The stain on the floor had been there forever, but Rella scrubbed at it anyway; she was likely to get beaten for not getting it off no matter what she did, and she figured maybe Rhianna would notice that she had tried. Continuing to single-mindedly scrub, out of the corner of her eye she saw the richly dressed herald strolling ceremoniously out of the door, nose stuck in the air.
Rhianna waited for the door to swing shut after him before fussing at her. "Are you done cleaning the floor yet?" she demanded pompously, from above Rella's head. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the question; after all, wasn't the answer obvious?
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the kick aimed at her side just soon enough to roll out of the way. "Answer me when I ask you a question, you impertinent little brat!" the sorceress scowled, aiming another kick at her side, which she didn't quite manage to dodge. Falling flat on the floor, her hand flew to the side and landed atop the handle of the bucket of soapy water. Automatically, she hefted it, throwing it at the sorceress to defend herself.
She had perfect aim. For a moment, Rhianna was so stunned that she simply stood there, black silk and purple velvet dress dripping water and soapsuds on the halfway-cleaned floor. If the situation hadn't been so serious, she would have laughed. As it was, Rhianna recovered from her surprise before Rella could move. Snarling, she yanked her up by her sleeve, cloth tearing as she did so. Grasping her roughly by the shoulders, long nails digging into her flesh, the sorceress shook her so hard she felt as if her bones must have rattled, then smacked her quite soundly across the face. Scowling, she stalked off to change into dryer clothing.
Rella dropped to her knees, hand to her cheek. She had surprised herself as much as the she had surprised Rhianna, that was for sure. Taking a deep breath, she made herself go back to work; after all, it certainly wasn't her first beating and subsequent bruises. Grasping the bucket, she went to refill it.
As she turned on the spigot and cold water began to splash inside the bucket, she couldn't help but wish she could have paid attention to the herald that had come, even though she already knew what he was going to say. Everyone in the town did as well, which she had found out that afternoon when she was sent for groceries.
"Heard about the big ball?" one woman would ask another, and the other would nod excitedly; or, more rarely, the other would ask, "No, what ball?" And then the first woman would tell the other what everyone else already knew: the King of Valava was holding a great ball, to which all eligible maidens in the country were invited. Out of all these eligible maidens, Prince Thadindor, rumored to be the most handsome and desirable man anywhere in the country, would choose his bride.
Shaking her head, she took her bucket and brush, and went back out to the entrance hall to resume scrubbing. Rella might be an eligible maiden, but she was fairly certain she wouldn't go to the ball. The sorceress Rhianna would send her own two hideous daughters, and leave Rella at home. She wasn't entirely sure she objected to that, either. After all, what if the woman the Prince chose as his bride didn't want to marry him? What if the two didn't get along? It didn't seem like a very good way to choose a bride. And besides, what if the Prince was spoiled rotten, as she'd heard a lot of royalty was?
Not that she'd ever had any experience with Princes herself; her father might have been a prosperous merchant, but he never had any royalty among his customers. In fact, they had been in quite dire financial straits the last time she had seen him; so dire that she suspected he might even have sold her to the sorceress. She didn't believe, though, that he knew what he had been selling her into. No matter how much money he might have been offerred, she didn't think he would have sold his only daughter into slavery.
An unearthly caterwauling drifted into the room, the racous noise unstopped by the many walls in between it and Rella. Lianne was attempting to sing a love song, with Anastasia playing harmony on the flute.
Attempting is right, Rella thought wryly. Even she, who wasn't at all proficient in music, could tell how horrible the two sisters were; all it took was a pair of ears.
Looking around at the floor of the entrance hall, she nodded; it was as clean as it was ever going to get. Picking up her bucket and brush, she strolled down the hallway, innocently reaching out to shut the door to the music room as she walked by. The noise still penetrated into the hallway, but at least it was a little bit easier to ignore.
