HER gaze flicked from Nathan to the wide staircase that curled like a serpent down to the living room. She looked back at Nathan, confusion tightening her brow.

“No work today?” she asked, masking her irritation behind a thin smile.

Nathan had that ever-neutral look plastered on his face, the one that always made Queen feel oddly invisible, like she was just another wall hanging in Oswald’s house. He adjusted the folder under his arm and cleared his throat.

“No, ma’am. He won’t be going in today,” Nathan said evenly.

Queen blinked, willing her tone to stay sweet.

“Why? Is he—”

“He is… not disposed for work today,” Nathan interjected,...