Sayori discovered at a young age that most people seldom glance down.
Eyes wandered to power, to beauty, to noise.
Not to the girl whose scabbed knuckles are scrubbing floors. Not to the person with a low stare and soft steps.
As a result, the mansion welcomed her.
It all started in the kitchens.
Before sunrise, she came along with the other scullery staff. Copper pots produced steam. The bread was rising, and the elven bakers grumbled about it. Using their bright fingertips, a pair of dryad twins braided herbs and sang in a gentle tongue that caused the pots to move on their own.
Sayori bent down next to the ovens to collect ash.
Nobody inquired about her name.
When the high fae cook, Mistress Aelira, yelled at the pantry girl, no one saw her pause.
"Not that wine, no. The one from the East Wing cellars. The bottle that has a cracked wax seal. The Alpha has visitors, and they're big ones.
Sayori maintained her head down.
Fenris had not mentioned guests.
She remembered the specifics.
She later saw Thalen in the corridor carrying a pile of gorgeous coats over his shoulder. The dhampir didn't see her at first, but he nearly walked right into her.
With a twisted smile, he muttered, "Ah. Ghost girl. Still alive?"
Sayori gave a single nod.
"Do you always enjoy this?" he inquired.
"Give me an example."
"Like someone forgot to light a candle for a shadow."
"Shadows see everything," Sayori said with a small smile.
He blinked and then chuckled softly, "Clever little human."
She continued.
The laundry room was full of rumors.
"I swear she kissed him," whispered the selkie maid, elbow-deep in scented linens.
"Absolutely not," the sylph said, pressing collars. "Lady Cirelle would never. Not with a cursed one."
With pleasure, the selkie replied, "Not Fenris. His cousin, Lord Kaelen."
Sayori folded napkins in silence.
Later, as she was feeding the Bone Hound, whom she had given the name Whisper, she told her everything she had overheard.
"Guests in the East Wing. Lord Kaelen. Aelira is concealing something."
In recognition, the dog nudged her leg with its nose.
That evening, as she entered the gloomy corridor behind the library, Lord Fenris was there. With his arms crossed and his coat covered in snow, he stood in the light of a flickering torch.
"Well?" he said without turning.
Sayori repeated what she had heard after stepping forward. Names. Phrases. The bottle of wine with the shattered seal. The unwelcome cousin. The stolen kiss. Every look, every stray thread, every casual conversation.
He eventually turned to face her after she had finished.
Not as a female.
However, it has been honed to perfection.
"You remember everything," he remarked.
Sayori bowed.
"Good," Fenris muttered. "Tomorrow, the East Wing."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Do you want me to go there?"
"In brief. Relaxedly. Make as many observations as possible. Don't talk to anybody.
He stopped and then said in a lower voice, "But remember every word if they talk to you."
Sayori gave a nod.
He stopped her once more as she turned to leave.
"Just one more item."
She waited.
"Sayori, you've done well."
She was paralyzed by the statement.
She had never heard that before.
Like mist curling between stones, she slipped away, her chest tight, and her head nodding slowly.
Nobody in the castle saw her go by.
However, Sayori saw everything.
The web was also starting to take shape.