Bucket and brush placed inside the kitchen closet, she paused on the way out to look herself over in the hallway mirror. As she had expected; a bruise was already forming on her left cheek. With a morbid sigh, she tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, green eyes staring woefully back at her in the mirror. She wasn't exactly what one could call pretty; her eyes were just a bit too far apart, and her nose a little too straight, and her chin a little too pointed. Her ears were slightly pointed at the top, too--Lianne had told her once that it was a sign of elven blood, but Rella wasn't too sure that she believed in that.
Not that Lianne is a beauty either. Lianne's ears were too big, and her hair and eyes were a plain shade of brown that didn't quite suit her pale complexion. Anastasia was even uglier; her nose was at least two times as big as a normal person's, and whenever she went into the sun she always got a tan and freckles, even if she wore a hat. Her also brown eyes didn't look right when they were set among a tan and red hair, and both of the sisters had absolutely enormous feet.
Rhianna is the only one in this house that could be called a beauty. Rhianna had long black hair that lightly skimmed the floor when it was put down all the way, and green eyes set in a classic face, with red lips, pale skin, and a perfect little ski-jump nose; all in all, she was the epitome of classic beauty.
"Rella!" Anastasia's nasal voice interrupted her reverie. With a sigh, she headed to the music room.
Opening the door, she immediately curtsyed to the three within. "Yes, milady?" she asked, not looking up.
"Lianne and I have clothes we need you to wash," Anastasia ordered bossily. "They're up in our rooms. Go get them now."
She curtsied again, eyes on the floor. "Yes, milady." Leaving the room, she closed the door behind her, wincing as they restarted their practice.
She had to stop in the kitchen closet again to get two baskets for carrying clothes, and it took her quite a while to gather up the sisters' hastily discarded clothes from the past few days. As she filled the wooden tub with hot water, using Rhianna's amazingly advanced system of indoor pipes, she heaved a sigh. How long had she been here, servant to Rhianna and daughters? And how long would she be? No one had ever spoken of her going home, ever.
Not that I ever really had a home, but travelling all over the place with Father was a lot better than being a slave to Rhianna. She would have asked a long time ago if Rhianna knew where her Father was, but knew she'd probably get beaten for it.
Absently beginning to scrub one of Lianne's dresses, she wondered, not for the first time, about the possibility of running away. She had contemplated it before, but had always decided it wasn't wise. After all, she didn't know what magic the sorceress had, and Rhianna could probably track her down as soon as she left. Who knew what Rhianna would do to her if she tried to run away and failed?
I doubt Rhianna would kill me, but you never know. And as much as I hate doing all this, I find myself oddly attached to being alive.
No, there was no way she could make it without help.
Without help...
What about with help? No, that's silly. Who would help you, anyway? You're just Rhianna's scullery maid.
No, no one would help me. At least I've managed to learn to avoid getting beaten most of the time--and at least I have my friends.
Reminded by that thought, she hurriedly finished scrubbing the last of the dresses and hung them up to dry. Looking around carefully, she ran out to the stables, hurrying so no one would see her and assign her another duty. Walking along the row of stalls, she patted the horses on the noses, greeting them by name. Raven, Crow, Nightingale, Hawk--Rhianna named all her horses after birds.
In case anyone saw her and asked what she was doing, she picked up a currycomb, striding into Raven's stall and giving the big black stallion a hug before beginning to groom the horse. "Hello, Raven," she whispered to him. "A herald from the King came here today."
Was he that strange-looking twolegs? Raven wanted to know. She nodded, absently working the currycomb in circles. "He came to tell us about the King's ball."
You never had heralds coming to tell you about balls before.
"That's because this is a special ball, Raven. Every eligible maiden in the kingdom is invited, and the Prince is going to choose his bride from among them."
I see. You'll be going, then?
"No, I doubt it. Rhianna will probably just send Lianne and Anastasia and leave me here." Patting him on the shoulder, she went to the tack room to get a hoof pick.
