She realized rather quickly that this man meant no harm; it
wasn’t his fault that most orphanages
were human stables, built just sturdily enough to house future beasts of burden
who just happened to walk upright.
Gloria, tasked with doing something about little Breanne’s clothes, followed her matron’s
instructions without a word. She bowed deeply for Ulridge’s benefit, who
clearly appreciated the gesture, as he smiled for quite a while afterward,
despite the grim nature of his business this day.
Sithe asked Daniel, a slip of a boy just months out of
swaddling clothes, to fetch Breanne a bedroll. She clearly hadn’t been sleeping
well, and could do well with a nap. This done—eventually, after several
repeated instructions—Sithe assured Ulridge that the girl would be well
provided for, thanked him profusely for bringing her, and did her best not to
seem too enthusiastic.
Sithe tempered her sense of triumph by reminding herself of
the heinous events which culminated in her latest charge. Not just those, but
also the fact that she knew, without
bothering to research, that tiny, shaking, traumatized Breanne was her next charge. No family would be
found for this girl. Except, of course, for William. They had no parents, no
aunts, no uncles.
Just an orphanage matron, and a wild man from Tera
Acerbis—called the Dark Lands by those too uncultured to know any better.
Truly, she thought, a pitiful display of human decency: her Mama summoned
monsters, and her Papa became one.
This line of thinking worked. Just like it always did.
By the time Junior Sentinel Weston Ulridge left her
orphanage, Sithe Breckenridge had forgotten how to smile.
* * *
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