The clouds that were once only hovering in the sky, released their burden of water, and gave rain. It was rather strong, much stronger than the night before. In a short while there were puddles of water and mud. The leaves of the trees were showered and swaying with the wind. The dark sky was a captivator of all that was under it. Although the windows were closed, small gushes of cold air entered the manor. I was lucky to be back in the manor before it rained.

I was sitting in the window seat of my room when I spotted the carriage of my stepfamily nearing our manor. It was swiftly coming to the manor, and I could almost hear the wheels screaming mercy. Perhaps Lacrecia wanted to arrive quickly so then the wheels of the carriage wouldn't be stuck in the mud. When they arrived, I could hear orders and frantic footsteps.

But I was not bothered; I wouldn't care less. How could I explain it? It was like flying without care. I was not in this world but in my own mind, happy and content, euphoric and serene. I was slowly reliving my memories, one by one, each with painstaking detail.

"Alva!" Rosamund called from the doorway of my room. "Mistress Lacrecia wishes you to be downstairs, immediately." She fidgeted with her skirt. "I think you should go quickly, Alva. Mistress Lacrecia is quite red in the face, if I do say so myself."

Despite Rosamund's attempt to mollify the growing apprehension, I frowned slightly. What did she need me for? But then, Lacrecia was the only one who could ruin my happiness. I stood up and followed her. She motioned me to the solarium, and when I entered, I was immediately under the eyes of Lacrecia and Caroline. Edith was in one corner, worry creasing her features.

"What is it?" I asked.

My stepfamily was the picture of imprisoned emotions. Lacrecia was calm and yet the silence was foreboded her fury that was slowly eating her up inside. She was sitting in one of the armchairs, her hands clutching the armrests as if wanting to tear it off. Her lips were pressed into a thin straight lineCaroline was shaking with anger. She was standing next to the armchair. Her arms were crossed, but I could see that her hands were clutching on her arms tightly. She was silent, and I could feel her growing animosity for me. Her breathing was noisy, and each intake and outtake of breath was distinctly heard. She was biting her lip and her cheeks were flushed. Edith was almost nonexistent. She was seated in the farthest oak chair. I could see her apprehensive gaze. When she realized I was looking at her, she turned her gaze away and focused on the painting of the lady. The whole room seemed to be occupied by lifelessness.

"We came to the castle, am I right?" Lacrecia finally spoke.

I nodded. "Yes. To see their Highnesses."

My stepmother stood up. "I happened to have the opportunity to speak with Queen Emmaline. Actually, she insisted that we accompany her. Do you know why she said so?"

I knew what she was talking about… I shook my head. "How am I to know what she said? I was—"

"Shut up, Alva." Caroline covered the distance between us within three strides. "She said, 'I am so happy that my son finally found his match.' And I, of course, as elated thinking it was me. I said to the queen that I would be more than happy to be her daughter-in-law." She stopped talking and her face became twisted with anger.

Lacrecia continued for Caroline. "Her Ladyship fortunately thought it was a delightful joke, or else Caroline would be thoroughly shamed. She then laughed and said, 'How sweet of you! We will not be in-laws, but we would be relatively close, considering your sister would be my daughter-in-law.' She had the grace to clarify, and I quote, 'Alva of Rista would be my daughter-in-law.'"

If I wanted for them not to know, I should act as if even I didn't know. "I don't know what she is talking a—"

"And I didn't know too!" Caroline shrilled. "My heart was pierced with the spear of pain when her Majesty was kind enough to explain that her son apparently dotes on you. More than that. He claims to her that he loves you. Now tell me how this happened." Her voice was a hiss and her eyes were that of a snake's—slit and malevolent.

"I don't know what you are talking about," I managed to reply. "I've only met Prince Eric during the masques."

Caroline's anger rose. "And the first one you danced with him for a whole lot of times and the second one he offered you a mantle just to dry you off! And did it ever occur to your petty mind that he actually rescued you from possible death?"

I sighed. "Eric just happened to be there when I was rained on and pursued for. What do you expect him to do? Watch me shiver and eventually develop an illness? Or maybe just sit back and watch the spectacle of a girl being chased? It was his obligation to rescue me, and personal feelings are not the only reasons to motivate a rescue," I snapped. "And I believe that he only danced with me because I was the only one with the feet he could step on!"

Lacrecia seemed amused with my answer. "Dear Alva, you have unwittingly given yourself away by calling Prince Eric with his first name, and no title."

I raised an eyebrow. "What does it matter anyway? All of you are acutely aware of the fact that I couldn't well remember all the protocol I would have to memorize."

