I have been given a new task. It’s preposterous! And it makes my fingers bleed.
Jyssel has set me to weaving. She usually weaves on the loom as a dainty little hobby of hers, but this ParKeshan thread (is there any other place across the sea?) is so coarse that it would rip her little fingers to shreds. As it does mine. Ursula put a salve on the cuts and wrapped them in old linen strips, but they always come off when I start a-weaving again.
The thread is an awful brown– not a color I would have ever chosen. Lady Jyssel wants it for a tapestry in her banquet hall. It is to be nine feet by four feet before I am finished.
I just pray she doesn’t want me to embroider it.
The servant’s party is to be held on Sunday night, after everyone is finished with their duties. Freniar explained to me it is an annual thing, and everyone helps each other out to make sure every can finish and attend the party. I hope we have tasty food. All I have seen for the past five months is a burnt tasting sort of meatloaf, and lots of corncakes. I suppose that’s what we’re fed because they are filling. Very filling. To the point it’s hard to swallow, and makes me gag.
I only had the time to write a few words– and could get smacked smartly if I’m found.
Today with Jyne was horror, like always. I never look at her in the eyes anymore, and I think she takes it that I am afraid of her, which makes her quite smug. And that just makes me want to slap her all the more.
Today it was raining, the enormous raindrops falling into the dirt and marble pathways like crystals. So, needless to say, we stayed inside.
Jyne decided she wanted her nails to be buffed and shined, and maybe stained. The servant with me, Dechey, took her hands immediately and got to work. While she began she told me where to find all the tools for the job.
“Go and ask Ursula for some raspberry dye, and the shiner is in the drawer where the silver stays.”
How revolting. Pieces of Jyne’s nails in with their eating utensils? I am glad I didn’t know that when I was invited to tea so long ago.
I ran down the ten flights of stairs and into the kitchen. “Ursula!” I rang out, “I need dyes for Jyne’s nails.”
She was cutting red potatoes. Skillfully, she motioned with her right hand to a high cupboard. “In there.”
I climbed up on the counter, for it was far out of my reach. Even standing on the counter– I caught Fredoi glaring at me. My feet were clean; I had been a ladies maid all morning. I stood on my tiptoes and opened the cabinet. I reached up, stretching my arm as far as I could, and I felt a little bottle. That had to be it. I used the tips of my fingers to get it off the shelf, but I lost grip.
It fell and shattered on the floor.
Quickly I jumped down, avoiding the goo, noticing it didn’t even have any color. I saw the shard of glass with the label on it. It was the raspberry dye. I moaned.
“Ack!” Fredoi exclaimed. “Get that off my floor before it colors, girl!”
“Ah,” I said, enlightened. “So it does eventually gain color?”
He just muttered in return, “Clumsy little fool.”
I retrieved the mop and mopped in a hurry. I salvaged the wrapper from the raspberry dye and got back onto the counter, taking more care this time. Perhaps there was another color close to raspberry.
I knocked another bottle out of the cupboard, but caught it this time. I nearly hyperventilated in relief. It said eb berry. I shrugged. It could be close to the same, and no one would ever know until I was safely out of swatting range.
I ran back up the ten flights of stairs with the eb berry, now entitled raspberry. I almost forgot the shiner; I dodged into the dining hall right before I passed it.
“Must you take such a dreadfully long time, wretch?” I heard Jyne calling.
I was rushing as fast as I would allow myself.
I fumbled until I found the horrid shiner. It was a block about three inches up and down. Made of a dark black rock, it glistened as I moved it back and forth. I clenched it safely in my hand and shut the drawer, following Jyne’s howling until I found her and Dechey.
Ignored Jyne’s, “Took long enough.” I gave the shiner to Dechey, but she handed it back.
“What?” I said, pestered-toned.
Dechey rolled her tiny black eyes. “You are doing Lady Jyne’s feet. I’m done with her hands, except for the stain. Where is it?” she said demandingly. I took it from my frock pocket and gave it to her.
She looked at the label, and then opened it, all the while looking at me. I made a face, and she started to her work.
“My, how fiery,” Jyne commented.
While working, Dechey said, “Sorry milady.”
“I’m not,” I muttered inaudibly.
I bent down and took Jyne’s feet from her silk shoes, wishing I had a clamp for my nose. Anyone’s feet– especially the person I most despised in life– made me peevish, and a little queasy. And, no, her feet were not the most beautiful; no wonder she called on me to see to them.
