"Time to wake up, Angelina!"

Red opened her eyes only to cringe and clench them shut again as she was assaulted by annoyingly bright sunlight. With a groan, she grabbed a pillow and covered her face with it. "Come back in half an hour, Maddie," she groaned, voice muffled by the pillow. Her head ached something terrible and the sudden burst of light hadn't help it feel any better.

"I had a feeling you'd be hungover, so I brought you a bit of pickle juice."

She scrunched her nose up. "Is it the zesty stuff?"

"No, my lady. It's sweet pickle juice." The maid chuckled as she watched her mistress hold out her arm, her hand waiting for the glass. Picking up the glass, she carefully pressed it into her mistress' hand, waiting until she had a firm grip on it before letting go. "For breakfast, I've made you crepes stuffed with a salmon mousse and a poached egg atop a buttered crumpet. With it, I've prepared you some Gyokuro tea."

Sighing, Red sat up and leaned back against her headboard. "I'm sure it will be delicious," she murmured. Then, her nose scrunching up again, she took a long drink of the pickle juice; she tried to drink as much of it as she could, knowing it would help relieve the throbbing in her skull. Her face contorting into a mixture of disgust and pain as she pulled her lips from the glass, she made a dissatisfied sound. "Ugh!"

The maid came over, taking the nearly-empty glass from her only to replace it with a delicate cup of tea. "You wouldn't have to drink it if you didn't drink so much wine at those parties," she said, her voice both playful and scolding. "You know it gives you horrible hangovers."

"I had some whisky to wash it all down with, though," she replied. Though her voice sounded drab, there was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips as she glanced up at the maid. "I didn't do anything too scandalous, did I, Madelina?" she then asked, her tone more serious.

"No, you didn't." She quietly laughed as she started to pull out Red's clothes from the wardrobe. "You did, however, make a number of bawdy jokes, complimented Miss Ran Mao on her 'amazing ability to keep her cheongsam from riding up, and contributed quite a bit of juicy gossip to conversations taking place all over the party."

Red watched as Madelina stood on her tiptoes in order to properly remove a dress from the wardrobe. She couldn't help but smile; despite being the same age, Madelina was just over a foot shorter than her—standing at a whopping four-foot-five. "Maddie, dear, you know I have stool in here you're free to use."

She looked over her shoulder, pouting slightly at her mistress. "I can reach your dresses just fine, Angelina," she retorted, her tone a playful sort of whine. She then blew a raspberry at her before laying the crimson dress out over the back of a nearby chair. "Let me know when you're ready to eat, by the way."

"Perhaps in a few minutes. My stomach's currently roiling thanks to the sudden influx of pickling liquid." She took a small sip of her tea, hoping it would quell her stomach's irritation. She loved Madelina's salmon mousse-stuffed crepes and didn't want them to go to waste because of a mere hangover. "Hm. Not that corset."

Madelina paused as she was in the middle of removing a corset from a drawer. "The looser one, then?" When Red nodded, she reached down to the bottom of the drawer, where an older, more worn corset was hidden away. "You've work at the hospital today from eleven to five," she said, laying the corset out alongside a pair of stockings and undergarments. "I've already taken the liberty of packing you some lunch, tea, and a few snacks for when you get hungry."

Red perked slightly at this information. "What kind of snacks did you make?" she questioned before taking another drink of her tea.

"Cherry and almond scones, dried fruits, and a few chicken hand-pies."

At that, Red laughed. "A few snacks, Maddie? That sounds like an entire meal!"

The maid glanced up at her as she continued to get her outfit for the day ready. "I know how hungry you get on days when you're hungover, Angelina. And when you're hungry, you get cranky. The last thing your patients need is a cranky doctor." She chuckled, glancing over at her mistress. "How is your stomach feeling?"

"It's finally starting to feel better, thank you," she smiled. "And thank you for thinking ahead, Maddie. You know me so well."

"I would hope so!" she grinned. "I've only been working for you for eight years, after all. It'd be a shame if I didn't know your ways by now." She tucked a curl behind her ear and made a mental note to redo the tying of her ribbon before she did any other chores.

Red patted the edge of the bed beside her. "My, my…it's been eight years already?" She sipped her tea. "It feels like I hired you just yesterday."

Sitting down the edge of the bed, Madelina smiled, her brow somewhat raised. "And to think, you almost didn't hire me on the pure speculation of my age."