But you are an eligible maiden, he said as she came back into his stall. He sounded confused, and she chuckled as he obediently lifted a leg for her to clean his hoof. "Do you think Rhianna cares?" she asked him.
Well...no.
Lowering the first leg, she moved to another. "Well, there you go, then," she told him.
Have you ever thought of running away?
Strolling out from the stall, she deposited the hoof pick in its place and picked up a mane and tail comb. "Well, yes," she answered him as she began to pick out snarls in the stallion's mane. "I never actually did anything because I wouldn't make it alone."
Why not?
"Because Rhianna is a sorceress. If I ran away she could probably hunt me down and kill me. Easily."
Oh. Well, who might be able to help you?
"Exactly. Who would help me? I'm just a scullery maid, Raven. I'm nobody. There's nobody in this world that would be willing to help me."
I wouldn't be so sure about that, he started, but was interrupted by Rhianna, calling for her. With a sigh, she patted Raven on the shoulder, setting down her comb and giving him a whispered reassurance that she would come back later if she could before trotting back up the path to the sorceress' castle. "Yes, milady?" she asked humbly as she came near, dropping into a curtsy that wobbled slightly.
"What were you doing out in the stables?" the sorceress snapped.
"Grooming the horses, milady," she replied, keeping her eyes on the ground.
"Were you asked to groom the horses?" Rhianna replied acidly.
"Well, no, milady. But I knew it needed to be done, so I thought I could do it before I got asked--"
"I have told you before, you shan't do things without being asked," the sorceress said sharply. "Now, go. We're expecting a visitor tomorrow, and he'll probably end up staying the night. Go get one of the guest rooms ready for him." Turning, she left in a swirl of black silk-and-velvet skirts.
Shaking her head, she wondered who in the world might be coming. Well, at least she knew it was a he. Turning, she trotted back in through the side door to the castle, the door that led from the kitchen to the stables. The brick portion of the castle was incredibly hot with the heat of all the ovens, as usual, Cook's helpers in white aprons scurrying around busily.
She managed to weave her way throughout the scurrying helpers, and ran up the short flight of three steps to the main hallway of the castle. In front of her were a series of doors, leading to various closets and rooms; to her left, the grand entrance hall, and to her right, another hallway. She turned to the right with the ease of long practice, trotting down the hall and turning right again.
She was just beginning to climb the grand, red-carpeted set of stairs that led to the second floor when she heard Lianne's voice, calling her. "Rell-aaa!" she called sweetly, voice coming from inside the music room.
That sweet tone could mean only one thing: trouble. "I'm busy," she yelled back, trotting up the stairs hurriedly before she could get in trouble for talking to Lianne in such a tone. On the second floor was long row of guest rooms; she picked one, mostly at random, and darting inside, closing the door behind her.
Pulling the key that would open all the doors in the castle from her pocket, she locked the door behind her; that way, Lianne wouldn't be able to find her. Sometimes being a servant who has to go everywhere comes in handy.
Lianne's voice came floating insistently up the stairs, her tone becoming impatient. Hah. Even if she finds me, Rhianna told me to do this, so I can't get in trouble for it. Not that Lianne really cares...
Turning around, she looked about the room thoughtfully, surveying her surroundings. This was what Rhianna called the Red Room; the curtains, floor tile, walls, everything was set in various shades of red, everything from almost-pink to deep scarlet. The room itself was fairly extravagant, with its huge, currently unmade, four-poster canopy bed--red, of course--and its large oak wardrobe and golden-trimmed mirror. All in all, though, it was just right to make the occupant think he was an honored guest, but not much more than that.
It was just too bad she didn't know what kind of guest to expect. If she had, she might have been able to pick a guest room he was likely to enjoy staying in; hopefully, whoever he was, he liked red.