“Don’t take long; it’s almost time for tea,” Jyne yawned.
By the way, she is still wearing the face cast.
Scrubbing back and forth, I found it didn’t take much anyway. I scrubbed as fast as I could, and I could feel the heat rising from her toes, from the friction.
“Ow!” she yelped, and jerked her foot.
Stain slung all over the front of Jyne.
“You’re lucky my dress is the color of raspberries, you vile pig-head.” She kicked me in the gut.
But it didn’t hurt; I was to gleeful just imagining what color would appear on her dress later.
I just hoped I wouldn’t be the one held responsible.
“Oh, enough shine already!” She waved her feet in my face.
I sunk back, utterly revolted.
“Here, Lottey, I’m done with it.” Dechey handed me the stain.
I took it and painted very careful, as not to get any on myself. Her toes were the thinnest, boniest, and longest I’d ever seen. She just needed to keep her slippers on.
“All finished, majesty.” I stood up, and quickly realized what I’d called her. “Majesty, I– your toes look so majestic now, milady.” I curtsied and scampered off.
I can never remember to wait for her consent to leave.
Servant party is tomorrow. This is the closest I’ve been to ecstatic since I stole Lady Barbageg’s ruby ring right from under her nose at the flamingo ball.
I haven’t ever finished my duties faster. I was done before sundown, which was about eight o’clock.
I helped Keelei to arrange the crackers Fredoi had made for our party: he uses flavors Lady Jyssel buys in ParKesh. There is lobster, manifruit, pumpkin nut, and even fresh air– and I’m not really sure how that is supposed to taste. Keelei and I laid the crackers on a tray bigger than both of our heads combined, though it was in the shape of an oval. Along with the crackers we laid out eggspread, which is a concoction of Ursula’s. The left over eggs (I really wish she hadn’t told me her brilliant way of making it) were boiled and mashed, and then colored a light pea green color. She flavored it with various herbs and spices, and I must say that I cannot tell that it had been on someone else’s plate previously.
That was our special dinner for the party, but we had a special drink, too. Fredoi had concocted a way to make ale out of a type of grass. The type, in fact, that grew around the mansion’s pasture. It is green, but the taste makes you forgive it. It is so splendidly sweet. And that is what we get to drink.
After arranging everything scrumptious we went and cleaned up, and tried out best to look pretty– for me it’s the first time in months and months. It was so nice. And Keelei, she felt like my friend. The kind of friend I have never had before, the kind who was being nice because she wanted to, not because she would be beaten until her brains poured out her ears; not because it was the only thing socially acceptable. We were having fun. That, too, surprisingly, is a new emotion. I thought I had had fun before, but I’m not
sure I really had.
But that was nothing compared of what to come.
“Never knew Freniar could play the fiddle.”
I would have never guessed the dark haired old man could be so good at something that wasn’t antagonizing. But he had a blue fiddle on his shoulder, and was tapping his feet. Fredoi starting singing, about as good as you could imagine could any cook. Ursula was blushing heavily as she was being danced with by a dashing Ryse, pinkies hooked and twirling around.
“Are we late?” I asked Keelei.
She shook her head and smiled. “There is no such thing as late at a servant’s party.”
Everyone looked so unbelievably happy; how could any of these people be enjoying themselves, when they knew what they had to do tomorrow? I didn’t quite understand it. But I hadn’t been around long enough to claim any knowledge of servant hood.
I couldn’t figure out what was best to do first; dance and be merry, drink and be merry, or eat and be merry. I thought, what would be the most polite?
But then I remembered.
There was no such thing as manners when you were at the bottom of the ten flights of stairs.
So… I couldn’t help it! I tore through the air to the short legged table and began stuffing my face with crackers and eggs. There was so much– and it was unimaginably good– and it had been so long since I had food that had good flavor– or any flavor. I slowed myself when I realized I wasn’t the only one at the table.
“A ravishing wolf.”
I wiped the crumbs from my chin and looked up to see Ryse laughing at me. It didn’t matter how good he looked– I didn’t like him. I couldn’t stand him. He was helpful, yes– but also infuriating and exasperating. Unfortunately I couldn’t ignore him.
“I’d think a hall boy would know the feeling,” I retorted.
He frowned.
Any face expression he made caused me to feel exposed.
“I was going to ask you to dance. But I think Clessle would be better company.”
