Estelle worked in the dining hall without speaking a word, the only sound in the room the tinkling of the china plates against one another as she picked them up to place on the table. The delicate porcelain stood out brightly against the dark oak of the table and the silver-plated chargers they rested on, flanked on either side by flatware, gilded detailing shining under the chandelier. Napkins lay on her cart, waiting to be folded into tents to sit atop each plate.
 
 
It would be a very fine dinner, she thought to herself. One which, naturally, she would not take part in. She was a servant, and a servant did not dine with the Lady of the House.
 
 
She glanced up after setting a plate into place, her eyes catching the portrait hanging on the far wall. A young Cassandra, hardly more than a few years in age, stood before her parents, all three of them poised and dignified.
 
 
Master Selby and his wife were a few years deceased when she accepted her position in Cassandra’s household. The servants’ quarters had laid bare for months by the time she’d arrived; aside from the ladies who would visit from time to time, they mostly remained so. The room that had once been her employer’s nursery became her own, while her Lady took over her parents’ suite and turned her former room into her study.
 
 
She had no pretense of feeling that was a part of Cassandra’s family. She was intimately aware, though, that she was something more than just a hired servant.
 
 
Her attention turned back to her chores, hands lifting the napkins laid out on her cart to fold them. She would eat alone tonight, as she normally did. The thought of sitting down with the other servants for dinner was too uncomfortable; she felt out of place, removed from their conversations. She was alien amongst them, and knew enough to realize that they looked at her with the same confusion that she looked at all of them.
 
 
The corner of an envelope peaked out from under the napkins, catching her by surprise. She finished the last napkin, laid it carefully onto its plate, and picked up the envelope. Ms. Estelle, read the fine, crisp handwriting on the front. She handled enough of Cassandra’s mail to know the writing was Lady Violette’s. Why would she write a note to me?
 
 
She walked across the room and through a door painted to blend with the wall, walking back through the short, bare corridor to the kitchen. She sliced the back of the envelope open with a knife and drew the folded paper inside out.
 
 
Ms. Estelle,
 
 
I would be honored to share dessert with you this evening, following dinner with Lady Selby. I have been most entranced with our conversations in the garden yesterday, and would be pleased to share more of my time with you, so long as I am not interfering with your responsibilities.
 
 
Please respond this afternoon so that I may have my staff prepare matters for our meeting. I will patiently await your reply.
 
 
Dearest wishes,
 
 
Violette Wilamere
 
 
Her face turned red, hands trembling for a moment, long enough to drop the note back onto her cart. Violette had been quite forward with her, speaking as casually with her as Cassandra typically did. This, however, was more than she expected. Was she really that bold? The aristocracy prided itself on how supposedly progressive it was; yet, the idea of one of their own romancing a servant was something people whispered about. Something scandalous that was discussed in close quarters at parties, in conversations that never included the subject of their conversation.
 
 
Violette was a potent figure; the only woman in the capital to hold full control over a major banking enterprise. She was powerful and wealthier than most any private citizen in the country; only the Queen and her considerable family possessed more. What would possess her to make such a bold move?
 
 
Then again, Estelle realized, her cheeks slowly cooling, who could realistically challenge Violette’s choice in lovers?
 
 
She picked up the envelope again, only now noticing the response card still tucked inside, marked with two boxes: one to accept, and one to decline, the woman’s invitation.
 
 
There was danger in this invitation; that much, she knew. There was also, however, change.
 
 
Estelle tucked the invitation and response back into their envelope, placing the papers into a pocket on her apron. She would address the matter briefly; first, however, she must oversee the servants assisting with dinner.
 
 
~
 
 
The spiraling stairs swept downwards, and Cassandra flew down them, hardly touching each stone stair with her feet before descending to the next. The light she held at the end of the long, wooden lighter she gripped made each lantern flare to life, illuminating the path ahead of her.
 
 
It was cool beneath the manor, this hidden chamber laid deep underground. The architecture around her looked older the further she descended, with the bottom-most level built of wood and stone that seemed as though it was older than the country it was buried under.
 
 
A door stood at the bottom of the stairs, carved with the Selby family crest. She quickly thrust the old iron key into the lock and pushed the ancient door open, hardly even noticing it groaning as she rushed inside.
 
