Chapter 13 is here! I have one word for everyone. REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's really depressing not having more reviews. Anya doesn't count. She has no life. JK ANYA! :) Come on!
Bubba's Revenge!
I was given one day to learn what I was supposed to do, and then I would begin to serve. A young woman with long, curly brown hair offered to show me the ropes. Her name was Caitlyn. She took me with her to clean the room of a duke whose name I didn't catch. She taught me not to EVER skip the corners, to ALWAYS fluff the pillows from both sides, and to never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER do anything different than from the day before. The idea was to make them believe that the servant was very well trained. For some reason, nobility thought that consistency meant experience. I know I didn't.
That night, I was tingling with anticipation of the next day. I didn't even mind the servant's quarters so much. The sheets were clean, there were no bugs or rats, and the privy was behind a curtain. Sure, it was the size of a bathroom and supposed to hold 6 people, but beggars can't be choosers. I winced at that expression. Was I a beggar? Just becasue I was wearing commoners clothes, working as a servant and sleeping in a servant bed, did it mean that I wasn't a noble anymore?
I shook off that train of thought, and forced myself to plan my revenge. The first step would be to find out where Schuyler was quartered in the palace. That should be easy enough. Servants gossip to no end. The next step would be to buddy up to whatever servant was tending his room. The rest of my plan would have to be built around whatever came of that. Satisfied, I rolled over and drifted off to sleep dreaming of sweet Bubba.
I woke up at the sound of a bell. I glanced out the one tiny window in the room. It looked to be about an hour before dawn. These crazy city folk have got the bell wrong. No one, and I repeat, NO ONE gets up before DAWN. But, judging from the servants all around me that leapt out of bed, I had stumbled upon the one place in the world where they did.
I half stumbled, half rolled out of bed, tangling myself up in the sheets. Caitlyn laughed infectiously and held out a hand to me. Noticing her lively, wide-awakeness, I glared up at her. She laughed again and asked me where the cheerfullness she had seen yesterday had gone. I replied that my good mood awoke at the same time as the sane population of the world, and to try me in a couple of hours. She made a wonderfully astute prediction that I was not a morning person. I groaned in response.
Once I had all the right clothes on all the right body parts, and after various occasions of forgetting to open doors or opening the wrong ones, I made it down to the servant's mess. I could tell that I was one of the last ones to get there. I found Caitlyn after tapping some wrong shoulders. She seemed too giddy to be allowed. I shot daggers at her from my eyes, grabbed a tray, put something on it (I wasn't really paying close attention), and sat down next to her. She grinned at me and trillied, "Eat up, we've got a big day!" My response: "Mumble-wumble."
Somehow, I managed to choke down a few lumps of mush, and I thanked the gods that my taste buds hadn't awoken yet. Selma then stepped up to a podium in front of the room, placed two fingers in her mouth, and whistled so loudly that I was sure some snow was shaked loose at the Roof of the World. Needless to say, the whole room fell silent. Selma then announced the new arrivals, and we stood up. There were 10 newcomers. She read our names and whose room we were to tend. I was second to last, and I was nervous. What if I was chosen to wait on someone whom I knew!? That would be the end of me. I would have to disguise myself if that happened. And then it happened.
"Arianne Greene, please stand." I had obviously created a false last name. "Arianne, you will be assigned to room 3417, currently occupied by Sir Schuyler of Iybola."
The bottom of my stomach plummeted to the floor. My heart raced, and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. My plans were surely ruined now. I would have to run away, perhaps to another country. I might even have to stage my death. I would need to leave immediately, taking only a....
Caitlyn tugged on my arm, everyone in the room was staring at me. I quickly sat, my cheeks burning. There was only one more name after mine, and then Selma stepped down and everyone resumed talking. Caitlyn whispered excitedly to me, "You got the Iybolian! Everyone's talking about how handsome he is! He only just arrived here at court!" I halted her with a hand and said to her in a low, ominous voice, "Caitlyn, you don't understand. That man is evil. He...he's a murderer. Stay away from him." She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, and then her lips curved in a smile. She laughed, "Of course I undertand! You want him all to yourself!" My mouth opened in disbelief, and I worked my tongue a moment before being able to speak. "That's ridiculous! He's a MURDERER! Do you want me to spell it for you? M-U-R-D-E-R-E-R. I loathe him!" Caitlyn still didn't believe me, from the look on her face. She skeptically asked, "Who did he murder, then? Face it girl, you've never even met the man!" I was about to retort when I thought better of it. I was going to leave, so what was the point of giving them more clues as to my identity? I decided to pretend to agree with her, even though it went against everything that I believed in. I forced a smile, and then lied, "I guess you're right. Maybe it's just a rumor."
I walked out of mess faster than everyone else, quickly formulating a plan of escape. I couldn't leave now, it would have to be at night. That meant cleaning Schuyler's room today. I would have to conjure up a wig. I decided to make it the opposite of my hair. Dirty blond (very common in Tortall), straight as a sword, and middle-of-the-neck short. The last thing I wanted was to stick out. If he was in the room when I went in, I would just face away from him the whole time, my "hair" shielding my face.
I ducked into a corner and quickly conjured up a wig. I pinned my hair up (after being reared as a noble, you never went around without some hairpins in your pocket), and slipped the wig on. Perfect fit. I grabbed the cleaning supplies I would need from the room where a number of them were ready, and set off towards room number 3417.
