Suffering and torment was the name of Lacrecia and Caroline's game. It had already been a week and half, and I surprised myself by only realizing now that I could no longer take the affliction given to me. No matter how hard I tried to please Lacrecia and Caroline, their hate and courtesy towards me remained untouched. They still hated me. I knew I had to run away. I knew I had to live. But I wasn't given the opportunity until that eventful day I had to choose between two things.

Caroline returned home not fuming from the castle. She was actually euphoric. She seemed to be among the clouds with heavenly bliss. She kept on smiling on everyone, shockingly including me.

In the solarium, while I was changing the water in the vases, I swore I heard her sing to herself as she strolled along the hallway.

When we passed by each other a while later, she looked at me from head to toe, a smile playing on her lips as she took in the rags that I wore and the bucket full of water I was carrying. Then, without a single tinge of dripping malice but with actual sincerity, almost a pitying tone, she said, "You aren't as beautiful as you think you are."

It was hardly a compliment, but it was still unexpected considering that she was oblivious to my existence ever since the last time we spoke. And the last words I heard from her were curses.

What was the matter with her?

"I think someone granted her the soul she badly needs. Goodness, she is more beautiful if she weren't scowling all the time. Maybe someone told her that," Rosamund said when I told her what happened.

Cathy laughed. "I don't think she is capable of having a soul. She is very young and too much like Madame. Her body is too spoiled to house a soul. I think she has finally been given a new home—away from Rista. Which I say is a good thing, so we must all smile as well."

"Hmm…a manor of smile. Interesting," I added with a smile.

All the servants wondered what the matter was until Lacrecia called us all on an assembly later that day.

She looked positively elated. Yet she scowled when she saw me.

"Tomorrow we shall have a very important guest," she began. She gestured at our surroundings. "This place is filthy. By tomorrow morning I want it sparkling and more than presentable."

All of us resisted to urge to look at each other. Filthy?Lacrecia demanded that the house be cleaned thoroughly every single day, no matter how much the upkeep cost the manor. And now it was all for naught because apparently, the house was filthy.

She turned to me. "I want you to wash all the porcelain dishes from Yintiao." I looked at her blankly. Was she serious? "I don't care whether the dishes are already stale in the cupboards. I don't care whether they are twenty all in all. I want you to wash it. And I better see my reflection on those dishes by tomorrow."

I suppressed the urge to laugh. She thought it was torture for me! But washing dishes was simple, and it didn't matter if there were twenty or so dishes. At least, I was away from her in the kitchen.

"I doubt she would see herself anyway," Cathy whispered to me. "After all, her face is as white and pasty as the ancient porcelain itself." I stifled a laugh.

She ordered the curtains changed, the furniture dusted, the candles in the candlesticks renewed, the floors to be shiny, the chairs to be comfortable, and everything else had to look like it was brand new.

I was beginning to feel vexed with this guest. If this person demanded such greatness from Lacrecia then that person was certainly important.

Lacrecia stopped me before I could go to wash all the dishes.

"Tomorrow, I want you to stay in your room for the rest of the day."

I didn't say anything. Why wasn't I surprised?

My docility pleased her. "Good Girl." When she said those two words, I tried not to feel like a pet. But indeed, I felt like one. I felt like a dog that was trained for tricks. I was now being trained to be someone I was not. "Girl, I am very glad that you are now acting more…in your place."

She made me feel worse by patting my head. She grinned spitefully and left me.

I clenched my fists when she left. My clenching was so hard that my nails were gnawing at my flesh. Lacrecia's disposition gave me the habit of clenching my fists to calm me down. Pretty soon, it might not work and I would have to use it to punch Lacrecia.

Which would lead to inevitable death.

The rest of the day was devoted to washing dishes so ancient that—unbelievably—some sort of grime had clung to it. Despite my hatred for Lacrecia, it was a good thing she had ordered me to clean the neglected dishes. Had they been ignored any further, it would have been ruined completely. She didn't realize it, but Lacrecia actually saved the dishes with her nonsense orders. Once I was able to laboriously scrub out the grime of one plate, I admired it for a time, for Yintiao porcelain was truly priceless. Every piece was painted by hand, and every piece was unique. It was also priceless to me. Father was a collector of souvenirs from other places. This was only one of the mementoes he had acquired through his travels.