Strolling confidently over to the closet set in one corner, she pulled it open, revealing a large amount of dust, a wicker basket, and several of Lianne and Anastasia's leftover gowns, all of them from about the age of twelve. Wrinkling her nose and trying not to sneeze at the dust, she took the lid off the basket, pulling out the bedclothes contained within. Everything was here, from sheets to pillowcases to red velvet blanket.
The bed at last made, she returned to the closet, surveying the gowns within with a frown. True, most occupants of the room tended to use the wardrobe more than they did the closet, but one never knew. Frowning, she tried to think; something had to be done with the old gowns.
Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. Grinning, she began to take the gowns out of the closet and fold them carefully, piling them on a nearby table. I can take them to town with me the next time I have to go for groceries and sell them there--and, if I manage to hide them, I can even keep the money for myself.
Tucking the pile of clothing underneath her arm, she unlocked the door and glanced around. Neither of the sisters were anywhere in sight. Scurrying down the stairs, she took an immediate right into her own small room, setting them down on her hard mattress with a sigh of relief. The dresses had several years' worth of dust in the folds, and carrying them made her constantly want to sneeze.
Glancing around her room, she sighed, trying to think of a place to hide them up until her next visit to the market. She would have just put them in the closet, but it was barely big enough to fit her own meager possessions in; after all, the room itself was barely bigger than a closet. There was, however, just a slight, hand's span of space underneath the hard mattress that was her excuse for a bed...
Kneeling, she shoved the dresses into that bare amount of space beneath the bed. No one would ever look under there; the sorceress and her daughters tended to avoid going into Rella's room when they could help it.
Straightening and dusting off her knees, she started to walk towards the door to open it, but it flew open before she got there, almost hitting her in the nose. Glancing at the angry Lianne standing there, she winced. The door to her room had a lock, for when the sorceress wanted to lock her in, but the set of locks on it was different than all the others, and Rhianna was the only one that held the key.
"Why didn't you come when I called you, maid?" Lianne demanded, scowling furiously. "I had to look all over the house for you, you lazy piece of filth!"
"I'm sorry, milady!" she exclaimed. "So sorry..." Scuffing her foot along the floor, she stared at Lianne's huge feet. Sometimes being thought the simpleton the sisters often called her was good--with that in mind, she babbled on for a while about how sorry she was, how she would be oh so careful not to do anything like that again. Just for good measure, she stuttered on a few words.
Lianne was obviously becoming aggravated. "Oh, shut up!" she snapped. "I asked you, why didn't you come?!"
She looked up, spreading her eyes wide. "Oh, see, I would have, I really would have, milady, bu-but Mistress Rhianna told me to go fix up the rooms for our guest, and I d-didn't want to get in t-t-t-trouble with the Mistress, you see, but if there's a-anything I can do for you, milady, a-anything at all, please do just tell me, I'll be right on it, I p-promise, I--"
Lianne yawned lazily. "I was going to tell you to prepare Nightingale for a ride, but I'm not sure if a halfwit like you is up to it, now that I think about it."
"Oh, I'll go get her ready, milady, glad to, always glad to--" She scurried off in the general direction of the stables, continuing her speech about how glad she was to serve until she was certain Lianne was out of earshot.
Sighing, she sagged against the stable wall. How long have I been here, anyway? Since I was ten...that was six years ago, not that I ever get a birthday party here. It's been far too long...
She could still remember the day she had come here. She had fallen asleep in the back of her father's wagon as he had been haggling with a customer, and had woke to find herself tied hand and foot, carried in a large, dark, carriage. Rhianna had been sitting beside her, though she hadn't known who the sorceress was at that time.
Scared, she had kicked out at the sorceress with her bound feet, only to find herself slammed against the door of the carriage as Rhianna threw a spell at her. She had felt blood trickle inside her mouth, and when she opened her mouth to yell in pain, her one loose tooth had dropped onto the carriage floor.