 
The old library here was not as old as the room it stood in. She had hardly any idea what this space had originally been meant for; the bookshelves along the stone and dirt walls were hardly more than a few generations old, the glass jars stored in cabinets along the furthest wall hardly much older than that. The materials themselves did not matter; what this place had been created to house, created to guard and hide, was as old as the land itself.
 
 
She pulled the heavy tome down from its shelf, throwing it open on the work table that stood in the middle of the room. The words, in a language long forgotten, were supplemented with notes in she and Estelle’s own hand; she’d followed them so many times, though, that she hardly needed them. Her hands knew all the motions, the proportions of each compound, each herb. Were it not for the incantation itself, she could do all of this without the book.
 
 
Her finger traced under the words, whispering them, breathing them over her lips. It was the words, though, that made this feel powerful. She was unsure if she believed in the supernatural, that what she was working was truly magic and not merely some science from a long distant age. But there was something about these words, this spell, that made her feel powerful, as though the energy of the earth itself flowed through this room and into her body. It felt as though lightning itself crackled within her, sparking from her fingertips into the jar containing her poison.
 
 
She smiled, staring at the pale, blue liquid she now held. This simple draught had the power to transform the body, to enslave it to a proportion and a shape powerless to stop her.
 
 
Approaching steps pulled her back into the rest of the world; the sound of a voice, a voice she did not recognize, calling out for her. She slammed the book shut and quickly and threw it back into its place, palming the vial of poison as she hurried to the door.
 
 
Two of Violette’s servants were at the door, looking startled to find themselves where they were. Cassandra cursed under her breath; she must not have closed the door completely. “May I help you, ladies?” she said, speaking the words too sharply.
 
 
“Lady Selby,” one of them, a short brunette whose clothes seemed a little too big on her, “your dinner will be finished shortly. We came to remind you, so that you might greet your guests.”
 
 
She snorted, fingertips pressing into her palms tightly. Violette! The nerve of her, summoning me to my own dinner! Then, as quickly as she tensed, she suddenly felt the anger subside from her body. Violette’s servants, she thought, fingers curling around the vial in her hand. If her fellow aristocrat desired to take one of her servants from her, then perhaps she would do the same.
 
 
“Yes, yes, of course,” she said, and nodded to the girls at her door. “I could, however, use some assistance finishing a bit of work here in my private study. Do you think that Lady Violette would be bothered by your brief absence?”
 
 
The taller of the two girls, a blond with boyish features, shook her head. “Certainly not. Our Lady would hardly have us turn down a request of assistance from her peer.”
 
 
Cassandra stood aside, gesturing for the two girls to step inside, a hungry look on her face as she pulled the door closed behind them. “Thank you, my dears,” she said, rolling the vial between her thumb and palm. “I assure you both, you will be quite helpful to me this evening.”
 
 
~
 
 
Conversation began to wrap up at the dinner table, the most agreeable discussion Cassandra had from her guests since they arrived. Much of it was dominated by Lady Starling’s world travels, particularly her recent visit to Kasabla, the capital city of El-Shams. She allowed her to speak as much as she wanted, as it kept Milford from directing her cold attitude towards her.
 
 
Violette, however, seemed anxious, and ready to leave the table. Cassandra smiled, directing one of the visiting servants to bring in a dish to her study. “Lady Violette,” she started, rising from her seat. “Would you care to join me in my study? You’ve yet to place your order for the coming season and I do wish to discuss the matter with you before you leave in the morning.”
 
 
“I am afraid I cannot, Lady Selby,” Violette said, rising up from her own place at the table. “I already have a prior appointment that I must keep.”
 
 
Cassandra smirked. “Oh, Lady Violette, you are my guest and you cannot even enjoy my company for a little while? I’m sure your meeting can wait a short while.”
 
 
She watched as Violette bit her lip, the woman’s soft, fine hands holding tightly to the back of her chair. “I must insist...”
 
 
“I must insist,” Cassandra said, hands folded neatly atop one another at her waist, “that we discuss a few other matters as well. You are largely responsible for my financial affairs, and I wish to make plans for the coming year to grow what I have into something more substantial and permanent.”
 
 
She walked the length of the room to stand at Violette’s side, staring sideways at the other woman as she clutched at her chair. “Besides, Lady Violette. Who could you possibly be meeting with while staying as a guest in my own home.”
 