After about three hours, my hands were already pruned and wrinkled by washing. But the dishes were already finished, leaving me with nothing else to do. I didn't want to go to Lacrecia for new orders; let her believe I was tortured by the dishwashing. Which, come to think of it, was not exactly a feat of despair. Well, Lacrecia probably thought it was, considering dishwashing was a mystery to her.

I admired the plates one by one, marveling at the story each plate offered. In my mind, there were a million stories, spun by these plates. And I wondered why my story was not as beautiful.

"All this work for one person!" I heard Cathy grumble as she entered the room. She was carrying a basketful of cloth for furniture. "Goodness! Madame Lacrecia expects these to be washed and dried by tomorrow morning! Now where in the world will I get some sunlight at this time of the day?"

I took the basket from Cathy, who was about to throw it to the floor in exasperation. Inside, there was a heap of lace doilies, tablecloths, and runners. It very beautiful to look at, and I knew because I had looked at these lace creations adorning many of the rooms in the house. As were the Yintao plates, it was Father who took the lace home; this time it was in Melia, in Rista. The lace was white in color, and pristine, despite its use.

"Why should Lacrecia have it cleaned? It's perfect!" I told Cathy.

Cathy shook her head. "That was what I said to Madame, but she said she could see tiny little specks of dirt if she looks closely."

"My, what an eyesight she as," I replied.

"I'll just pretend I cleaned it," she said nonchalantly.

"You can never do that!" I answered. "What if Lacrecia finds out?"

"Yes I can. Madame will not look at it twice. I'd even wager that she made me wash the lace just to have the appearance of the household upside down for this guest of hers. It suits the occasion!"

"That is possible, but are you certain?"

"I could add a little perfumed scent on it, to make it seem as if I used the gentlest of soaps to rinse out the 'stains' that she sees."

"You're even more devious than I thought," I answered.

She took the basket from me. "More than you can ever think! That is the only way one can survive under the hand of Madame Lacrecia!" Suddenly, the word Madame took a different meaning with the obvious loathe in Cathy's voice. "With all the work she is ordering about every single day, one must have the wits to twist the truth to make it seem as if all is indeed accomplished."

She saw my startled expression. "Like what?" I asked.

Cathy paused. "Hmmm. When she asked me to change all the flowers on all the vases—and you know that is plenty!—a day after I had picked new ones, I went out for a stroll, and enjoyed my little bit of freedom. When I returned, I informed her that the flowers were already in the vases. And she did not think otherwise."

"She does make orders for the sake of ordering," I mused.

"But don't get me wrong! I make sure the basics are done…everything is clean around here, isn't it? And I don't spit on your food if that's what you think!" Cathy smiled wickedly.

I laughed. "That is disgusting!"

"Some maids do it."

"Then what do you do?"

"An extra portion of pepper on Madame's pillow every now and then," she said proudly. "She doesn't notice the pepper, but I could hear her sneeze during the night when I pass by her door."

"How cunning," I answered. "I don't suppose you do this to all?"

Cathy shook her head. "Caroline, when she gets to be the little Madame—which is all the time. Never Edith—she doesn't even speak to us. And of course, the idea never crossed that I should to it to you!" She sighed. "A lot of us who aren't nobility wish that those high above us would understand what it would be like to be us. If they knew, then perhaps they would not be so cruel in their treatment. But as much as we want nobility to understand what we feel, what happened to you is not right. You do not deserve to be here…unlike Madame!"

"Let's not go into that," I said. "Much has been contemplated upon it—and I fear there is little I can do."

"Humph! We'll see about that!" Then without much ado, she left the kitchen, and went to another room, perhaps to initiate her devious plans on the lace.

We'll see about that…perhaps, all was not lost, if Cathy would see it. And it was inspiring of her, considering that she never thought herself to be completely trapped. She had hope.

Then maybe…so should I.

For a time, I had sat down by the cinders once more and thought of an escape. When a plan was growing clearer and clearer in my mind, and hope was bubbling happily in me, Lacrecia came and ordered me to sleep—a bitter reminder that I was not yet free, and that much more was to be done to achieve it.

I lied down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, although it was too dark to even see anything. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Nothing changed with what I saw. There was only darkness.

