length chestnut brown hair. The thrall was staring down at Dezzy with a look of unamused disdain, and just a hint of a curled lip, as if he was trying to bare a fang that wasn't there.

Grace was standing just to the left of Dezzy, waving her hands ineffectually as she tried to calm both parties. When she saw Damien, a look of relief washed over her face and she visibly relaxed. "Damien!" she exclaimed.

"Damie!" Dezzy whirled around, removing her finger from the thrall, who dusted at his tunic as though she'd left some sort of grime behind. Damien didn't like the look he sent her way, and he narrowed his eyes at the thrall in return.

"Hey," he greeted, turning his attention to Dezzy after a moment. "I think you already know Liam, right?"

"Oh yeah! My demon-blood buddy!" Dezzy said, extending a fist.

Liam hesitantly bumped his knuckles to hers. "Hello again," he said, then glanced at Damien in confusion. "You two know each other?"

"We're good friends," Damien said quickly. "Childhood friends, you might say."

"You might," Dezzy slowly agreed, as if she was only just remembering that it was important to be subtle. A bit late, considering that she'd picked a fight with a thrall in the middle of the kitchen.

"So you're the infamous Damien?" the thrall she'd been arguing with asked, gazing down his nose at Damien as if he was inspecting a particularly unappealing specimen that he'd discovered on the sole of his shoe.

"I'm Damien," he answered. "Not sure whether I can claim infamy or not."

"You are the thrall that Cain refuses to share, though?" the thrall asked, his voice a bit sharp as he asked. He looked genuinely annoyed by the idea.

"Cain's protective of a lot of thralls," Damien said slowly.

"He doesn't usually pull them away into dark corners and threaten Crowe over them," the thrall shot back. "How many times has he fed from you? What did you do to tempt him?"

Damien felt his face go white. "He hasn't fed from me at all," he said, horrified by the very idea. "He doesn't do that. Besides, I'm sick."

"But you don't deny that you've won enough of his favor to get him to spend time alone with you," the thrall countered.

"Johann, give it a rest," Grace said. "Damien hasn't done anything."

"He's trying to steal Cain," Johann snapped, turning to glare at Grace. "And none of the rest of you care, but I do care, and I won't stand for it!"

"I care," Liam said in an undertone, but nobody seemed to pay him any mind.

"I am not trying to steal Cain," Damien said hotly. Why would he ever want a vampire to feed from him? The thought was horrifying to even consider. "I'm not well enough to be fed from, even if I wanted Cain! Which, again, I don't."

Johann narrowed his eyes at Damien. "Then stop spending so much time with him," he said. "You're being selfish."

"What do you mean, so much time?" Damien spluttered. "We've spoken for maybe fifteen minutes!" This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say, as it seemed like the entire kitchen ground to a halt. Even Grace was staring at Damien in surprise.

"Fifteen… minutes?" Liam asked quietly, sounding envious.

"Fifteen minutes in my lifetime," Damien clarified. "Which technically spans the eleven years that we've known each other." This was a bit of a stretch, as he doubted that watching someone murder your entire family technically counted as knowing someone, but it fit the narrative of being a long-term thrall well enough that he wasn't going to quibble over technicalities.

This seemed to calm everyone, and the kitchen thralls appeared to resume their duties. But Damien made a mental note that apparently long conversations with Cain were a rarity. He hadn't gotten that impression, since Cain had seemed very intent on having a long and serious talk with him. Then again, most people in the castle probably weren't impersonating thralls. That was probably why he'd taken so long with Damien. There was no reason to read into it beyond that.

"Oh, well, then that's not nearly as impressive," Johann said dismissively. "Maybe he doesn't like you that much, after all."

Damien wanted to feel glad about that, but for some reason the comment stung. Not enough for him to say something stupid, though, so he just shrugged. "I'm pretty sure he treats me the same as any other thrall."

Grace looked thoughtful at that, which did make Damien wonder if maybe she had an opinion on the matter she wasn't sharing, but he didn't want to draw attention to it, so he made a mental note to ask her about it later.

"Now that we've settled that," Dezzy said sharply, "can you run along and tell all the other thralls that Damie is not Cain's new boytoy, or whatever stupid story's been running around the castle?"

Damien felt one of his eyes twitch. "Wait," he said. "There's a rumor going around that I'm…" he couldn't bring himself to say the words. "…what?"

"Well if he's only spoken to you for fifteen minutes in eleven years, clearly there's nothing going on between you," Johann said dismissively. "The rumor will die on its own."

Damien thought about how vindictive Crowe was, and how vampires liked to mistreat the favored thralls of their enemies. And how Cain had been sent away. Even if the rumor died off on its own, the damage may have already been done. Crowe had already been targeting him before the rumor about him being some sort of special thrall to Cain. Just how much trouble was he going to be in by the time the rumors died down?

"If you say so," Dezzy said, though she didn't sound convinced.

"I do," Johann answered haughtily. "I should have known… Cain would never be interested in someone like him."

Well that was just rude. But Damien didn't disagree, necessarily. "Good," he said, "because i'm in no condition to draw any vampire's interest." And hopefully he'd be able to stay out of the public eye long enough for Crowe to forget about him, too. Then he'd be able to live relatively peacefully.

Though, given the look Grace was sending his way, he had a feeling that hoping for that much was due to a surplus of wishful thinking. Reality would likely be much more harsh.