Raven had been working undercover at the Fenastra Manor for the past several years. Not consistently—their business prevented her from working the “normal” hours that she otherwise would—but that hadn’t mattered.

Thanks to her father’s closeness with Valyarus, Raven was given special hours to accommodate for her work outside the manor. It made for an extremely convenient alibi whenever she needed to hide where she actually was, but it came with one tiny problem… 

She actually had to work.

Not that she entirely minded working—Raven was a busybody who was constantly doing something for one of her jobs—but her work at the manor was different from that with her father.

At the manor, she worked as a servant. With other people.

And if there was anything she hated more than the curse she’d been born with, it would have to be people.

But Valyarus was kind enough to help Raven and her father conceal their identities with alibis, so the least she could do was actually do the work they were claiming she did.

If only she hadn’t been assigned a managerial position.

Something something ‘she knew what Valyarus wanted better than most without having to consult with him’ or whatever.

(It was probably just nepotism.)

Regardless, for the past few hours, Raven had been running from one end of the manor to the other to check up on everyone’s progress and make sure everything was being set up correctly.

Valyarus wasn’t a fan of sharing his desires, but he was an extreme micromanager who wasn’t afraid of making his distaste known when things didn’t go the way he wanted.

Which was all the more a reason that everyone preferred Raven in charge. She had something of a sixth sense for how Valyarus liked things, and he snapped at her a lot more “kindly” than he did toward others if she did something wrong.

Nepotism strikes again?

Anyways, in short: he was terrible to work for.

It really wasn’t surprising that so few people stuck around for the job despite its great pay and the prestige associated with working for Valyarus Fenastra himself.

Then again, there were also plenty of people who hated him. Lynsmouth was a funny place full of incredibly diverse political ideals and opinions. It was incredibly annoying and unnecessary.

Or, that’s what Raven’s father liked saying. 

It definitely made their jobs harder at the very least.

But she wasn’t helping her father with the “family business” right now. Instead, she was half-hidden behind a pillar on the second floor of the entrance hall and spacing out.

They’d finally finished setting everything up only minutes ago, managed to do a good enough job that even Valyarus had little to complain about, and the guests were due to arrive at any moment.

So Raven had a break.

And what else would she do with a moment’s free time but poke around in places she didn’t belong?

Hm, she thought, letting her hand slip from the pillar as she stared past the railing, down at the ground floor. Aria? Anyone on their way in?

‘Nope!’ another voice echoed cheerfully in her mind.

When Raven closed her eyes, another visual feed filled the darkness that should’ve been there. Instead, she had an aerial view from atop the walls surrounding the manor, where an inconspicuous crow sat surveying the area.

Aria, Raven’s familiar.

Unfortunately she’d been reduced to a crow, too, thanks to Raven’s curse. Something about how familiars’ souls were linked with that of their anchor. And, since Raven’s curse apparently corrupted her soul itself, Aria was also tainted by it. Forced into the form of a crow, even though it wasn’t what she was supposed to be.

Raven could relate.

She had some anti-curse charms she used to help blend in at work and while going about her daily business, but they didn’t do anything for Aria. Neither when Raven used them on herself, nor when they were used directly on Aria.

So she was stuck as a crow.

Still, unlike Raven, it helped Aria blend in. Nobody suspected the random crow sitting atop the walls to be a familiar keeping lookout for her anchor. And anybody who did was the exact kind of person Aria was keeping an eye out for.

The visual feed moved as something caught Aria’s attention.

A beetle.

Aria, I swear to all of Existence, Raven thought sharply.

‘But I’m hungryyy!’ Aria complained.

NOT WHILE I’M WATCHING!?

‘Then stop watching!’ Aria thought smugly, pouncing.

… and watching it fly away disappointedly.

Serves you right, Raven thought. But then she froze.

Only hesitating to keep from drawing her hidden switchblade, Raven flipped on her heel to face a maid who looked even more startled than her.

Except Raven hid her surprise, while Mirte jumped.

“Oh—Raven! Gods, I’m sorry!” the woman said, putting her hands to her heart and looking at the ground as she regained her breath.

“You’re fine,” Raven said evenly. She easily ignored the feeds coming from Aria—like she tended to when not talking to her. “What’s up?”

Mirte bit her lip for a second, glancing past Raven to the floor below.

“Um… I was just wondering what you were doing?” she asked.

Mirte was a new servant, hired to work for Valyarus less than a month ago. They’d barely crossed paths since then, as Raven had been working around the manor less while focusing on an assignment from her father, but Mirte’s nosiness had still caught Raven’s attention.

The only question was: was it just a personality trait of hers, or sinister?

Regardless, Raven quirked an eyebrow at Mirte and crossed her arms.

Waiting for you to leave so I can sneak off, she thought. But Raven hid her annoyance from her face behind a mask of fake amusement.