I fancied thinking that it would always be like this for the rest of my life. But there was a small light in the darkness enveloping me right now. There was a chance that Lacrecia would be too distracted to notice me…perhaps she would not know that I was in the room to begin with. I could pretend…yes, of course. What kind of rebellious and defiant servant I would be if I didn't betray her trust? If she was aware that she was risking my slavery, then she had it coming. I supposed that my acting was persuaded her that I was completely under her control.

She would probably be too preoccupied with her daughter and her important guest to notice a servant girl slipping away from her room.

Predictions could come true. Assumptions could come true. Guesses could come true. Unfortunately, destiny worked against me. It wasn't easy.

I wore the most decent rags I had. By far, the most decent was the one that covered my legs properly, had patches for sleeves, and had a hole at the collar. Fashion was not included in the criteria for running away. If I had to get out of this manor naked, then I would do so.

I already had an exact destination in mind. I planned to go to my grandparents on my mother's side. I didn't know if they would accept me but it was worth the risk. Father's relatives lived far away from Rista. Mother's parents lived in a suitably near distance if I took a shortcut in the forest—and no one knew the forest better than me.

There was a careful plan in my head. I had placed a small piece of wood in my room, pilfered from the ashes of the fireplace. It was enough to hold the door slightly ajar, while giving the illusion of it being locked. Knowing Lacrecia, she would not spend too much time on locking me up. If indeed, this guest was important, she would push me inside, slam the door, and fumble with the key.

All I had to do was wait.

I was not made to go out as soon as possible. During the morning, I was asked to remain in the manor. Lacrecia wanted me to wash the breakfast dishes. By the afternoon, Lacrecia and Caroline were on pins and needles. They just looked out the window and waited, and waited. Caroline scowled at my direction and whined to her mother. Lacrecia dragged me out of the room (I was attending to them at that time). She then took me to the servant's hall and pushed me into my room.

She was about to close the door when she stopped. She was looking curiously at the toe of her slipper. I felt my face begin to pale.

"What is this?" She played with the piece of wood with her toe. "A little door stopper? For escape?" She smiled. "Oh you poor dear girl. The ashes must have addled your senses. I am not as foolish as you think." She kicked it away, my only hope, and locked the door.

I wanted to scream.

"We shall wait in the main hall until he himself comes up to the door to say his greetings," I heard her say excitedly before I was actually out of the door.

But there were no more words to hear. And…nothing else for me to do.

Was I trapped in this place for the rest of my life? I had acted with haste, and without care—and my freedom paid the price. Perhaps, if I had been more perceptive, more cunning, then maybe, I would be out of this manor today, and my freedom would be secured. But my desperation had taken its control over me, and the result was further imprisonment. How could I have been so stupid to rely on the presumption that for once Lacrecia would not be scrupulous in her observations?

I had succumbed to hopelessness. I would be trapped here until the end of my days… unless Lacrecia exiles me to a far of kingdom, where no one would hear of Alva. Not that anyone would care anyway, for who would remember the bluestocking, recluse daughter who disappeared from the face of Tryla…only to be held captive in her own manor?

I sat down on my bed and wondered about my future. But I had come to the realization that I had none. I would always be a danger to my stepfamily in many ways. If Caroline were to get what she wanted, which was to be queen, then I would step in, and I was certain that some doubts would be casted upon her treatment upon me. Lacrecia would never release me because I knew of the blood on her hands, the murder of my father. And they would ruin their futures if I were to be set free, or if I were to escape—for who would forgive a stepmother who knowingly imprisoned her stepdaughter?

It was unheard of amongst the nobility, to treat a fellow noble with such gross disregard for the blood that flowed in her veins. But then, I was reduced a maid in my own home. Whatever noble blood that protected me must have been purged already by the ashes.

I closed my eyes and lied down my bed.

There was no use speculating about a future that was dim. So instead, my wonderings turned to a future that was bright…

If I were to escape, the first thing I would do would be to return to Eric, and tell him that I loved him, with all my heart. But then, that wasn't possible as well…as Lacrecia had vowed to endanger him if I were to come close.

But what power did she have? Eric was the prince! Surely, Lacrecia's influence did not extend to the royal family…

Yet I knew. I knew in my heart, even if she were to come with no proof, that she was capable of doing so. And even though there would be no evidence of such violence from her, I would not dare risk it. I would not go to Eric, with Lacrecia free to do whatever she pleased. Oh, perhaps, I was just gullible and daft to believe her immediately.