She pursed her lips in a pout. "Maddie, darling, you're the same height as my twelve-year-old nephew. If it hadn't been for those breasts of yours, I would have been convinced you were a twelve-year-old trying to pass themselves off as an accomplished chef." She then shook her head, laughing softly. "At least I no longer believe you to be a living doll." She reached over, running her fingers through the mass of maroon curls that Madelina had tied back. "Hard to believe these curls were only the length of your chin when you started working for me. But they're as soft as ever!" Pulling her hand back, she let out a small, content sigh. "I think I'm ready for my breakfast now."

"Good," Madelina chuckled, sliding off the bed. She walked over to a table in the corner of the room and lifted a tray from it. "I was hoping you would feel up to eating soon." Bringing the tray over, she set it over Red's lap. "After all, a cold poached egg isn't a very tasty one."

"Ugh, so true. But your crepes taste good at any temperature." She plucked up her fork and began eating. "Will you be going to the market today, by the way?"

"Hm. I probably should. We're getting a bit low on sugar and I'll need more vinegar for making pickles. I seem to be going through the pickling liquid quite fast of late" She glanced over at Red, a playful grin on her lips when she saw her mistress giving her a dull, half-hearted glare.

"Maddie, dear? You're so not funny." Shaking her head, she quietly laughed to herself as she took a bite of the salmon mousse-stuffed crepes.

"Then why, pray tell, are you giggling, Angelina?"

"Oh, shush you."

It turns out more than just sugar and vinegar were needed. After doing a last check through the pantry, she had discovered that she would also need flour, chocolate, and fresh fruits if she was to keep Red's supply of sweets fresh.

'I wonder if I'll be able to find any coffee beans?' she thought, making her way to the grocers with a basket in hand. 'I'd love to be able to make a tiramisu again. It's been ages…Though, in that case, I'd need some cream as well.' She then shook her head, sighing. 'Don't get ahead of yourself.'

As she walked down the street, she found herself coming across an annoyingly common problem for her: Since she was a dwarf, many people thought her to be a child at first glance. And many people didn't bother moving out of the way when walking towards a supposed child. She did her best to move out of the way in time, but more than once, she was forced to stay in the same spot thanks to the other pedestrians around her.

The last thing she wanted was to be knocked over into the road and run over by a carriage.

A sigh of relief left her mouth as she finally stepped into the grocers—a rather popular place called 'Pullman and Sons'. Though it looked to be just as busy as the streets outside, she knew it would be a bit safer to walk around; the majority of people here were women. Old biddies, young mothers, and single maids all intermingled as they exchanged gossip with one another and coin with the clerks behind the counters.

"Miss Madelina! Over here!"

Pausing in her steps, she looked over at the counter. A small smile came to her lips as she saw a young man, no more than twenty, waving at her from behind the counter. While walking over to him, her brow rose.

"Good day to you, too, Philip," she told him.

He grinned cheekily at her. "It is a good day, Miss Madelina," he told her. From beneath the counter, he produced a glass jar filled with liquid and slices of a light-orange fruit.

Madelina's eyes widened as she grabbed the jar, looking its contents over. "Are those what I think they are?" she murmured, eyes glancing up at Philip.

"Canned peaches imported straight from Georgia in the States," he declared. "We got 'em in last night and now we're damn near sold out."

"How many do you have left?" she asked, setting the jar back down on the counter. "Please tell me more than just this one jar."

He laughed. "Dad made sure to save you a total of five jars," he assured her. "After how heartbroken you looked the last time we got some in and you didn't get here in time, he made absolutely sure we set aside some for you."

She felt her cheeks grow a bit warm. "Well, I thank you for doing that," she said, a bit embarrassed. 'But if a little embarrassment means I get five jars of peaches, I'm alright with it,' she thought.

"Here, I'll take your basket," he said, leaning over the counter. "Will you be needing anything else? I know we've got some lovely dried citrus fruits in recently."

"Have you gotten any coffee beans in?" she asked. "Or some sugar or pickling vinegar? It doesn't matter if the beans have been roasted yet or not."

A thoughtful look came to his face as he placed the five jars into her basket for her. "I don't think we've any vinegar today," he admitted, "but I can check. And I'll check for the coffee beans, too. The sugar, however, I know we have. Please wait here, Miss Madelina."