 
Violette frowned, relinquishing her grip on the chair to turn towards Cassandra. “If we must, then. I can delay my own appointments for the time being, if it is that important to you.”
 
 
“Thank you, and yes, what I wish to discuss is of great importance,” Cassandra said, leading Violette through the door. “But over tea and delights, naturally. We should be at ease while talking business.”
 
 
Violette forced a smile. “Why, yes. Of course.”
 
 
~
 
 
The table in Cassandra’s study was much smaller than the grander piece of furniture in the dining room, a simple round table just large enough to hold their tea cups and the covered dish set between them, without seeming too crowded. One of Violette’s servants checked that their tea had finished steeping as the two women entered, disposing of the used tea bags before leaving the room.
 
 
“This is quite cordial of you,” Violette said, walking with Cassandra over to the table. “I don’t think we’ve sat down to dessert privately in... well, I don’t even remember if we have.”
 
 
“Nor do I remember, but we shall remedy that.”
 
 
Both took their seats, Violette admiring the view from Cassandra’s window, while Cassandra sipped at the hot tea in her cup. “It’s a most lovely view,” Violette said, reaching out to touch the glass panes. “Green hills, and blue skies. Far more pleasant than the grey of the city, if you ask me. Quite idyllic.”
 
 
“It is,” Cassandra said, careful to conceal the frown on her face. “Lady Milford placed her order with me last night, while Lady Starling did so not long after arriving the other day. I was wondering, though, if you were still interested in obtaining a supply of my most recent flavors.”
 
 
Violette turned back around, one hand resting in her lap while the other lifted her teacup to her lips, pouring a thin stream of the hot beverage past them. “I am, yes,” she said, settling the cup down noiselessly. “The flavor you shared with us the day we arrived were good, teased my nose and tongue as much as my first taste.”
 
 
“I am glad,” Cassandra said. She reached out, resting a hand on the lid covering the dish set between them. “I did, however, prepare something special for you. Only for you, I might add. Mixed a special flavoring to coat them with that hasn’t been tried before. Should you like, I can prepare an entire tin.”
 
 
Violette laughed, shaking her head. “Lady Selby, you spoil me. You needn’t prepare such things for me.”
 
 
“I insist!” She raised the lid, revealing the two girls and two boys bound and dipped in white chocolate, a curling line of cream drawn over their bodies. “The girls I prepared especially for you, as I know those are usually your favorites. I’ll have the boys with my tea. Please, help yourself to one.”
 
 
“Of course.”
 
 
Violette reached out to pluck one of the two miniature ladies from the platter; Cassandra smiled, seeing the moisture on the other woman’s lips, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between them as she brought the bound-up woman closer. “A brunette,” Violette said, tilting her head to one side, and then the other, examining her treat. “I do very much enjoy the brunettes. Which seems silly, because you can’t exactly taste the hair color.”
 
 
She laughed quietly, holding the delight to her mouth, parting her lips just enough to slowly stroke her tongue over its body, drawing the cream decoration into her mouth with some of the white chocolate. “A fine flavor thus far. As I was saying... brunette’s always seem to have an... earthy quality. I guess it comes from being the coloration of the commoner, possessing a body that has worked the land, some of the land’s scents and qualities are absorbed into the skin.”
 
 
“Perhaps that is the case,” Cassandra said, withdrawing her own delight from her lips before she spoke. Some of the chocolate had been licked away on hers, exposing the bare upper body of the boy held between her fingers. “I have noticed such things myself, over the past few years.”
 
 
Violette admired the delight she held one more time, before pressing its head to her lips, slowly sucking its body into her mouth, little by little. The woman hummed in pleasure, feeling out the body sliding into her mouth with her tongue, before its writing form landed fully on that muscle. She smiled, curling her tongue around the delight, squeezing it against her taste buds, before letting it slide back into her throat.
 
 
“Heavenly, Lady Selby,” she said, licking the chocolate from her lips. “Absolutely heavenly.”
 
 
“You have another, don’t forget,” Cassandra nodded before placing her own delight into her mouth, taking her time to roll her treat around on her tongue, letting the taste of white chocolate and cream to mingle with the flavor of its skin.
 
 
“Of course!” Violette took another drink of her tea, letting the taste of her last delight wash down into the abyss to which the miniature person was now consigned. “I will have to order some more of these before I leave. The chocolate and cream tastes marvelous on them.”
 