Then, if I were to escape…then the only way to go would truly be to my nearest living relatives because I know that they would shelter me from Lacrecia. My grandparents would surely hide me, keep me away from sight. But I would not complain. It would be for the safety of others, for Eric. As long as Lacrecia's threat was feasible, I couldn't be free. And it was as real as any chain that might be holding me now.

I tried to imagine my grandparents and hoped in my heart that somehow my imaginings would come to reality. They were the door to my escape, and it didn't matter that the last time they saw me was during the funeral of my mother.

"Lady Alva!" I heard someone whisper.

I sat up from my bed.

"Lady Alva!"

"Yes?" I answered.

"It's Cathy!"

I stood up, and almost ran to the door. "Yes? What it is? Is something the matter?"

"Madame is too busy preparing for her guest, so she basically forgot us lowly people," she said. "And did I ever mention that before I came to Rista, I lived with my younger cousin, who was thief? I never got his morals, but I learned his tricks."

There was some clicking in the locks, and suddenly the door was open.

Light burst from the outside into my room of darkness, much like hope erupted blindingly into my heart.

"Oh Cathy! How can I ever thank you?"

"Hmmm…never to mention me helping you?" she answered with a grin. "I'll leave these lock picks in your room—let Madame think you've been learning, or your father taught you."

"Yes! Anything to disassociate you from me. I would hate it if you were to come to any danger!"

Cathy nodded. Then she grabbed my hand and we half-ran to the back exit of the manor. When the door opened, the sweet air that blew through the door was enough to make me realize that, freedom was so close!

"I'll take you to the far edge of the manor, just near the forest. I can make up any excuse for myself, but I cannot have you caught alone," Cathy said.

"Thank you very much, Cathy!"

"Oh! Thank Rosamund too! She's the one entertaining Lacrecia, so she would have to forget you exist!"

I gave a silent prayer of thanks for Rosamund.

"And wear this!"

Cathy handed me a cloak. I quickly wore it, placing the hood over my head, so I was certain that I was unrecognizable.

We walked all the way, almost out of the manor, through the gate. It was a bit strange actually, escaping through the front gate. But Cathy knew that it was the only way to get me safely out of the manor, unless we both knew how to climb the high walls surrounding the place.

But as we turned the bend leading to the forest, I stopped.

There was a beautiful horse, dark as night, standing as still as his owner. Then, in a painful realization, I knew who it was. Of course I couldn't believe how thickheaded I was for not realizing too soon. The only person who could make Caroline jump about like a lunatic was the person who I would most like to see yet would not want to see. Only one person could make her sing to herself out of happiness. Only one person would be able to turn Lacrecia into the Madame that Cathy continuously mocked and hated.

It was Eric.

And there I was, making my way out of the forest when I saw him, standing, almost contemplatively before turning the bend to go to my home. He was looking at the manor with this expression in his eyes. But he didn't see me, or Cathy, for he was quite far away, and some trees obscured his vision.

I stopped and quickly ran back a few steps, and collapsed on the ground, my back leaning against the stone wall of the manor's gate. Cathy ran after me, puzzled with what just happened.

"Lady Alva? What is the matter? Freedom is so near! That man will not notice you!"

"I cannot…not with him so near…" I whispered.

Lacrecia had wanted me locked in my room because she knew he would be coming…and as a maid, I would out and about the manor, doing my duties.So she had locked me up, and gave no blatant hint that it was him who would come calling. Oh, but she should only mention his name that I would stop in whatever I was doing.

"Why?" Cathy demanded. "There is no time, Lady Alva! The quicker we leave, the closer your freedom is!"

"I cannot run away with him so near." For only my mind was stopping my heart and my body from rushing to him.

Cathy abruptly sat down beside me. "Who is he? Is he not the prince? What would it matter to you?"

"Too much…"

"Then it is true what they are saying?"

I didn't need to ask. "Yes…and I cannot go, Cathy. You must stop me, for if I am closer to him than I am now, I do not know what I would do…I cannot put him in danger."

"Madame is not someone you should fear! And he is the prince!"

