Milo stood at the entrance of the kitchen. He felt very nervous. The noise and the shouting reminded him of when Nero was angry. He stayed close to the wall, hoping no one would notice him.
The girl who had brought him there had disappeared into the next room.
Luke continued to curse. He was moving toward a back room where the stoves were. "Why is everyone here? Go back to sleep!"
"We have to work, Luke," another woman said. "The big boss asked us to stay here. We have to clean the basement later today."
"Then do something elsewhere! You are on my nerves!" Luke picked up a pot and slammed it onto a table.
The girl came back toward Milo. She was holding a clean glass of water. She handed it to him and smiled. She saw the look of fear on his face.
"Don't worry about him," she whispered. "He is always like that when he is cooking. But he is actually very nice once the food is done. Don't mind him."
Milo took the water and drank it. It was cold and felt wonderful in his dry throat. As he drank, his eyes moved around the room. He saw a flash of light near the edge of a large wooden cutting board. A heavy towel was draped over something.
"Excuse me..." Milo said quietly. He walked a few steps toward Luke.
Luke stopped and looked at him. He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Milo pointed toward the corner of the table. "I think... I think you are looking for that knife?"
Luke stepped forward and ripped the towel away. There was a large knife used to cut meat. Luke stared at it for a second. He let out a loud sigh.
"There it is! I knew someone moved it and didn't know how to return it!"
He didn't thank Milo, but he stopped shouting. He grabbed the knife and went back into the cooking area, grumbling to himself.
Milo finished his water. As he was about to leave, an old man walked into the kitchen. He had gray hair and wore a thick work vest.
"It is six already," the old man said to the room. "Henry said he would send his man this morning."
The girl who had given Milo water was grabbing a napkin. Milo noticed that the servants here didn't wear uniforms like the ones at Nero's. Everyone just wore normal, comfortable clothes.
"I don't know if they will come this early, Bernard," the girl said. "It isn't even seven yet."
"I asked him since last week!" Bernard grumbled. He looked around the kitchen and his eyes landed on Milo.
"Hey, who are you?"
Milo swallowed. "I... I am..." He stopped. He didn't know what to say. If he said he was a slave, they might treat him badly. If he said he was a guest, they would know he was lying because of how he looked.
"New guard?" Bernard asked. He looked at Milo's thin arms and his pale face. He did not look convinced.
Milo shook his head. "No. But... I can help with housework. I can clean."
"A maid?" Bernard asked, raising an eyebrow.
Milo stayed silent. He didn't mind being called a maid. It was better than being called a table.
Bernard suddenly reached out and grabbed Milo's arm. He didn't pull hard, but he was firm. "Actually, you are perfect. Small. You can help me clean the chimney. It has been blocked since last summer. Salvatore has been pressing me to get it done since last week. But I'm too big. I can't fit my arms in there to reach the soot."
Milo was confused, but he nodded. "I can do that. I will help."
He had never cleaned a chimney, but he would do anything to stay there.
"Good. Come with me," Bernard said.
They walked out the back door and into the fresh morning air. The mansion was even bigger from the outside. Milo looked up at the stone walls. There were green vines and moss growing on the higher parts of the building.
The area below, the garden, the yard, and the surroundings, looked clean and well-maintained, except for the building itself, which appeared old.
They walked along a stone path. There were several smaller buildings separated from the main house. Bernard led him to an old stone structure that looked like it hadn't been used in a long time.
Inside, there were large ovens built into the walls. It smelled like old wood and dust. It looked like an old bakery.
Bernard pointed to a hole in the wall above one of the ovens. "The blockage is up there. I have a brush and a bucket. You just need to climb up and pull out the debris."
Milo nodded. He didn't care if he got dirty. He just wanted to be useful. He climbed onto the ledge and started to work. He reached deep into the stone chimney, pulling out clumps of old leaves and black soot.
He didn't even care about his wounds; he was focusing on the work right now.
A few hours passed. The sun was higher in the sky now.
In the main garden, Salvatore walked out from the basement. His face was tired. His hands were stained with red blood, and there were spots of it on his shirt. He was in a dark mood.
He walked past the back garden, heading toward the main house to wash. He looked toward the old bakery building. He noticed something moving on the roof. He stopped and narrowed his eyes.
He saw a small figure covered in black dust. The person was leaning out of the chimney, holding a bucket of soot.
"What the hell is he doing?" Salvatore whispered.
He was even more shocked when he realized it was Milo.
The "gift" from Nero Hartley was covered in black soot, working like a common laborer on top of the house.
Salvatore stood still, watching the young man work. He had expected Milo to be in bed, crying or waiting to be told what to do. He had not expected to find him cleaning a chimney.
Salvatore looked at his own bloody hands and then back at the young man on the roof. He felt a strange sense of confusion.