 
“I shall put you down for a box, then.”
 
 
“Please, do.” Violette reached out for the second delight, the blonde, stroking the top of its head with a fingertip. “Now, this one... I do rather like the look of this one. Boyish, and yet, still feminine. A perfect blend of the sexes, just what I do admire...”
 
 
She looked up to see Cassandra staring at her, and laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Lady Selby. I don’t treat this as the other two do, and simply pretend that these are fancy candies. No; the fact that they are alive is what pleases me most.”
 
 
She grasped the string binding the delight’s arms to her side, breaking it free from the white chocolate covering it, dangling the delight before her face. Something gleamed in Violette’s eyes, Cassandra noticed; she wasn’t sure if it was the moon shining through the window, or something altogether unnatural within her guest. “The fact that they are helpless, voiceless, powerless to fight back as you seal them up inside your mouth and just use them rather makes me warm inside. I must confide in you, Lady Selby, that sometimes I cannot help myself while I am enjoying them, and commit such sensuous acts!”
 
 
Cassandra paused, considering whether to eat her second delight just yet, her fingers playing with the tiny body resting on the plate. “Perhaps I can understand that, Lady Violette. My delights are, after all, intended to bring out our darkest, most secret desires. They can make even the most proper lady feel quite scandalous.”
 
 
“Indeed, they can...”
 
 
Violette tilted her head back, lowering her delight into her mouth head-first, letting go for a brief moment before catching its ankles with her lips. She waited, watching, as though she were making sure Cassandra could see exactly what she was doing, before sucking the feet inside and swallowing. “You hardly even let yourself taste that one,” Cassandra said, pretending to pout.
 
 
“It wasn’t about the flavor that time,” Violette said, grinning as she drank her tea. “It was for the thrill of it all.”
 
 
“Is that how you are? Seeking a thrill?”
 
 
Violette blinked, cradling her tea cup in her hands as she stared across the table at Cassandra. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you, Lady Selby.”
 
 
Cassandra’s teacup came to rest on its saucer with an audible clink. “Is that why you’ve taken such an interest in my servant? For the thrill of an affair with a woman of a lower class?”
 
 
“I am pursuing no such thing,” Violette said, turning her attention back to the window. “It would be indecent. Ms. Estelle appears displeased with her employment with you, and we were discussing a potential change in her employment. It is nothing more than that.”
 
 
“You were flirting with her in my gardens,” she said, sitting upright in her chair. “You had the audacity to try and take from me, in my own home...”
 
 
“I was taking nothing,” Violette laid her hands on top of one another, her cup clattering against its saucer, the lukewarm liquid inside rippling as she shook. “Perhaps if you paid attention to your servant’s desires and ceased acting like a petulant child, she wouldn’t be so interested in leaving your household.”
 
 
Cassandra smirked, leaning down until her lips were level with Violette’s ear. “Perhaps if you paid more attention to yours, you would have thought twice before sending to of them to your stomach.”
 
 
The other woman’s face turned white, the color draining from her cheeks as her hand flew to her stomach. “You wouldn’t have... surely, you wouldn’t have...”
 
 
“Are you that disinterested in them, Violette, that you didn’t even recognize them? Perhaps it was hard to tell at first, coated in chocolate as they were.” She stood back up, walking behind Violette, watching her quake in her seat. “But you took the time to lick all of that off. You even commented on how they looked. You could see them. And you simply slipped them into your mouth...”
 
 
“You...” Violette’s hands closed into tight balls in her lap, clutching at her dress. “You are a murderer...”
 
 
“Oh, and now we’re suddenly righteous? What will you do, Lady Wilamere? Will you go to the police? And what do you plan to tell them? That Miss Cassandra Selby shrank two of your servants and presented them to you as chocolate covered treats that you ate, not realizing their identity?”
 
 
“I will uncover everything you do in this house, Lady Selby.” Violette’s body seemed to vibrate; Cassandra swore she could hear the woman’s teeth grinding against themselves. “I will expose all your secrets to the world, and leave you naked in the public square, with none to defend you.”
 
 
Cassandra slammed her hands onto the table, leaning over Violette, smiled spanning the width of her face. “Then you will be brought down with me. I have records of every tin I’ve sold, surely you know that. After they take me, they will come for Starling, and Milford, and you, and everyone else who ever bought these tins. We are all murderers, together, Violette. There are secrets in all of our houses.”
 