"We know about your boorish manner and nebulous memory, already. And that is no excuse. Tell us now, Alva, whatever you need to say." I shook my head. "Well, then maybe you need more encouragement. We were informed that Prince Eric had come to Rista—here—today. And according to Cathy, one of our maids, you went out right after we left." She looked at me squarely. "Where did you go?"

"Out."

My impudence struck the last point in Lacrecia's patience. Her hand was suddenly raised and I was struck on my left cheek. I stared at her for a long time and I couldn't comprehend what just happened. It was inevitable, of course. I knew that Lacrecia disliked me but I never thought she would do something like that.

"You will tell me where you went if you want your face to look presentable," she said, voice dripping with pleasure and menace.

"Stop it, Mama!" Edith screamed from her corner. "She hasn't done anything wrong!"

Lacrecia turned her eyes to Edith, who was actually standing up for me. "Daughter, I will not tolerate your behavior towards your own mother."

"And I cannot tolerate your mistreatment to Alva, who is my stepsister and your stepdaughter," Edith said firmly.

My stepmother laughed incredulously. "What is so special about this wench that would make you speak and stand up for her? You have silenced yourself in your own world, surely you have observed much. You should know that this girl was never a daughter to me, even a stepdaughter." At the end of this sentence, Caroline's eyes swept up to me. She was smiling, probably triumphant on my shock that I was never a daughter. But I never did feel like Lacrecia's daughter. And if I didn't feel like I was her daughter, then Lacrecia didn't feel like she was my mother.

Lacrecia was not finished with Edith. "You are deaf, mute, and unfeeling to all your surroundings. I wouldn't be surprised if you died and I wouldn't have a clue. The only thing that made me tolerate you is that that Lord Rafael wanted you as a wife, but he still hasn't presented his suit." She turned away, ending with the words: "You are never a daughter to me, so be silent."

Edith stared at her in horror. Tears slowly went down from her eyes. The pain must be unbearable, to have your mother call you all those terrible words. She ran out of the room, sobbing. I almost wanted to run after her but Lacrecia turned to me so swiftly, that I was suddenly frozen. I was ashamed to admit this but, yes, I was afraid.

It had struck me that Lacrecia was insane at that precise moment. How could anyone feeling the extent of her rage appear so calm in the exterior? How could she betray her emotions with just a move of her hand? She wanted to beat me, and that was unacceptable. She was unloving to her own daughter. A manic gleam was present in her eyes as she glowered over me. She was a sadist…she wanted me dead… all these thoughts crossed my mind as I tried to find a way out of this trouble.

I couldn't find any other way, so I told her the truth. "I went to the river, where I usually go. You know about my going there, so why make such a fuss about it?"

I realized that there were small tears falling from my eyes. It was not because Lacrecia hurt me in more ways than one; it was because no one in the world had ever tried to do this to me before. The shock in my mind was as disconcerting as the pain in my cheek when her hand met it. Mother had never even tried to raise her hand against me despite my constant tests of her patience. This thought never crossed Father's mind—especially Father's mind.

Unfortunately, everybody else in the room seemed to think that I was crying because Lacrecia did more than hurt me in the cheek.

"What did you do there?" Lacrecia was nonplussed with coming tears. Caroline was jovial.

"I was reading," I replied slowly and angrily.

She walked closer to me, threateningly. "You are not telling the truth."

With that one step, I almost wanted to flee, to leave behind whatever courage or dignity I had ever pretended to hold. But how could I desert myself, and surrender to my fear rather than hold on to the fuse of anger and humiliation slowly growing in me. I have lost Mother, then Father. Then I was refused the right to be acknowledged as a daughter of a lord. I lived helpless under her unwavering gaze of pure loathing. I hid from her whenever I could. I even tried to hide Eric's love for me because of her. How could I walk away with the knowledge that I had willingly surrendered to her…Alva?

"Tell me." And she moved her hand, striking me on my face.

"What truth do you want? What is truth when you refuse to believe it?" I screamed at her, holding my stinging cheek to my palm. "You've taken everything that I have had. I have nothing left to give you!"

"You have the truth, and that is not nothing." Lacrecia replied in a false honeyed voice.

I eyed her furiously. "Well there is no truth that you don't know!"

"Stop crying, wench or else you will wish you never had eyes," Lacrecia threatened.

What was I doing? If I loved him so much, why couldn't I show it? Why couldn't I at least defy Lacrecia for one more moment just for him? I shouldn't be so scared of her. I should be scared of our love. I realized what I was doing was wrong. I shouldn't keep all these emotions struggling underneath my skin to get out.

"You know what the truth is," I retorted. "What do you need me for to tell you?"

Caroline's jaw dropped. "No! It can't be! Mama, tell her that she is wrong!"

"Shut up, Caroline! You and I know all too well it is true so there is no use denying!" Lacrecia snapped. Caroline quieted down. She turned to me. "Tell me Alva."