Watching as Philip hurried off, she looked up at the wall of goods that stood just a few feet behind the counter. From floor to ceiling and circling the entirety of the room, the shelves were packed with all kinds of goods. Lipstick, toothpaste, rice, flour, shoe polish, nails, screws…The store had practically everything.

'Except for fresh produce,' she thought. 'I'll still have to go to the market for that. But that's fine. The jars of peaches should make it so I don't end up buying too much like normal.' She continued to look along the shelves, seeing if there was anything else she would need.

"You're mostly in luck, Miss Madelina," Philip said, returning with a few tin cans. "We've got unroasted coffee beans and sugar." He set the tins on the counter for her to look over. "But, just as I thought, we're out of pickling vinegar."

"That's quite alright. I don't need it urgently." She read the labels on the tins of coffee beans, scrutinizing their information. Then, setting down the larger of the two, she put the smaller one in her basket. The third tin, which contained the sugar, she added in—it was her favorite brand, so she knew she didn't need to check it. "Well, I think this should be everything."

Philip nodded. "Alright. So, let's see…" He started calculating the total price of the goods, mumbling the numbers to himself. "Oh, ten pence should do it, Miss Madelina."

Her brow rose. "That seems a bit cheap, don't you think? Surely the peaches would up the price to be a shilling or two?"

"You would think," he replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "But ten pence is what the math tells me, so ten pence it is."

Madelina, however, didn't seem convinced. "Philip…"

He pouted. "What? Do I need to get dad over here to prove me right?" He nodded down the counter to where his father was helping two different women at once.

Not wanting to bother the elder Pullman, she begrudgingly handed over the ten pence. "No, he's busy enough as is," she sighed, "but I still say you're undercharging me."

"Even if I am, I know it doesn't matter," he chuckled, taking the coins from her. "Miss Madelina, you're one of our best customers. We know you'll be back and spend three times as much another time. Now, I hope you have a nice rest of your day, Miss Madelina."

"You, too, Philip."

Making her way out of the grocers', Madelina brushed a stray curl out of her face as she walked down the street. 'Now to the market to get some fresh produce.' Once more, she was cautious as she walked, though the crowds soon started to thin out. 'It is nearing tea time, after all.'

But that was luxury a meal reserved mostly for upper-middle and high-class society; everyone else would have to settle for continuing their work day.

Passing by a large building set back a few meters from the street, Madelina paused to look up at it. It was the Royal London Hospital—one of many in the city. Inside those walls, Angelina and other medical professionals were treating the sick and performing surgeries.

'I hope she's doing well,' she thought, finally pulling her gaze away and continuing her walk. 'There have been so many abortions lately…every time she's had to perform one, she comes home a sobbing wreck. The poor thing…such slaps in the face for her.' A heavy sigh left her mouth as she remembered seeing Red in the hospital after the carriage accident that had claimed the life of her husband and unborn child. 'She had been so excited...'

Then, shaking her head, she did her best to push the thoughts from her mind. She knew all too well that it wouldn't do her any good to dwell on the past. There would never be a way she could change how things happened in the world—though, it didn't stop her from wishing there was a way.

'If I could change the past, then I wouldn't be here.'

Madelina awoke to the sound of rain on the window. Rising from her bed, she stretched and yawned as she made her way over to her dresser. Just as she did every morning, she did her best to tame her mass of maroon curls before tying them back with a ribbon. Grabbing her corset, she fastened it around her midsection before loosely tying it—she hated wearing the thing, but it was a required part of her uniform.

'I wonder if Angelina ever came back last night?' she thought, pulling on her stockings, 'or if she stayed the night as some handsome man's house? Or perhaps I'll find her passed out on the sofa again after a night of unexpected party-going?' She clipped her garters into place on the top of her stockings before fastening a leather flask holster around her upper thigh. Pulling the flask from it, she unscrewed the lid and took a swig of its contents.

Or, at least, she tried to take a swig.

"Hm. Time to finally refill you, I guess." She screwed the cap back on and set the flask on her dresser before she finished getting dressed. After making sure her uniform was all in order, she grabbed the flask once more, tucking it away in the pocket of her apron. Finally, she left her room.

Making her way down the hall, she lifted a brow. On the floor, leading from the top of the stairs and down to Red's room, was a trail of clothes. As she drew closer, she found that the clothes were soaking wet. Half of them were Red's, but the other half?

"So she brought home a man," Madelina murmured to herself. "That's a first." Shaking her head, she proceeded to pick up the sopping garments. She carried them down to the kitchen, where she wrung them out over a bucket before draping them over the backs of chairs so that, once she got the fire lit, they could start drying out.