It's really depressing not having more reviews. Anya doesn't count. She has no life. JK ANYA! :) Come on!
Bubba's Revenge!
I was given one day to learn what I was supposed to do, and then I would begin to serve. A young woman with long, curly brown hair offered to show me the ropes. Her name was Caitlyn. She took me with her to clean the room of a duke whose name I didn't catch. She taught me not to EVER skip the corners, to ALWAYS fluff the pillows from both sides, and to never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER do anything different than from the day before. The idea was to make them believe that the servant was very well trained. For some reason, nobility thought that consistency meant experience. I know I didn't.
That night, I was tingling with anticipation of the next day. I didn't even mind the servant's quarters so much. The sheets were clean, there were no bugs or rats, and the privy was behind a curtain. Sure, it was the size of a bathroom and supposed to hold 6 people, but beggars can't be choosers. I winced at that expression. Was I a beggar? Just becasue I was wearing commoners clothes, working as a servant and sleeping in a servant bed, did it mean that I wasn't a noble anymore?
I shook off that train of thought, and forced myself to plan my revenge. The first step would be to find out where Schuyler was quartered in the palace. That should be easy enough. Servants gossip to no end. The next step would be to buddy up to whatever servant was tending his room. The rest of my plan would have to be built around whatever came of that. Satisfied, I rolled over and drifted off to sleep dreaming of sweet Bubba.
I woke up at the sound of a bell. I glanced out the one tiny window in the room. It looked to be about an hour before dawn. These crazy city folk have got the bell wrong. No one, and I repeat, NO ONE gets up before DAWN. But, judging from the servants all around me that leapt out of bed, I had stumbled upon the one place in the world where they did.
I half stumbled, half rolled out of bed, tangling myself up in the sheets. Caitlyn laughed infectiously and held out a hand to me. Noticing her lively, wide-awakeness, I glared up at her. She laughed again and asked me where the cheerfullness she had seen yesterday had gone. I replied that my good mood awoke at the same time as the sane population of the world, and to try me in a couple of hours. She made a wonderfully astute prediction that I was not a morning person. I groaned in response.
Once I had all the right clothes on all the right body parts, and after various occasions of forgetting to open doors or opening the wrong ones, I made it down to the servant's mess. I could tell that I was one of the last ones to get there. I found Caitlyn after tapping some wrong shoulders. She seemed too giddy to be allowed. I shot daggers at her from my eyes, grabbed a tray, put something on it (I wasn't really paying close attention), and sat down next to her. She grinned at me and trillied, "Eat up, we've got a big day!" My response: "Mumble-wumble."
Somehow, I managed to choke down a few lumps of mush, and I thanked the gods that my taste buds hadn't awoken yet. Selma then stepped up to a podium in front of the room, placed two fingers in her mouth, and whistled so loudly that I was sure some snow was shaked loose at the Roof of the World. Needless to say, the whole room fell silent. Selma then announced the new arrivals, and we stood up. There were 10 newcomers. She read our names and whose room we were to tend. I was second to last, and I was nervous. What if I was chosen to wait on someone whom I knew!? That would be the end of me. I would have to disguise myself if that happened. And then it happened.
"Arianne Greene, please stand." I had obviously created a false last name. "Arianne, you will be assigned to room 3417, currently occupied by Sir Schuyler of Iybola."
The bottom of my stomach plummeted to the floor. My heart raced, and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. My plans were surely ruined now. I would have to run away, perhaps to another country. I might even have to stage my death. I would need to leave immediately, taking only a....
Caitlyn tugged on my arm, everyone in the room was staring at me. I quickly sat, my cheeks burning. There was only one more name after mine, and then Selma stepped down and everyone resumed talking. Caitlyn whispered excitedly to me, "You got the Iybolian! Everyone's talking about how handsome he is! He only just arrived here at court!" I halted her with a hand and said to her in a low, ominous voice, "Caitlyn, you don't understand. That man is evil. He...he's a murderer. Stay away from him." She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, and then her lips curved in a smile. She laughed, "Of course I undertand! You want him all to yourself!" My mouth opened in disbelief, and I worked my tongue a moment before being able to speak. "That's ridiculous! He's a MURDERER! Do you want me to spell it for you? M-U-R-D-E-R-E-R. I loathe him!" Caitlyn still didn't believe me, from the look on her face. She skeptically asked, "Who did he murder, then? Face it girl, you've never even met the man!" I was about to retort when I thought better of it. I was going to leave, so what was the point of giving them more clues as to my identity? I decided to pretend to agree with her, even though it went against everything that I believed in. I forced a smile, and then lied, "I guess you're right. Maybe it's just a rumor."
I walked out of mess faster than everyone else, quickly formulating a plan of escape. I couldn't leave now, it would have to be at night. That meant cleaning Schuyler's room today. I would have to conjure up a wig. I decided to make it the opposite of my hair. Dirty blond (very common in Tortall), straight as a sword, and middle-of-the-neck short. The last thing I wanted was to stick out. If he was in the room when I went in, I would just face away from him the whole time, my "hair" shielding my face.
I ducked into a corner and quickly conjured up a wig. I pinned my hair up (after being reared as a noble, you never went around without some hairpins in your pocket), and slipped the wig on. Perfect fit. I grabbed the cleaning supplies I would need from the room where a number of them were ready, and set off towards room number 3417.