Save yourself the rejection, I thought. Although… it had been such an awful long time since I had danced with a suitable partner– not that he was the most suitable partner I had encountered in my life. But he was closer to my age than Fredoi, who asked me to twirl. Yes, he said twirl, not dance. But I caught his drift.
Especially when the twirling started.
I spun around and around and around while Fredoi sang very loudly. His booming voice echoed off the ceiling and bounced all over the place. I began to feel the food I had eaten at an astonishing speed as I was spinning as an astonishing speed– and Fredoi lost control of me, and I fell into Ryse and Clessle, knocking them to the ground.
“Goodness, woman,” Ryse pushed me off of on top of him.
I sat for a second, still stunned.
He was the first person ever to call me woman.
I turned to help Clessle up, but Ryse was already at it. So with a huff I went and sat on a stool next to the food table and picked at a few crackers.
“Sorry to throw you, milady,” Fredoi was at my feet, kneeling. His funny accent was stronger and for a second I thought he really meant what he said. He took my hand, as if begging for forgiveness.
I never knew he could be so melodramatic.
“No fear, poor histrionic prince, I shall refrain from having you beheaded.” I leaned down to his level. “You would make a sensational theater actor.”
All of Fredoi’s facial features seemed to expand, and he jumped up. “But I am, smart girl! Have you experience?”
“No,” I alleged, “Have you?”
He bowed and nodded solemnly. “Aye, before I was whipped and taken from my home in ParKesh.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It seems as though everything in this house is ParKeshan.”
“Aye, it would seem so.”
“Not me,” Ryse seemed to pop out, out of nowhere. “But I plan on going someday.”
“Is it really all that great?” I asked distastefully.
Ryse shrugged, taking a fresh air cracker. “Never know until I find out for myself.”
All of the sudden Dechey rushed at me like a frightened antelope. “Oh, Lottey, Lottey! What did you do?”
Ryse burst out in laughter. I looked down over my clothes to make sure I hadn’t spilt grass ale all over myself. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“Lady Jyne looks as if someone smashed all over her nails with a sledgehammer! Her clothes and face cast are all splattered black!”
I gulped. Eb equals ebony. Black. Obviously. My head started spinning as if I were still dancing with Fredoi. “Is she blaming me for it?”
“No,” Dechey said, a panicky whine to her voice. “She’s blaming Ursula, for putting on the wrong label.”
I blanched. My fingers starting tingling. Should I say anything? Should I confess that I changed the labels? I couldn’t let Ursula get blamed. But I couldn’t get blamed, either! I couldn’t find the courage to speak, nor the words. I stood with numb legs that felt as if they were nailed to the floor. And the nails went all the way through my head into my feet.
“Oh…”
“Oh, yes, I know! Isn’t it horrible!” Dechey was wringing her hands, and they were turning white.
Ursula came running, huffing.
“Please don’t call me a wretch,” I pleaded softly.
“I won’t, girl, but Jyne will.” Ursula’s mouth was a taught, thin line, and her eyes looked like those of a cobra’s.
“I’ll tell her tomorrow, I promise!” I bit my lip, terrified. I did not want another strange beating.
Ursula let out an oppressed sigh. “Try to enjoy yourself tonight.”
It was hard after that. I couldn’t twirl anymore; I was afraid I’d vomit. And the food hardly even tasted good. I laughed a lot, and talked a lot, and I almost frolicked. And I did have a good time. I really did.
When I went out to write by the moonlight sometime after the party, Ryse was already there. He was flushed, and his sweaty hair had the shape of that that had been run through by fingers. I hesitated at the doorway, and that was when he heard me. I couldn’t leave though, once he saw me; it’d be terribly rude. So I took a seat some ways from him, but close enough not to be obvious. Or at least I thought.
“I don’t smell bad yet. I bathed earlier today.”
I looked at him questioningly, even though I knew what he was talking about.
And I kind of felt bad.
“I’ve been waiting a while for you. I,” he looked at me. “I… you can’t keep getting beat like this, Lottey.”
I set my book down beside me and hugged my knees. “That’s not really your concern,” I said defensively.
“Have you seen the new stable boy lately?” His eyes were serious.
I shook my head. And it was fact; I hadn’t, though I hadn’t really thought much about it.
“Lady Jyssel’s horse got colicky. It was the boys fault for not changing the water and feed.”
I shrugged. “Are you worried about them sending me away?”
Ryse sighed pensively. “Yeah– well, in a way, I guess.” He scrunched his face confusedly. “No, that’s not what I meant. Not at all. Lottey, they didn’t send him away.”