Within an hour, she had the fires lit and the house ready for the day. A half hour after that, she was carrying a tray of food and tea upstairs for Red and her evening guest: Maple-pecan griddlecakes, diced fruit salad, toast with whipped butter, and a lightly sweetened mint tea. Before going to Red's room, however, she stopped by one of the guest rooms and fetched one of the spare nightshirts so that the man wouldn't have to walk around in the nude until his clothes were dry.

She was thankful when she found the door to Red's bedroom hadn't been properly shut, leaving her able to open it with a small push from her foot. Just as she did every morning, she set the tray of food on the small table—this time, though, she also set the nightshirt on the table—before going to throw open the curtains.

"Time to wake up, Angelina and guest," she chirped, filling the room with the grey, but bright, light of the morning sun. Tying the first set of curtains back, she moved to open the second set. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as the two figures shifted under the blankets, two sets of protesting groans coming from beneath them.

Bleary-eyed and messy-haired, Angelina pushed herself upright. "Maddie?" she mumbled, either not realizing or not caring that her bare chest was exposed. "What time is it?"

"Half past seven," she replied, fetching a robe from her dresser. She brought it over to Red, wrapping it around the woman. "I don't know what time you got back in last night, but I've got your clothes and your guest's clothes drying in the kitchen."

"Guest?" Her eyes then widened and she suddenly grabbed the blankets next to her, yanking them back only to reveal the nude backside of a tall, lean man with long, crimson hair. He promptly yelped and tried to bring the covers back over him. "Ah. Yes. I had almost forgotten about Grell."

The person rolled over and sat up, pouting as they clutched the sheet to their body. "You almost forgot about me!? How could you ever forget me after such a wonderful ni—" Their eyes fell on Madelina, their cheeks turning a bit red. "Oooh! Such gorgeous hair!" they gasped. They looked over at Red, a wide grin on their lips. "I don't think I've ever seen a maid with such wonderfully dark red, fluffy hair!"

Madelina's brow rose. "Thank you," she said, though it was obvious she was unsure if the compliment was flattering or unnerving. Returning to the table, she grabbed a nightshirt and brought it over to them. "Here. Your clothes are drying downstairs, so I thought you would like to have something to cover you up."

"What, and hide that cute arse of theirs?" Red grinned. "Maddie, you'd be doing us a disservice by having them cover up!"

Grell wiggled their finger. "As pretty as your little maid is, my cute arse is only for a select few to see," they playfully scolded.

"Ah, pardon?" Madelina said, feeling rather awkward thanks to the flirtations between Red and Grell, "but why do you keep calling him 'them', Angelina?" Something didn't seem quite right about this person—Red wasn't the type of woman to bring home a man and bed him. In fact, she wasn't the type to bed a man she wasn't married to at all! Teasing and flirting was more her style.

So, how did this Grell manage to woo her mistress?

"Grell is neither male nor female," she explained.

Grell flopped back against the pillows, letting out a theatrical sigh as they draped an arm over their face. "I may have been born in the body of a hopelessly beautiful man, but my heart and mind cannot decide if they wish to be those of a woman or those of a man." They peeked out from beneath his arm, as if expecting the maid to gush her pities to them.

Madelina nodded slowly in understanding. "I see," she murmured. "Well, I apologize if I've offended you."

"You didn't know, dear, so no worries," Grell told her, dismissively waving their hand at her. "But what is that delicious smell wafting over here? Surely not your perfume, Angelina." Sitting upright again, they pulled the nightshirt on, having to stand up in order to get it to cover their lower half.

"That would be breakfast," Red laughed, her brow rising. "What did you make, Maddie? Because Grell's right—it smells yummy! Not that any other meal you make doesn't smell yummy; this one just smells especially so."

Madelina quietly laughed, lifting the tray of food from the table. "I've made you maple-pecan griddlecakes with a diced fruit salad. There's also toast with whipped butter and, for tea, a lightly sweetened mint tea." She leaned over Red, placing the tray between the two of them.

Grell's eyed widened in surprise as they beheld the spread of food on the tray. "Do you eat like this every day, Angelina?" they asked. "Because this looks amazing!"

"Of course I eat like this every day," Red laughed, looking more than a little chuffed. "Madelina is the best cook in the whole of Britain—possibly even the world! She always makes sure only the most scrumptious of meals graces my palate."