She had managed to struggle into a sitting position, propped against the door, and somehow worked up the courage to glare at the sorceress, despite her overwhelming fear. "Who are you?" she had asked, trying not to let her teeth chatter in fright.
"I am Rhianna," the woman had told her, glaring icily. "I am a sorceress. I have kidnapped you from your father, and you're going to work as my scullery maid. You'll obey me and won't ask any more questions, or I'll throw you into the wall again."
She had blinked, wondering about the part about being kidnapped. She couldn't help but remember the fact that they had been nearly broke; she hadn't seen her father's records, but she did know that recently, her father hadn't been able to buy her any of the things she wanted, as he normally did when they visited the large Faires. He had even sold her mother's pearls the week before, which proved to Rella more than anything else that they were in deep financial trouble.
She had tried asking him what exactly had caused them to be so broke, but when asked, he had just mumbled something about gambling debts and left, scurrying to the front of his Faire stall. Remembering, she glared at the sorceress and, feeling bold, asked, "How much money did you pay him for me, and what lies did you tell him about how well I would be treated?"
The sorceress had hit her with that spell again, knocking her into the far door once more. This time, she slumped to the floor, and decided that to remain silent would be far better. She would wait until they got to this crazy woman's home; she would have to untie her then, so she could walk. She would escape then.
The carriage had finally stopped, and the sorceress got out and walked around to Rella's door. "Try to escape, and I will make your life a living hell," Rhianna had informed her shortly, and untied the rope binding her wrists and ankles. Rella had gotten out of the car and followed the woman placidly, at least for a while. Once the sorceress's back was turned, she had ran, feet trampling the carefully cultured lawn.
That was when a wall of fire had appeared in front of her. She had skidded to a halt as soon as she could, but she hadn't quite missed it, and her sleeve had caught on fire. She had screamed and tried to put it out, when it had gone out by itself, as the sorceress strolled casually over to her.
"I trust you won't try escaping again," was all she had said. Rella hadn't.
Her first view of the castle, gigantic and made of grey stone, looking entirely like an evil castle from a fairy tale, had been quite a forboding one. Somehow it didn't scare her as much as it might have, though; perhaps it was the absence of the bolt of lightning in the background that would have accompanied a castle in a tale.
The sorceress had taken her to the room that was still her's today, barely bigger than a closet, it's only furnishings a tiny table, a rock-hard mattress for a bed, and an incredibly tiny closet in one corner, already filled with a selection of plain white dresses, suited for doing servant's work. The only furnishings the bed had on it were a stiff pillow, and a single, cold sheet.
She had shivered through that entire night, and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. When the sun finally shone in through the narrow slit that served as a window, the door had flown open, and Lianne and Anastasia had come bounding in, eager to peer at their newest maid.
Rella had only seen two young girls her age, who were potential friends. "Hello!" she had told them cheerfully, bounding out of bed with the endless energy of a ten-year-old. "I'm Rella, what's your names?"
Lianne and Anastasia had shared a look. "I'm Lianne, and this is my sister Anastasia," the brunette girl had explained haughtily. "We're Rhianna's daughters, and you're to wait on us, too." At that, the two girls had exchanged grins of arrogant delight.
They had then left her room, but Rella had still hoped, despite their attitude, that she might be able to become friends with them. After all, they were the only other ten-year-olds here. Her hopes were quickly dashed, though; Anastasia avoided her most of the day, and all her attempts at conversation with Lianne resulted in being told that she was a servant, and that she was acting like she was a noble lady herself. Then the girl would haughtily tell her to go do something.
She had explored the gigantic house when she got the chance, and was outside, exploring the equally gigantic gardens, when she came upon a cluster of nothing but rosebushes. She had gasped with delight; she loved roses, and always had. Hunting around eagerly, she had found a very beautiful white rose, and had gingerly plucked it from among the thorns, holding it to her nose to breathe in the delicate scent.
"You're not supposed to pick flowers in the gardens," Anastasia's annoying voice called from the entranceway to the gardens.