“What do you mean,” I said slowly. I didn’t really want to hear his answer.
I suppose he sensed it, and didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he nodded. “I guess it’s not really my place to worry, but… I wanted you to know that.”
“But I didn’t mean to!” I burst. “I didn’t know what color it would be, I didn’t mean to defend myself when I was being attacked– I’m not accustomed, oh, shouldn’t everyone know that?”
Oh, I despise Ryse all the more. I wish he hadn’t told me. His best wishes went sour in my head. I put my hand on my book, yearning for the sorrow-eyed Ryse would leave me be so I could write.
“Jyne told you that you’re accompanying her for a ride tomorrow, I suppose.”
The blood drained from m
y body and I struggled to stay upright. “I am deathly terrified of horses.”
Ryse smirked funny for a second, and then said, “She doesn’t ride on horses. She would never sit on a smelly animal.”
“What do you mean?” I sniffed.
“Oh, it’s a droll business. She sits on a one person carriage while I pull her behind me, and her servant girls carry a canopy over her head.”
That was relieving. “A canopy made in ParKesh?”
Ryse laughed.
“How far does she ‘ride’?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Until she gets tired. It always differs from time to time.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said, taking my book and setting on my lap. Hint hint.
He took the hint. “I suppose you’re waiting for me to leave.” He stood and waited for my response.
Oh, I tried not to be rude. But when I smiled, I couldn’t help but realize how insincere it was.
“Ah, that’s okay. Not many people want me around.” His tone was far off.
I listened as he crept into the hall and found his pallet.
Trying to make up for my curtness, I leaned in the door way and whispered, “Goodnight.”
“’Night,” I heard. Far away.
Dust flew in my face as Ryse pulled and Jyne squealed.
I will try to record these events while pretending nothing is wrong.
A little servant girl walked backwards in front of Jyne’s cart between Ryse and the wheels, fanning violently. I was so scared the whole time that she would get ran over, crushed in the wheels.
Lady Jyne has taken her face cast off. Why?
“The bloody black stuff is all over my bloody face and I look bloody horrridd!!!”
I was told that she looked as if someone had blacked her eye and sewn her face with black wire.
“But,” Dechey said, “I think everyone who sees her will vote she should’ve left it on, no matter what it looked like. Her face is worse.”
And she was definitely right. Lady Jyne’s nose was absolutely crooked. She looked as if she had been born that way. Oh, my tongue hurts so badly– had to bite it nearly all day to keep from laughing. It’s not even black and blue, so a perfect stranger wouldn’t ask, “Poor dear, whatever happened?” They would try not to stare at it during a conversation. But it would be hard.
It was hard for even me not to stare at it, carrying the ParKeshan canopy over her head.
Oh, ParKesh. I’m just about tired of hearing about the place.
“I want to go past the winding road today. Fresh air if important.”
As if she can smell it through her warped nostrils?
“Very good, milady.” Ryse huffed for breath, adjusting his grip on the cart’s handles. His face was red and sweat poured down in rivers.
I wondered aridly what the winding road was. It sounded fascinating– well, not really, but it was something to think about. I was getting anxious, not only because my arms were so sore they were numb from being straight up, but because I hadn’t told Jyne that it was I to blame. I planned on tell her, but I didn’t want to do it.
Oh, the winding road; it could be another dusty road, that swerved unusually; it could be another dusty road, but it went in winding circles; or, of course, it could be the road in front of me, that went almost straight up with no land on either side of it.
Heavens! Dread went through me. Oh, we wouldn’t live through this little jaunt. How deplorable, lamentable. And how sore my arms would be when we finally arrived back at the mansion. I shouldn’t be surprised if my arms fell off.
Ryse was slowing down.
“Keep going, boy! I told you I want to go through the winding road!” Jyne tried to kick him, but he wasn’t in her reach, and she got the little servant girl in the head, instead.
But Ryse was going. He was just tired. Jyne wasn’t an easy load, especially when we had been going for at least two hours already.
I’m just glad it wasn’t me who had to pull.
I looked at the road in front of me; in about a hundred feet it would take flight at a horrendous angle. It had nothing supporting it. It almost resembled a staircase, but made out of light brown dirt. I wanted to reassure Ryse, tell him it’s no harder than the ten flights of stairs, but I was afraid to talk; and besides, he had probably done this a million times over.