"I'm not that good of a cook, Angelina," Madelina countered. "I just have a lot of experience in the kitchen and I know your tastes well. Though, clearly your tastes in partners has changed over the years…" She watched as Grell grabbed one of the plates of griddlecakes as well as a fork. They greedily cut themselves a bite of the food before shoving it into their mouth.

"Ah, yes, I'll admit that Grell is a rather unorthodox choice," Red chuckled, "but we mesh so well, don't you think? You wouldn't believe how much the two of us have in common!" She took up the other plate, throwing Madelina a small wink. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Grell interrupted with a loud, almost inappropriate sound of pleasure.

"These are DELICIOUS!" they exclaimed, staring down at the griddlecakes. "I've had such delights before, but they never ever tasted this good!" They quickly shoved another bite into their mouth, chewing it happily.

Madelina's brow rose, surprised by their reaction—to her, it was just every day breakfast food she had served. "I'm glad you enjoy it," she told them. "I make griddlecakes for Angelina every Saturday morning."

Red frowned. "It is Saturday, isn't it?" She let out a small sigh. "This week certainly got away from me…"

"Such things happen," Madelina chuckled. "Is there anything I can get either of you?" she then asked.

Looking up, Grell smiled sheepishly. "Actually, yes. Can you tell me where the privy is?" they asked.

"Down the hall, third door on the right," Red answered for her. She watched as Grell practically threw themselves out of the bed and hurried out of the room. A soft laugh left her mouth. "What do you think of them, Maddie?"

"I don't think I know them well enough to form a real opinion yet, Angelina," she replied. "How long have you known them? I don't recall you mentioning them before."

She chewed a mouthful of fruit before answering. "A few months ago, actually. We've met up a few times since then, but last night was the first time we…well, the first time we became intimate."

Madelina shrugged. "I suppose if you trust them enough to be intimate with them, they mustn't be a bad person, then." She gave her mistress a warm smile. "Gods only know it's about time you found someone you trust that much again."

Red smiled. "Yes…yes, it has been quite a while, hasn't it…?" she murmured. "Would you be alright with them staying over for a while?"

"Angelina, this is your house," she reminded her. "If you want to let them stay, then that's your choice. I'm just your chef-slash-maid. My opinion shouldn't matter."

"Maddie, you're far more than just my chef-slash-maid. You've been by my side since you were first hired and you were at my side during every tragedy and every celebration that happened over the last eight years." She took a sip of her tea before sighing quietly. "You're one of my dearest friends—I consider you to be family at this point. Your opinion matters greatly to me."

Reaching over, Madelina flattened some cowlicks in Red's hair. "Admittedly, I find them a bit strange, but as I said, I don't know them well enough to have a real opinion of them. So I trust your judgement on this, Angelina. If you'd like for them to stay over for a while, then so be it. I will tend to them just as I would any other guest." Despite her words, there was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I should probably go check on your clothing. We want it dry, not burnt to a crisp."

Red nodded in understanding. "Of course, dear. Thank you for being so understanding and for such a delicious breakfast." Reaching over, she grabbed Madelina's arm and pulled her into a hug. "They shouldn't be too much of a bother—hopefully, they'll be quite the opposite. They're a method actor, you see, and they have a role coming up where they play a butler."

"Ah, an actor," she chuckled. "That makes more sense now. Being a method actor, I take it they'll be trying their hand at being your butler for the duration of their stay?"

"Exactly." She smiled brightly, releasing Madelina from the hug. "Well, I shouldn't keep you away from those clothes any longer. I'll be seeing you soon enough, anyway." She smiled and made a shooing motion with her hands.

Rolling her eyes, Madelina chuckled as she left the room. She passed by Grell as they were leaving the bathroom; she offered them a polite smile before turning left and heading down the stairs.

'I don't know why, but I get such a strange feeling from them,' she thought, brushing a curl from her face. 'I could just be overreacting and being overprotective, though. This is the first time Angelina's had a lover since the carriage accident…but the fact that they're an actor doesn't sit well, either. What if they're just acting and trying to worm their way into Angelina's favor in order to get at her pocketbooks?'

She sighed and shook her head as she entered the kitchen. 'Only time will tell.' Grabbing the poppy-red skirt of Red's abandoned dress, she turned it around so that it dried evenly. 'And I hope it tells me that I'm simply being overprotective…'