A/N: I had a hypocrite epiphany today. I come home from school everyday and check my favorite fics to see if anyone's updated, and grow increasingly angry when then chapter number stays the same! I realized that that's how many of you must feel… so here you go. By the way, I've written up to chapter seventeen, and we've got some interesting stuff going on!!
Ellafreak- I would love to answer your questions, but you'll just have to wait and see! Thank you for reviewing so faithfully! You wrote my 50th review!
Chapter Eleven
My first day at the palace was overwhelming. When I reached the gates, I was directed to the side of the castle, and through the kitchen. So much for a grand entrance. The kitchen was wide and long, full of tables, ovens, and sinks full of water. Pans and spoons hung from the ceiling, and flour littered the floor.
A frizzy-haired woman walked up to me. "Are you the new servant?" she asked in a raspy voice.
"Um, yes," I replied. So much for a forceful impression.
She nodded. "Alright," she said. "My name is Betsy, and I run this palace. You're to be a cleaning servant in the royal family's apartments. You will work hard all day until your job is done, and then you may leave. Wages are given at the end of the week."
"Okay," I said meekly. It wasn't that I was intimidated, I just didn't know how to respond. This woman ordered me around with no feeling. I'd been ordered around before by my family, but they did it passionately and enjoyed it. I wasn't sure how to react to Betsy.
Betsy began walking up a spindly set of stairs and through a maze of skinny hallways I assumed were used only by servants. We came upon a large, tall door that she opened slowly and peeked through. What is she doing? She flung the door open and walked into the corridor.
"This is the door to the royal apartments," Betsy said, pointing to a set of double doors with the Kyrrian royal seal over them. "Go, and come to me in the kitchen when you're finished."
"Of course," I said, curtsying. "Thank you."
She just walked away. I shrugged and wandered to the door. Apprehensively, I opened the door. Inside was a fantastic two-story foyer with an elaborate crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. As I explored and cleaned more and more, I found the apartments to have four bedrooms, three sitting rooms, a library, a dining room, and a meeting room. But since I wasn't at the palace to observe lavish decorations, I scrubbed, dusted, swept, and buffed the ornate furnishings and decorative knick knacks. I snooped through a few pieces of parchment to find a few pieces of information for Jerrold, but my plan was to be discreet and keep my questions to myself, as well as not do anything extreme, like listen to conversations or steal… just yet.
At the end of my day, I found my way to the kitchen and reported to Betsy. "You may go then," she said, looking me over.
"…They're planning a new castle-manor in Bast, a series of balls for midsummer, and they know you're leading the revolution," I told Jerrold that night.
"Okay," he said, eyes closed.
"All right," I replied, walking away.
"Wait, Daria," Jerrold said, grabbing my arm. It as the first time he'd touched me since we'd fought in Ayorthia. "Thank you, for um, doing this. I means, um- a lot to me. I mean to us- the men and boys."
I smiled; I couldn't help it. "My pleasure, Jerrold," I said.
As I walked away, I was mentally scolding myself. My pleasure, is it? Why'd I saw that? It's not my pleasure! It's Jerrold! I must admit, although I was very confused, I was really happy too. But why?
My days at the palace blended together. I'd report everyday, clean the royal family's apartments, do some exploring and snooping, and then leave. Once I'd walked in on the King and Queen in the library. They were having a heated discussion, and looked my way when they heard the door opened.
"Beg pardon, majesties," I said quickly, curtsying. I prayed the king and queen wouldn't recognize me from my sister's wedding. Luckily, with the dirty cloth on my head and ashes all over my face, the king just said, "Get out of here, lass." I was more than happy to do so.
I shut the door, but pressed my ear to it to listen to their argument. They were fighting about what castle to move to next. Something so trivial! I walked away, disappointed.
That was the first time I'd seen King Ludwig and Queen Drusilla up close. The king was tall and lanky, with a developing belly. He was tanned and had uncombed, greasy hair. His face was rubbed red and raw. Lucky for Jerrold, he looked more like his mother. Queen Drusilla's angular face was much harsher than Jerrold's, but she had his soft gray eyes. Her lips were always pursed, giving her a haughty, cruel look. She was short, squat, and had a raspy, yet nasally voice and frazzled red hair.
Finally, after about a month after I started working, my explorations led me to the castle's dungeons. While in a semi-abandoned wing of the castle, I came across a thick, wooden door. I pulled it opened silently. Lit by two torches were a set of spiral stairs. I uncertainly crept down the stairs until I came across a long, dirty corridor with small patches of sunlight streaming through barred windows and doors. I scrambled down the grimy corridor quietly, until I accidentally kicked a pile of chains.
"Who's there?" called a defiant and familiar voice.
I gasped. "Roan?" I squeaked.
"Daria!" the voice replied.
I found myself running towards the sound of Roan's voice, and fell to my knees in front of their cell. Iris sat on her knees, hands on the bars, facing me. Roan crawled across the cell, wincing and cringing, and sat against the cell wall, panting. They were both filthy, wearing the same clothes I saw them last in. Iris looked distraught, but okay. Roan was a different story. He had a black eye, and his breeches were caked in dry blood. His lip was split and swollen, and his arms were covered in bruises.
"What happened to you?" I asked, choking on my tears.
Roan laughed bitterly. "I made the mistake of fighting a guard a few days ago," he said. "I would have won too, but then more of them showed up."
I placed my hand on his arm. He grimaced, and I pulled it away.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"No, I'm sorry," Roan replied.
"We think his leg is broken," explained Iris.
"I'm fine," Roan retorted. "Tell me about the revolution."
"Well," I said, "Jerrold and I continued to Ayorthia and got their support. To do so, however, he had to reveal that he was prince of Kyrria."
Roan nodded and looked at Iris. "I figured he'd have to," he said. Iris nodded in agreement.
"You knew?" I cried.
Iris nodded. "He told us, but we couldn't tell anyone," she said.
I protested. "But you told me-"
"That we didn't know because we couldn't tell anyone," said Roan, growing irritable. "Are you planning war?"
I shrugged. "Jerrold is 'waiting for something,'" I explained.
Roan nodded. "I understand," he replied.
"How are you treated?" I asked, looking around at their grimy cell. The floor was covered in straw, and there was a thin pallet in the corner.
"We're surviving," said Iris. They explained that they got three small meals a day. When they arrived, they had been interrogated separately, but said nothing. King Ludwig and Queen Drusilla were keeping them as some kind of prisoner or ransom. They weren't sure.
I stayed with them for most of the day, until I noticed the sky getting dark. "I must go," I said to them. "But I'll return."
"Goodbye Daria," said Iris, squeezing my hand.
I bent over and kissed Roan's head through the bars. "Daria," he said seriously, "take care of yourself. Watch out for Jerrold. He needs you more than you think."
A/N: I told you Roan and Iris would appear soon! Please humor me and review. If you've never reviewed before, I'd love to know that you're reading. Please. Please. Please. The more reviews I get… the faster I'd update…?