She looked up. "I'm just going to give it some water and let it grow in my room," she had replied defensively. "What's the harm in that?"
The other girl didn't look convinced. "Mother will fuss when she finds out."
"She won't find out if you don't tell her," Rella had replied sensibly.
She had thought Anastasia would keep the rose she had picked a secret, but found out later than the other girl had told on her. The sorceress, upon finding out, had smacked her in the side of the face, told her quite firmly that the flowers weren't to be picked, and sent her to groom the horses.
"I can't stand it here!" she had fumed, stomping out to the stables. "Rhianna is cruel, Lianne's a brat, and Anastasia is a two-faced little tattletale!" Storming into the tack room, she had grabbed a currycomb and made her way into Raven's stall.
Hello! the horse had greeted her as she walked into his stall.
She dropped the currycomb in the hay, staring at the large black stallion. "What?"
I said, hello. Didn't you hear me?
She blinked, still staring, now with her mouth hanging open. "Are you...are you talking to me? You, the horse, Raven?"
Of course I am, silly. You don't see anyone else here, do you?
Blinking, she shook herself, and began hunting for the currycomb. Finding it at last, she straightened. "Can you talk to all humans?"
No, you are the first twolegs I can talk to. I have tried talking to the others, but they never seem to hear me, so I eventually gave up.
Over the next few days, she had eventually become friends with all of the horses in Rhianna's stable, and eventually became used to her odd, newfound ability. Raven was her favorite, though she didn't dare tell any of the others as much; his horse sense appealed to her common sense, and he had an abundance of horse sense. They had been her only friends in Rhianna's castle--besides Cook--and she didn't know if she could have made it through without them.
That in mind, she jerked out of her reverie, moving towards the tack room to get Nightingale's saddle and bridle. Setting them on the rack conveniently situated on the stall door, she picked up a currycomb and headed inside to groom the gray mare. Is it exercise time? she asked happily.
Rella shook her head. "No, Nightingale. I'm afraid not. Lianne is going to ride you."
Lianne came into view, snickering. "Still talking to horses, are you?"
Rella gazed, wide-eyed, at the mare, replying as if she thought Nightingale was the one who had spoken: "Oh, of course! It is so wonderful that I'm able to talk to you, don't you think?"
"The horse isn't talking, halfwit. I am." Strolling into the stall, Lianne snatched the currycomb out of Rella's hand. "Simpletons aren't allowed to tend to the horses of this household."
"Oh, if you don't want me to do it, milady, then I won't," she responded, sounding incredibly happy. "But if there's anything I can do for you, do let me know, I'll get to it right away, you know I will, nobody happier to work than me--" Still chattering to herself, she skipped away down the stable hall and ducked into Raven's stall to hide.
Nightingale? she thought tentatively. She'd never tried actually addressing the horses in her own thoughts before, but it seemed to make sense that it would work. After all, the horses responded in her thoughts.
Yes? Nightingale's voice said in her head. She smiled softly. Nightingale, do me a favor and make this as hard for Lianne as possible.
More than glad to, Nightingale responded in a happily mischevious manner. Rella hid a gigle.
She watched Lianne leading Nightingale out, swatting absently at Raven as he nudged at her pocket, searching for carrots. Silly, she thought at him fondly. If I had a carrot, I'd give you one.
Watching Lianne and her mare, she hid a laugh--Lianne hadn't been watching for that clever trick horses have of holding in their breath when the girth is tightened and only exhaling once their rider has tightened the girth, so that the girth is nice and loose, just the way the horse likes it. Nightingale had gotten away with that trick--Lianne was almost certain to fall off in this riding session.
For a moment, she wavered, wondering if she should tell Lianne about it. Riding with a loose girth could be very, very dangerous...
No. No, they've beaten me all too often without a thought for my safety. It's payback time.
Sneaking around the corner of the stable, she headed back into the castle.
