Chapter 2
Ivy was in the garden as usual, planting the lilies for her stepmother. After the murder of her father over eight years ago, she had become passionate about gardening. The duchess didn't mind, as she herself seemed to like the cascades of flowers Ivy was able to grow.
"Mistress Ivy, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?" came Ivy's stepsister's taunting voice. Ivy ignored her.
"Good morning, Ivy," her stepsister said again, in a sneering voice.
"Good morning, Parveneh," Ivy responded calmly.
"Make sure those lilies are planted deep enough," Ivy heard her stepmother say from a window in the house.
"Yes, mistress," Ivy called.
"Yes, Ivy, make sure they are deep enough. Mother wouldn't like it if they didn't grow correctly," Parveneh said. She stood above Ivy on top of the hill in her fancy dress, her brown tendrils coming down her swarthy face. Ivy rolled her eyes, pushed the hair out of her face, and continued to work. She had never failed to grow lilies correctly, ever since she was ten years old. The sun beat down on her neck.
"It's hot. I'm going inside," Parveneh announced.
Ivy just sighed. Her stepsisters were awfully snobbish, but Ivy often had the impression that they were because they were afraid of their mother.
Parveneh left, probably to find her sister so they could simper over their new dresses. Ivy finished with the lily buds, and went to check on the roses climbing the eastern wall of the chateau. She clipped one, removed the thorns, and went inside.
"Ivy! Come up here!" she heard her stepmother yell.
"Coming miss!" Ivy quickly filled a vase with water, placed the rose inside, and hurried up the grand staircase.
She hurried into her stepmother's room, where she found her, Parveneh, and her other stepsister Souzan, looking through dresses.
"Here, miss," Ivy said upon entering the room, placing the rose onto the bedside table.
"Oh, thank you," her stepmother said offhandedly. "Ivy, come here. Fit this dress for Souzan."
Ivy went to reach for the pins, but her stepmother cried out.
"For heaven sake's child, go wash your filthy hands! How dare you touch that dress with that dirt all over you!" she cried.
Ivy looked down at her hands. Dirt was in every crevice and line. She hurried out of the room, washed her hands in the washroom, which took longer than she expected. Once done, she hurried right back to the room.
"Finally, how long does it take you?" her stepmother chided. Ivy mumbled an apology, and reached once again for the pins. She walked around Souzan, who was wearing a dress of clear blue, matching her eyes and making her blond hair seem golden. It was large around the hips, and Ivy pinched it together. The room was silent as her stepmother and Parveneh looked at brooches.
"This one!" Parveneh suddenly exclaimed, causing Ivy to stick Souzan with a pin.
"Ouch! Mother, she stabbed me!" Souzan cried.
"Ivy, you careless, witless girl!" her stepmother scolded harshly. "You can't do one simple task without messing it all up!"
Ivy took a deep breath, and said, "I am sorry, Souzan."
"Go downstairs and help Mehri with dinner since you obviously are no help up here," her stepmother barked.
"Yes, ma'am."
Ivy walked calmly out of the room, and down the servants' stairs to the kitchens. Once there, however, she let out her frustration by jumping up and down. The servants paid no mind to her, as she often let out her anger in such a way. Mehri, Ivy's friend and the chef for the chateau, just sighed.
"What happened this time, Ivy dear?" she asked calmly.
Ivy told her story, and Mehri shook her head.
"That woman has those girls wrapped around her finger," she said, as she often did.
Ivy sighed, but felt much better. "What's for dinner?" she had barely said, when the bell rang that signaled there was company.
"Who would be coming at this time of day?" Mehri said, surprised.
Ivy shrugged. If they had known company was coming, her stepfamily would have certainly been talking about it all day. The servants listened as the door opened, and muffled voices were heard in the hall.
"You've caught us off guard, your highness, but I'm sure our chef can whip up something for you," came her stepmother's voice. Steps were heard on the stairs leading into the kitchen, and soon her stepmother appeared.
"It's the prince! Mehri, get something ready!" she ordered. She then saw Ivy. "Ivy, come retrieve the prince's cloak and prepare the parlor!"
Ivy nodded, quickly cleaned her dirty face, and walked up the stairs. She came out into the hall, but stopped and hid behind the door leading out. She ran her hands through her plaited but tangly, dark brown hair, which was mostly hid by a handkerchief. Taking a deep breath, she left the safety of the door.
She walked evenly toward the group. The prince was tall, and handsome, but looked very haughtily at everything around him. His hair was black and even from feet away, Ivy could tell his eyes were brown.
Curtsying, she asked softly, "May I take your cloak, your highness?" He looked down at her for a second, but said nothing. He removed his cloak and placed it in her outstretched arms.
As she was backing away, she heard him say, "I came to pay a visit to you and your lovely daughters, Duchess Catalina. I am sorry it comes unannounced."
"Oh your highness, you are welcome to come whenever you wish," Ivy heard her stepmother say in a high, false voice. She rolled her green eyes, and placed the prince's cloak in the sitting room. She then went to the parlor and flittered around, dusting various things, fluffing the pillows, and smoothing the couches and chairs. She also made a fire quickly. Satisfied, she went back out to the hall.
She waited for a break in the conversation, then hurried toward the group and said, curtsying, to her stepmother, "The parlor is ready, my lady."
"Thank you, Ivy," her stepmother said in her false voice. "Your highness, shall we go into the parlor?"
The prince nodded, and they walked to the parlor, the two sisters draping themselves off the prince, who didn't seem mind at all.
"Oh, Ivy, dear, don't leave, just in case the prince needs anything," her stepmother said.
Ivy was disgusted at the show they were putting on, but nodded and stayed in the corner. The prince was extremely arrogant, and Ivy's stepfamily was just feeding it. After what seemed to Ivy hours of boring, dull conversation, a servant came up and handed to her a tray of pastries that Mehri must have just whipped up from scratch. Ivy took the tray and offered it to the prince first.
"Your highness," she said, keeping her eyes down. He took a custard cream, and she moved on to her stepmother, who said, "Thank you Ivy, darling," as she took a custard cream, and Parveneh took a fruit tart.
Then, as Ivy moved on to Souzan, the cruel girl accidentally-on purpose moved her foot so that Ivy tripped, sending the tray flying. Ivy fell to the floor with a thud, narrowly missing hitting her head on the table. She hesitantly lifted her head from her position on the floor to see that the tray had landed on the prince. Frosting, pudding, raspberries, blueberries, and custard were all over his fine clothing, in his hair, and on his face.
"Your highness! I deeply apologize, she is an extremely clumsy girl, please allow me," the duchess was saying. The prince, seeming to recover from the shock, glared at Ivy with such intensity that she could only stand, sputtering, with her hands over her mouth.
"Well don't just stand there, you stupid girl! Go get something to clean this up!" her stepmother barked. Ivy nodded numbly, and ran from the room, tears starting to come down her face. She flew down the stairs to the kitchens, where Mehri took one look at her face, and went upstairs herself to clean up. Ivy just sat at the wooden table, crying her eyes out.