 
The sound of wood screeching over wood cut through the room, Violette rushing away from the table to make for the door. “Will you make yourself ill to try and save them?” Cassandra called after her. “I don’t think that will help. It’s much too late for that!”
 
 
Violette spun around, throwing the door open as she glared at Cassandra, the lanterns in the room casting harsh shadows over her face. “I will expose you, Cassandra. And I will ruin you.”
 
 
She slammed the door behind her; Cassandra laughed as the woman’s footsteps rushed away.
 
 
~
 
 
Cassandra watched in satisfaction as the cars and carriages reached the end of the drive, turning back onto the road leading towards the capital. Business was done, and she would have money for another season to maintain her life-- her ledgers were full of black ink, and her stockroom far emptier than it had been just days before. It would empty more still as tins were mailed out in the coming months.
 
 
Most pleasingly, though, was that Violette was put in her place. For once, she held the banking mogul’s strings, instead of being her puppet. She hadn’t stopped smiling since that night, when Violette run away, clutching her stomach.
 
 
The house had been silent of the matter; no rumors, it seemed, had reached Milford and Starling’s ears. For how much they each loved to whisper about one another, it seemed that the prospect of their predatory habits becoming public knowledge was enough to keep their lips sealed.
 
 
“Those girls did not deserve what you did to them.”
 
 
Cassandra jumped, catching one of the pillars on the front porch to keep her balance. “Estelle! Please, you shouldn’t startle me like that...”
 
 
Her servant stood in the doorway; it took a moment for Cassandra to realize that she was dressed, not in her maid’s gown, but in a plain cotton blouse and brown pants. Her hair was tucked up into a cloth cap, with only a few locks hanging down around her face. A heavy suitcase leaned against the door frame, its corners worn, the leather covering it cracked in places.
 
 
Cassandra found her lungs emptied of breath. “Where are you going?”
 
 
“Away from here. I cannot... I will not... work for someone with so little regard for lives.”
 
 
Cassandra’s lips flapped, sputtering forth noises she struggled to piece together into words. “How can you... we did this, together, Estelle! You are just as responsible as me!”
 
 
“I helped you uncover a secret out of desperation. We stole orphans, dying in neglect from lack of anyone’s interest. We turned them into cattle...” Estelle reached down, picking up her luggage as she walked towards Cassandra. Estelle seemed tall, towering over her, Cassandra thought, feeling her knees start to buckle. “That is the crime that we both share.”
 
 
“But you murdered those two girls! The other servants, they saw you preparing them, but they were afraid to speak a word of it to anyone... afraid that no one would believe them, and afraid that you might take them, next.”
 
 
“I needed something,” Cassandra’s knees gave out, dropping her to the wooden planks of the deck, kneeling at Estelle’s feet. She reached out to take hold of the other woman’s ankles, crying out when Estelle’s foot twisted away, then snapped back and kicked Cassandra’s arm away. “Estelle, please!”
 
 
“Don’t you dare! We’re not your playthings or your pawns!” Cassandra started to stand, only to have Estelle’s boot catch her shoulder, one push of her leg sending the aristocrat crashing down onto her side. “You might think otherwise, but there will always be people in this world, Cassandra, who will not look the other way when you use people for these... these petty rivalries the lot of you have!”
 
 
Estelle descended the steps to the drive, starting to make her way towards the road. Cassandra picked herself back up, resting on her shins, lips trembling as she watched Estelle walk away. “Where,” she called out, “where will you go?”
 
 
The woman stopped, looking back over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Away from here.”
 
 
She should chase her, Cassandra thought, watching Estelle grow smaller, more distant. She wished it was only that the woman was shrinking, that she could pluck her from the distance and pull her back, keep her from slipping away. She wanted to call out to her, beg her not to leave. The ache in her shoulder and the tears streaming over her cheeks, though, told her it wouldn’t work. Estelle would hear none of what she could say, if she could manage to even find words.
 
 
She sat on the porch for hours, frozen in place long after Estelle had disappeared over the horizon, slowly making her way towards the city. It was only in the afternoon, her stomach growling in protest, that she willed herself back to her feet.
 
 
She would do something, she decided. She always did something.
 
 
For once, though, she could not fathom what that something was.