The next morning, as the sun peeked from its covers of the house-roof horizon, Marinette left for Mayor Bourgeois's house; another day housecleaning.
She wasn't sure, or didn't remember, why she chose to be the Bourgeois house's housemaid. She could've been working as an apprentice at a small tailor shop instead of slaving away sweeping the sides of staircases in the Bourgeois home. Maybe because if she left, her family would have less income to pay the taxes or to run the bakery? Her family business isn't poor, but it's not very popular either. Maybe it's because she was paid, if not handsomely, much higher than what she would get if she were an apprentice at a tailor's, especially if the owner was stingy.
A small basket of a bun and a piece of cheese hung from the crook of her elbow, covered with a cloth. This was her breakfast everyday, before she began work, till the dusk when it was dinnertime.
The street was clear, no crowds. It was peaceful, a single sparrow chirping in the spring air, the air still and silent; just the sound of her boots gently thumping against the cobblestone like a soft baby heartbeat.
Marinette drank in the morning, its peacefulness soothing like the expensive jasmine tea in the Bourgeois home.
Today, she thought, I'll try harder. Maybe my designs really weren't good enough.
A melody lightly leaped from her lips, as she made the long walk to the Bourgeois home.
"Marinette! Not there!" Chloe screamed as Marinette unpinned a button from the fabric.
Instead of using her designs for Chloe's dress, she decided to ask Chloe how she wanted her dress, which was another disaster. Chloe kept changing her mind. Things kept changing places, they were getting nowhere with the design.
Oh, please, do it yourself, Chloe…
"Daddy should've gotten me a real tailor! Not some cheap housemaid like you to do my dresses!" Chloe pouted, and flipped her fan shut with a "Hmph!"
Well, you don't really deserve to own the best dresses in all of Paris with that attitude…
Marinette heaved a heavy sigh, and set down the button. The hem of the fabric where the button was pinned on fell to the floor. How could this day get anymore… exhausting?!
"Chloe?"
A tall, plumpish man stood in the doorway of Chloe's bedroom – the Mayor Bourgeois.
"Daddy!" Chloe squealed and ran into her father's arms. "Daddy!"
"Yes, my dear, I heard someone screaming. Is something the- "
"Get me a real tailor, daddy! She doesn't do the dresses any good," she said accusingly, pointing a finger at Marinette's chest. The mayor seemed to be slightly thrown off, maybe a little aghast.
Oh, dear…
Mayor Bourgeois looked at Marinette, smiling pitifully. Marinette understood, he seemed to be a bit burdened by his daughter's demands.
"Marinette, why don't you help the maids clean the kitchen?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, ma'am. An honor working with you."
"Hmph."
"Chloe." Mayor Bourgeois looked at his daughter. She rolled his eyes.
Marinette made her way downstairs to the kitchen. Two maids were scrubbing the floors. Marinette tried not to trip over them, making her way outside. There was a bucket of water just outside the kitchen, on the stone steps that lead to the backyard. She took a towel from a rack nearby and plunged it into the murky water. She squeezed the towel tight, till not one drop dripped. She began to scrub the floor with the other two maids.
"Have you heard?"
Marinette thought, Gossip. Till one of the maids started poking her.
"Have you heard, Marinette?"
"Huh? Oh, me?"
"The Prince will be inviting all the ladies and lads of France to his ball two days later."
The Prince holding a ball? This sounded interesting.
"I heard one of the ladies to be invited will be Mademoiselle Chloe Bourgeois," said the other maid, rubbing her right hand. Marinette must've looked incredulous because the other maid added, "At least that's what I've heard."
Chloe? Ball?
Hah, not a chance.
But it could be, right? After all, she was a mayor's daughter.
She couldn't even be polite, say "A cup of tea, please?" or even a "Thank you" to her father. How would she act around the aristocracies?
"Oh, Chloe," sighed the first maid. "She's barely any manners. How can she be the lady of the court?"
Lady of the court?
"Wait," Marinette interrupted, "lady of the court?"
"The prince will choose his princess at the ball," continued the maid. "His future queen, it means." She shook her head. "Unbelievable if Chloe gets picked."
Marinette could not believe her ears.
Oh, lord.
The maid rubbing her hand resumed scrubbing. Till her name was called.
"Lucille! Get the door! The bell's been ringing off its post for ages!" screamed Chloe. "I need my morning tea too! Lucille!"
Lucille sighed, and walked out the kitchen without another word but a "Yes, ma'am."
"Oh, dear…" The remaining maid shook her head and sighed.
Just as Marinette was about to get up from the floor, she heard the door slam and shrieks coming from the parlor. The maid's head perked up and went to see what the noise was about from outside the kitchen. She nodded her head at Marinette, asking her to come see.
It must be the invitation…
Marinette was right. She saw Chloe clutching a light golden yellow letter in her hands.
"Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"
Chloe was hopping, bursting with excitement. Marinette and the maid could only watch, brimming with envy.
"Daddy! Daddy! I'm invited! Daddy!" She began to run to her father's study.
Marinette saw Lucille standing by the door, a bit red in the face.
"Lucille?" the maid asked, "Is everything alright?"
Lucille covered her face in her hands. "I'm just a bit… embarrassed. Milla, did you see how she slammed the door in the poor courier's face? It must've hit his nose."
Milla shook her head and wrapped her hand around Lucille. "Let's just return to our chores. We've had enough drama for one day. You too, Marinette, let's go."
But Marinette could not help but star after Chloe bouncing down the hallway.
So, it really is true…
Marinette could not help but feel the envy and heaviness sinking her heart.