We reached the point of going up. Ryse’s muscles strained as he lifted the front wheels off the ground. Us canopy holders began walking up at an angle, and my arms felt like gelatin.
I knew I needed to tell Jyne about the label switching. And I needed to do it before I lost courage, which I had seemed to have suddenly found for some reason at that moment.
“Lady Jyne–”
“What is it?”
“I need to tell you not to punish Ursula.”
Jyne sniggered. “Just because you used to be so high and mighty doesn’t mean my servants will follow you in a revolution.”
My steps began wobbling. “No, that’s not, milady, that’s not what I meant. I mean that I switched the labels because I didn’t know better and didn’t want to get in trouble–”
“What??” her screeched busted our ears.
I thought she lunged at my neck with her teeth, but it all happened so quickly. My arms gave out and I dropped my corner of the canopy. It fell on the little servant girl who fell on Ryse who fell and then… then the cart went sailing through the air. It fell ten or fifteen feet to the ground below.
All six of us gasped.
Oh, I thought my inside were all about to become my outsides. For this klutzy movement I would be flogged until death, if I were lucky.
“I…” I felt as if I needed to explain myself. “I…” but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t feel my arms. I couldn’t even move them properly to my face when I started bawling.
And everyone just stared down over the side of the road.
We knew Jyne wasn’t dead. “Wahckahhw… you weasel-heads!! You’ve paralyzed me!!” she wasn’t very good at calling names. And she was flailing her arms around, so we knew she wasn’t paralyzed. “Boy, your pure-streak is over!!!”
My eyes shot to Ryse. He looked dead with fear. Or was it fear? I would say pride… but I don’t think servants know pride. Maybe it was a different kind of pride. Whatever it is, it looked dead and about to elope.
My stomach was panicky with guilt. “But, Jyne– it wasn’t his fault–”
“Aohhwhoh– impertinence! I am Lady to you, you, you wretch! And you can’t keep taking the blame for everyone– it’s not a good way to become popular, you know!”
One of the servant girls said to the little servant girl, “Kiki, go get someone to carry Lady Jyne home! Run!”
Kiki was… a fast runner. She didn’t do more than nod before she took off– and by the time she did that, she was out of sight.
When the help came to help Jyne, all of us servants fled. Nobody beat Kiki back to the mansion, however. I wasn’t sure what drove us: fear, competitive spirit, or fear. For me I’d say fear.
My back cringed with every move I made. And for a second I though, How can I be here??? I am Lady Sharlotte Marish Rose Devingrole!! But then I tripped and rolled a few feet into a bush. All the prickles woke me up. I shot up to my feet and saw the servant’s quarters door right in front of me. The light in the sky was fading fast, as night crept up like a venomous bug. I was irked and could hardly move correctly as I urged my limp arms to pump as I continued to run.
When I got into the hall I saw Ryse packing his things.
“Are they…” I fell colorless. Were they sending him away?
“I’m getting away before they can touch me.”
“But– but… where are you going??”
“ParKesh.”
Should’ve known. “Well what do I do? I don’t want to die any more than you do!”
He threw a satchel over his back. His eyes flashed fierce. “You can come with me.”
Oh, he was the last p
erson I wanted to be with at that moment. Fredoi would be a fine traveling companion, Ursula would be a motherly nuisance but quite acceptable, Keelei would be wonderful– “I don’t want to die!” I repeated automatically. My brain was a smudge of nothing.
“I won’t kill you.”
I humphed. “I’m afraid both ways, Ryse–”
“Hurry and choose, Lotts.”
Lotts. That was new. “Well then tell me that I have to go so I can make up my mind–”
“You have to go.”
I was dumbstruck. I was going to vamoose with a friendly enemy to a land I was sick of even though I had never been. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe– he was going to wish he hadn’t brought me–
“Go and pack.”
Obediently I ran to my curtain space and threw everything I could find into the bag I had brought from home. I felt mechanical– in total shock and on the verge of a meltdown. The only reason I had ever thought I would run away was if I wasn’t allowed to court when I wanted, and I had planned to take a footman, a servant girl, a carriage, and all the money we could carry.
This was basically the opposite.
I can hardly remember what happened next; I followed Ryse outside and into the woods, and we went as far as we could until we found the stream; we followed that until sunrise, and then we slept for a few hours; when I woke up, I wrote this.
How topsy-turvy of me, I know. I’m not sure what to think.
Will I die, or make it through this crazy whirlwind?
Part II