[Malach]
The morning light crept through the curtains long before Malach moved.
He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, the silence of the estate pressing against him from all sides. Last night's surge of anger still lingered in his body like a dull ache. Eventually he stood and crossed the room, stepping carefully over scattered papers.
The broken frame lay where it had fallen, glass glittering across the floor. He crouched down and began to clean it piece by piece. The painting of New Birmingham, punctured and frayed, was folded and tucked discreetly into a cabinet drawer. The shards of glass he swept into a small cloth bag that he would dispose of later.
By the time he finished, there was no trace of his outburst. Not a single servant would suspect anything. The estate always swallowed secrets easily.
He straightened his clothes, checked the room once more, and stepped into the hallway.
Standing there was Ellor.
The middle aged attendant had tired eyes, the beginnings of wrinkles around the corners, and the same steady blue gaze he had worn for as long as Malach could remember.
"You are awake," Ellor said. "Good. There is something your parents wished me to tell you."
Malach felt a faint pressure in his chest.
Ellor continued, "They wanted to send their regards for your birthday. They left a call for you early this morning."
Malach nodded politely.
"There is more," Ellor added. "Your parents have arranged for you to relocate. You will move from this estate to a residence closer to the city. It is in the suburbs of New Birmingham. A bit smaller than this home, but much more convenient. Some members of the staff will accompany you. I will be one of them."
Malach felt his stomach tighten.
So soon after the test.
He kept his expression neutral, but a cold suspicion threaded through his thoughts. Had Orvell spoken to them anyway? Had the results been enough for his parents to move him out of sight completely? It was irrational, yet the feeling sank deep, familiar and sharp.
"When will the move happen?" Malach asked.
"Within the week," Ellor replied. "Preparations have already begun. Now then, let us get you to breakfast."
Malach followed him down the hallway. Their footsteps echoed softly off the tall walls.
Rows of portraits lined the corridor. Scenes of proud figures in old Albion attire. Ancestral homes in New York. Ships arriving on unfamiliar shores. Factories and warehouses from the early days of the family business. Six generations of steady rise. Six generations of ambition and success.
His eyes paused on a painting near the end of the hall.
A girl with dark hair, younger than him by two years. His sister. He had not seen her in several years. She looked calm in the portrait, almost distant, like someone who had already stepped into a world he could not reach.
Below it were plaques for each family member from past generations. His name was not among them.
He looked away.
They reached the dining room soon after. Several staff members bowed lightly when he entered. Orvell was there as well, sorting through a list of items with two other attendants. Ellor joined them and began discussing what should be taken to the new residence.
Malach sat at the long table.
Eggs. Milk. Fruit.
The same breakfast he had eaten every morning for as long as he could remember. The eggs cooled quickly on the plate. The fruit felt tasteless. He swallowed each bite slowly, without thought.
The conversation around him faded into a soft blur.
Despite everything, a faint spark of excitement pressed at the edges of his mind. He would be moving closer to the heart of New Birmingham. The capital city, situated at the mouth of the Mississippi River, he had only ever seen from afar.
He had lived on the outskirts of New Birmingham his entire life. Now he would finally see the world beyond these walls.
His thoughts drifted on quietly, carried by the image of a city he had never truly known.