“Checking to see if people are coming in. What does it look like?”

Mirte shifted awkwardly, rocking slightly in place.

“I don’t know,” she said, putting a convincing-yet-fake smile on her lips. “But, oh! Uh, while I have your attention. Can I go on my break now? Since nobody’s here yet?”

You don’t have to lie, Raven thought irritably. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to take a break.

But she hid it entirely, grinning and uncrossing her arms to shrug.

“Why not. Enjoy,” Raven said. 

Mirte smiled more honestly, then turned to leave.

—but Raven couldn’t help a slightly devious: “You’ll need it.”

Mirte froze, looking to Raven with an alarmed look.

“What do you mean?” she asked, a bit too sharply.

Something about her reaction felt off, but Raven only spared their surroundings a cursory look before leveling her eyes on Mirte again.

“The gala’s going to be a lot? I mean, have you ever catered a party before? They’re ridiculous. What else could I have meant?” Raven asked, trying to keep her suspicion out of her voice.

Mirte gave another fake smile, this one less convincing than the last.

“Ha, I don’t know,” she said, turning her head to scratch her head. “Guess I’m just a little nervous. It’s, um, my first time doing anything like this. Y’know, I’m not, um… part of this ‘class’?”

Mirte finally forced herself to meet Raven’s eyes again, her fake smile still on her lips and as unconvincing as before.

Hm, Raven thought, keeping her frown off her lips. Check up on you when I have a chance, got it.

“Right, of course,” Raven said—probably disbelievingly. So she put on a wider smile to try to sell the act. “Well, enjoy your break!”

Mirte returned the smile, seemingly convinced, and finally turned on her heel to go on her break.

It’s probably nothing, but… I don’t like this, Raven thought as she watched Mirte. 

She wanted to sigh and roll her eyes, but resisted the urge.

I can’t believe I’m getting this worried over some stupid, prissy girl’s party. What was her name again? “Faye”? Gods, she’s going to be around a lot more after this. Getting engaged to Daleira? Ugh. Just what I need, more people like her around.

Once Mirte rounded a corner, Raven finally let herself sigh, leaned back against one of the pillars, and slowly slid down to the ground. Her eyes closed the moment her butt hit the ground.

Alright. Aria?

‘Yes?’ her familiar’s voice asked. Aria had returned to watching the perimeter, but was now hopping about on the wall to occupy herself.

Raven fought the desire to berate Aria for her recklessness, trying to reassure herself that people didn’t pay attention to random birds. Even ones that acted different.

… right?

‘Okay, I’ll stop. Sorry,’ Aria thought, slumping, but settling in place beside the entrance gate.

It’s not you, I just—

‘You don’t have to explain! I get it, you’re stressed. What did you want to ask?’

Sometimes Raven forgot how mature Aria could be, what with how ridiculous she acted most of the time. And that thought inevitably slipped from Raven’s mind to hers—though neither remarked on it. It was nothing new to them.

Mirte, Raven explained, thinking of the woman’s face. Thin, but otherwise plain and unassuming. Her only remarkable features were her auburn hair, slight awkwardness, and nosiness. Whenever all the guests arrive, can you come in here and watch her? I don’t know how much of it you saw, but—

‘Hm, no, I see what you mean. Something’s definitely off about her,’ Aria thought back.

Their telepathic bond—sharing all of their senses, emotions, and thoughts with each other—went both ways. Raven could see, feel, and sense anything that Aria could, and Aria could do the same with her. Such was the bond typical between a familiar and their anchor.

“Anchor”—because Raven had been the one to summon Aria to their world. Without Raven, Aria would still be a formless daimon within the Faewildes, either drifting meaninglessly or forced to obey the command of an entity stronger than her. And if their connection were to sever, that’s where she’d return.

Drifting meaninglessly, alone.

Maybe that’s part of why Aria was the daimon Raven summoned. They had so much in common that their connection was easy from the moment they met.

But none of that was either here nor there.

Alright, thank you, Raven thought.

‘Of course!’ Aria replied, fighting the urge to wiggle in place happily… and failing miserably.

As much as the “unprofessionalism” annoyed Raven, she couldn’t deny that Aria’s cheerfulness rubbed off on her. Whether that was because she was just happy to see Aria happy or because of their connection, neither could say.

It wasn’t a question they cared to answer, regardless.

Finally, Raven opened her eyes to triple-check that nobody else was around to see her. She had long since gotten good at using magic to sense others’ presence—which is how she’d noticed Mirte behind her—but it was always good to make sure.

And… nobody.

Good.

Raven melted into the shadows, disappearing to the rest of the world.

(Please don't forget to leave a like and/or comment to support me and show me you like the story! It really means the world to me, will help with the Tapas algorithm, and can help me do better in the contest... which will help me so, so much irl!!! Ily guys, thanks for reading <3)