I laughed. "Are you deaf or are you just stupid? You know, I know, Caroline knows, Edith knows, the Queen knows. What do you need me for!"

"I just need to hear it from your own mouth, girl. Now speak before my patience wavers again."

I stood much taller than I have ever felt before. I felt a surge of hate for Lacrecia and Caroline. I hated Caroline for treating me like a common maid, and I hated Lacrecia for her indifference, which was supposed to be a mother's love. "The truth? The truth is that I love him and he loves me too!"

I wasn't finish with them. "Lacrecia! Since you want to know more truth then I'll tell more! Caroline, you are fool who has no use in the world! You show to the world that you are the perfect being with your sparkling eyes and sweet disposition! But in truth you are but a worm wriggling under the scrutiny of everybody! Once you are at home, you are a hag with edicts and commands that are downright unreasonable! And when you are no longer the perfect lady, you are lost in yourself. You don't know who you are!"

Caroline was weeping, partly in rage that I have taken what she thought was granted to her. Lacrecia was still scowling at me. Her eyebrows were raised and her mouth was pressed into a thin hard line.

"Have you no shame? Acting as the person you are not for the sake of public approval!" I spat. "Grow up you chameleonic harlot and maybe you'll see that the whole of Tryla is in disgust with you existence! And you Lacrecia, putting up with her stupidity just so you can elevate your current state! The two of you are lowest people I have ever encountered!"

My stepsister was wailing now. My words had struck her in immense measures. Lacrecia was red in the face. I realized that throughout my philippic, she had not spoken or interrupted. Although her silence was passive, her gaze was like a raptor's.

"Now that this drama is finished," Lacrecia called for Rosamund, "follow Rosamund to your new room."

I didn't move. "You don't mean—"

"Yes, I do mean," Lacrecia snapped.

"I have every right to stay in the position I am in," I replied.

"No, you don't. You see Alva, I am the mistress of this manor, and as mistress everybody lives under my hand. You've been a burden to me for a long time now, Alva. It's about time you repaid me."

"Burden?" I replied incredulously. "I have been in this manor longer than you are. I have lived here for sixteen years while you and your despicable daughter stayed here for only a year!"

"That doesn't change the fact that I am mistress," Lacrecia said hardly.

I could only stare at her. I must have been too angry to even react because the next thing I knew, I was in a servant's room. It was a small square room with only a bed, a cabinet, and a small vanity as furniture. There were shelves nailed to the wall and were ready to come off. There were even no windows. But I knew that even the servants of this manor didn't live in these poor conditions. I looked around and realized that this room was actually once a closet. It was small, with shelves, and no windows at all. Lacrecia prepared this especially for me.

I sat on the thin mattress that I would sleep on and thought of ways to get away from this misery. Running away was an option. My grandaunt from my father's side eloped with a forbidden lover. She got away with it and was never found.

I resolved to run away the next day. I knew I would have to stay in the manor first before actually leaving. Lacrecia knew how to expect things. Somehow, I should have to make her trust. She should be confident that I wouldn't run away. When she was already, I would do so.

When I opened the closet, it was almost empty. The only things inside were garments that looked more like rags than clothes. Lacrecia had taken away my rights and now she had taken away my clothes.

Tears started to fall from my eyes. This day started out as the most joyful day I could ever have, yet now it was a nightmare. I lied down on my bed and cried on. If I had some way to reach Eric, then I knew he would help me get out of this. He would be enraged, actually. He couldn't even get Lacrecia and Caroline's nonchalance to my plight out of his head. What more of this?

I haven't said to Eric how much I loved him, and I had to get out of this just so I could tell him.

But the next day, I realized that I couldn't run away, let alone tell anybody who could help me from my plight.

"You will be a scullery maid, nothing more, nothing less. You tend to the fire, help all the other maids, and do other chores for us. Be reminded that you are forbidden to go outside unless it is really drastic, like a house fire," Lacrecia said to me. "And I expect you to be in bed by nine. Don't even try to escape. I've made sure your door will be barred by that time."

It was still early in the morning. Caroline must still be sleeping while Edith must be embroidering in her room. Lacrecia wanted to speak with me personally.

I was wearing one of the rags in the closet. My fists were constantly clenching and unclenching. I was thinking that maybe I should just get a knife and stab Lacrecia in the heart. But of course I couldn't result to that murderous state.

"I see you wore your servant's garb. That's a first good sign of subordination." She paused. "What else?" she frowned. "I realized that your name is much too noble for one as low as you."

My eyes widened. "What do you mean?" I hissed.

"You shall not speak to me in that tone, Girl. Yes, that's much better than Alva."

