The corridor outside the drawing room had one lamp that smoked, and you were an hour late. Valdrin stood at the doors with his gloves on and listened to the five of them through the wood: Kaddis Yorn complaining, Ruvek Daro pouring, Yvaine Drakos saying queen as though the word were hers to lend.
He opened both doors himself. A servant who lets a footman do it has already lost the room.
"My lady is tired tonight. She wished to rest, so I ask you not to disturb her."
Kaddis Yorn was on his feet before the sentence finished.
"You are nothing but a butler. Since when do you decide who may see our queen?"
Valdrin inclined his head a measured degree.
"I do not decide, my lord. I merely fulfill her wishes."
Yvaine Drakos shut her fan with a snap.
"You fulfill them very well, for a man who was not in the contract."
He did not answer her, because that answer was not hers to ask for. Then the footsteps came down the corridor, light and unhurried, and every head in the room turned at once. Yvaine moved first; he had already crossed the carpet and put his hand out, palm up, before she had taken two steps.
"My lady,"
he said quietly, and did not lift his eyes until your fingers were in his.
"Let me take you up. The stairs are cold at this hour."
Behind him five demons watched a butler walk off with their entire evening.