"And she is my stepmother…who I have never known, and who has proven herself dangerous. I cannot risk it, I cannot risk him."

She looked at me forlornly. "Alright then…let's wait for him to enter the manor. But he will probably see us, Lady Alva. Once, he enters the manor. You cannot go back inside…we have no choice!"

There was truth in her words.

I heard the hooves of his horse moving closer and closer.

I held my breath and hoped that he would not notice Cathy and I, as we were maids. What were we to him, who was a prince?

But I knew him, and I knew that every person, no matter what the status, was important to him. So I looked at the ground, the hood obscuring my identity. Cathy held my hand, and we walked slowly and surely to the manor gate, as if nothing was the matter.

Her suddenly became harder, and I realized that the horse hooves have stopped.

Eric had stopped…I could see the hooves of Nodnal, steady and unmoving.

I looked only at the ground. I didn't dare look up. I was frightened of him, although I had every chance to leap up to him and tell him to get me out of this place.

"Excuse me?" I heard his voice, and my heart almost died to hear it again.

"Your Highness!" Cathy said in reverence. I felt her dropped to a curtsy, and I did the same. "How can we be of service to you, your Highness?"

There was a pause.

Then he spoke, his voice careful, almost secretively. "Listen, it may sound impertinent but could you please tell me what happened to one of the ladies of the manor?"

Cathy's grip was taking away all the blood from my hands…for which I was thankful. I was motionless with surprised. I cannot appear to be myself, I thought.

"Lady Caroline, sir?" Cathy replied. "Ah, she is beautiful, is she not? She is expecting you!"

"Uh, yes, she is," he answered uncomfortably. "But it is not her I wish to ask about…it is her stepsister, the Lady Alva."

He still thought of me! I wanted to scream "Yes! She is here, right in front of you!" I bit my tongue.

I could also feel Cathy almost jumping to say that I was here. Her grip was still solid, but her voice quivered a bit when she answered him.

"Aye, sir, but you just missed her. The lass—Lady Alva--ran away," Cathy answered. "Even I don't know why," she answered.

I couldn't help it. This time, I dared to look at him. I met his eyes yet I didn't know if he recognized me. Something crossed his face yet I was unable to interpret it. But as quickly as a second could pass by, my face was down again.

"Well, that's all I need to know. Thank you…?"

"Cathy."

"And?"

He was looking at me, wondering what was so peculiar about this girl with the cloak.

"Anne," Cathy said quickly. "My cousin…she is dumb and mute, your Highness. I was only taking her for a stroll in the woods to calm her spirits…"

"Then, best be on your way now. I should not be a bother to your excursion," he said.

"Thank you sir…"

He turned his back and when he did, Cathy suddenly said, "Your Highness, what are you doing in my mistress' home? If you do not find the question impertinent…you see, it is rare for us to see royalty!"

I could imagine his now, wondering and lost. He didn't answer immediately, and when he did, his voice was careful, almost hurt. "I was meaning to ask about Lady Alva, but your statement seems to have answered me already."

I almost cried. He still loved me despite my stepmother's spiteful lies. He came here especially for me! And yet, he would have to spend time with Caroline instead of me, his intent. How I longed to tell him I loved him! My hands shook terribly, involuntarily wanting to take off this accursed hook, and clasping his hands with mine. But I couldn't—shouldn't! I couldn't endanger him. And even if I did tell him about Lacrecia's threat, it would be futile. I didn't know how powerful my stepmother was.

The next time we meet…there would be no risk, and we would be safe, in love.

"Your Highness, you might find my suggestion disrespectful but Lady Alva would not be wanting you to forget her if she were here."

Before he could reply, Cathy curtsied to him, and I followed suit. She didn't wait for his answer, and she only ran as if afraid that the prince would be angered by her impertinence. If he said anything, we didn't hear it, for we were far away.

I could hear his horse moving away once more, to the direction of the manor.

All my life, I never would have thought I would walk away from the one I loved. I never thought that I would turn my back on him, and probably never be this close to him again.

Cathy released my hand when we reached the end of the forest. She embraced me tightly, and I could feel tears coming to my eyes.

"Do not turn back," she whispered to my ear, then she pushed me to the forest, and ran back to the manor.

I ran as well, away from the manor, away from Eric—and into a future that was uncertain.