"What makes you think that you can even address me in that way? My name is Alva not Girl. You could make me a maid, fine, but you can't take away what is already mine."

Lacrecia sneered. "The rules have changed in this game of life. I am not only your mistress in this manor, but the mistress in your being. I tell you everything you do, and if I tell you not to breathe, you will follow." Before I could protest, she said, "I told you not to speak to me as if I'm not your mistress. Because of your ill manners you will not have breakfast." I wanted to laugh. I already took my breakfast in the servants' wing. But I didn't say anything unless she withdrew my lunch also.

"And don't think of going to your dear beloved Barbara. I've dismissed her. She is far too old for the labors of this manor," Lacrecia told me with triumph.

I looked down, shaking with fury. She had left me bereft with nothing and no one. I didn't have food, money, gowns, or whatever luxury I once had. And now, I didn't even have a name. I knew I had the pity of the maids and Edith, but it would not liberate me since they were all afraid of Lacrecia.

I straightened up, not wanting Lacrecia to see me weak and wounded, which I was. "Yes, Madame Lacrecia," I said in a monotonous voice.

She smiled gleefully. "And also, I will take care of their Majesties. They will not notice your disappearance. Nor will anybody."

I once thought that Lacrecia would never give me this kind of courtesy because she was afraid for her reputation. But now, I saw that she would go out of her way to get make me suffer. Oh no, getting rid of me was not enough for her. She wanted to see me wiggle like a worm on a hook. She wanted to imprison me in my own home, and see to it that every minute of it would be filled with misery.

I didn't know what Lacrecia had in her sinister mind. I didn't know what torments she would subject me to.

She sent me away to the kitchen to clean the fireplaces with lye. I was not against cleaning because I was not ignorant to chores. It was the lye that remained in my mind. Lye was a corrosive substance used to make soap. But when it was used for soap, it was first neutralized with other ingredients to prevent skin irritation. Lacrecia wanted me to use lye as a raw substance.

When I soaked my hands on the lye, I immediately felt the stinging pain. I bit back my tears and started scrubbing the fireplace. It was the dirtiest thing I have ever seen. And though I scrubbed as hard as I could ever have, there was still that amount of dirt not willing to go away. In a matter of time, my hands were red, burning, bruised, and even bleeding a little in some places. I stopped scrubbing after awhile because my attempts were futile. The fireplace was considerably cleaner than before yet there were ashes and dust that refused to be cleaned up.

I looked at my hands. They were dry and numb from the pain. My hands were screaming pain with the red welts and blisters. I knew this was only the beginning.

After the fireplace ordeal, I went to the scullery. My stepfamily had already finished eating breakfast and without a doubt I knew there would be dishes to wash.

Rosamund was in the scullery. She was chopping some vegetables for lunch, I supposed. We were friends, yet not so close. I treated all the maids properly and fairly. Actually, I issued few orders from them. Unlike Lacrecia and Caroline, I was not a tyrant. I earned the respect of the maids because of this. They respected me because I preferred to do things that I could do on my on. I never demanded any help for something as simple as fetching paper from the study.

I saw the dishes piled near the sink. I proceeded to it and started rinsing it. I noticed Rosamund stare at me.

"Why do you keep doing this? Why don't you run away?" she demanded.

"I can't," I replied. "If I can, then I will. But I can't."

She was started to vigorously chop the vegetables. "Well, it's not right; the way Mistress Lacrecia treats you!" Her eyes flashed anger. "I thought that she treated me wrong, along with the other servants. But she treats you worse."

I eyed her. Her clothes were more decent than mine. Her hands were not bruised and wounded. "It's not like I could do anything about it. She would treat me worse if I rebel."

"But what made her do this? When Lord Martin died, she could easily do this." She didn't know the circumstance. How could I tell her?

She treats me this way because I love the prince and he loves me too. "I don't know," I replied.

Rosamund huffed. "Well, I have a feeling that she's just jealous of you. You are a mile prettier than that Caroline, Lady Alva, and she's just scared you will know."

"It's not about vanity, Rosamund."

"It is. She knows you could easily outshine Caroline, but you just don't. Why? If I were as lovely as you, I would flaunt it. If I were as smart as you are then I would flaunt it too. You are even a fine dancer. And if I were, then I would dance all day. But you don't!"

"Are you exasperated by me?" I sighed. "I didn't think it was essential to do so."

Rosamund dropped the knife. "You can't expect me and Cathy to watch you be like this, Lady Alva. We know that you have every right to be the mistress of this manor just as Lacrecia has."

But she was wrong. Lacrecia was the legal wife of my father for a year. She had every right, more rights than me. If I could just find proof that I should own part of my father's lands, then I would get out of here. Yet there was no proof, only assumption.