A/N: So to all out there who have favourited this and added it to their story alerts, please review! Even if it's just a little smiley face, I would be happy to know your still reading it :D

So, I've written five or six chapters in advance as unfortunately my exams are coming up! So if I haven't updated at all from maybe next week til the end of January, do not fear! I will update after that, once my horrible English exams are over :D

Enjoy!

When Morgana returned to her room she found Amelie waiting for her. She was perched on the end of her bed, her hands folded in her lap. She immediately stood when Morgana entered.

"No, no," Morgana said, closing the door behind her. "Please, sit."

"It is not my duty to sit on my Mistress' bed," Amelie replied, icily. "I shall stand and await my orders."

Morgana sighed, her eyes tearing up again. Amelie could see this but she ignored Morgana's pain. Why would she cry? She had nothing to cry over. Yes, the loss of her father was a terrible thing but she still had money and a roof over her head, she was still free to do as she pleased, unlike Amelie who was still the handmaiden, and still in the service of Morgana.

"Amelie, this is silly," Morgana tried to sound light and casual. "I am sorry if I treat you unfairly but I only ask of you, not order. You should know that."

"Requests are commands," the handmaiden said, not looking at Morgana. "Disguised by the cloak of politeness"

Morgana sighed and sat down on her bed, sinking into the soft mattress. Her room was one of ten guest rooms in the Salvatore mansion and it was decorated in such a way as to show the wealth of the family. Rich red velvet drapes hung from her four poster bed which was covered with pale blue satin sheets. There was a dressing table across from her bed holding all the cosmetic and toiletry needs a woman could want. There was also a writing desk and chair complete with paper and ink for her in the corner by the south facing window. There was also a floor to ceiling wardrobe with enough room to hold all her dresses and shoes which she was pleasantly surprised to find out. Amelie's quarters where down with the other staff and she dreaded to think what they would look like. At home, her father let Amelie sleep in an adjoining room to Morgana's which was furnished exactly like Morgana's room. Luxury for a handmaiden was not often seen in the South and Morgana's father was considered a kind and caring man to give his handmaiden such a room.

"Amelie, you do know I care for you," Morgana said, hesitantly. "And it is because I care for you that I do not want to hurt you, or see you hurt by another. I will request from Mr Salvatore that he gives you one of the guest rooms so you do not have to sleep in the staff quarters. If he refuses then I shall demand it. If again, he refuses, then I will buy you a four poster bed and you shall move in this room with me."

Amelie's eyes widened in shock and her mouth opened and closed like a stunned goldfish. She started forward and then stopped, composing herself into an indifferent state.

"Two cannot share one room," Amelie said, quietly. "There is simply not enough space."

"How much space does one girl need?"

Amelie tried to resist smiling but she couldn't. Morgana jumped up and pulled her into a hug which startled Amelie. She tried to hold back but Morgana's hug was warm and inviting, like she was hugging a family member, so Amelie tentatively wrapped her arms around Morgana and sunk into the blissful embrace.

Amelie laid out Morgana's dress for the Founder's Ball, wishing once again that she could attend. Morgana had assured her that she would ask Giuseppe to allow her to go but the only way that would happen was if she was serving with the other staff.

Not the first time in recent years, Amelie felt a sudden rush of hatred towards her mistress for the life she had. If things had just been slightly different, if she was the daughter of Aldrick Devereux and Morgana the daughter of a farmer, Amelie would be wearing the satin dresses and laughing with the aristocrats of Virginia. If only...

She brushed a stray lock of gold hair from her bonnet behind her ear and tried very hard to hold back the tears.

"Life could be worse, Amelie," she told herself. "You could be without a home or food, alone and desperate, like the other girls you've seen while walking with Morgana. Would you rather be like that than the handmaiden of her?"

Amelie shook her head and smoothed out the creases in the silver dress Morgana was to wear tonight. Morgana always dressed simply, nothing to elaborate on her dresses. A few patterns on the bodice, maybe a few gems or a flower, and her skirts were nothing fancy either. Only on her party dresses were they ruffled and scattered with glittering thread. Morgana was not a vain girl and dreaded anything too expensive. She did not want to be seen as another self obsessed daughter of another wealthy man. Amelie could at least find something decent in her.

There was a gentle knock on the door and Amelie's head snapped up. The door opened and the handmaiden of Katherine Pierce walked in. She closed the door behind her and stood there, her hands clasped in front of her and a shy smile on her dark face.

"I do not wish to disturb your work," she said in her soft voice. "I only want to introduce myself to you. It seems that we do not get a chance to speak in the quarters at night."

"That is very kind of you," Amelie replied. "I am Amelie Monroe, Miss Morgana's handmaiden."

"Emily Bennett, I am Miss Katherine's handmaiden if you were unsure."

Amelie nodded once and returned to the dress, smoothing out imaginary creases as she was unsure of how to handle the situation. She didn't have any friends before, the only person to talk to was Morgana and she could hardly talk freely without sounding out of turn. However lately, her tongue had been slipping but Morgana had no father to run to and with no father, there was no master to beat her.

"I have to warn you, Amelie," Emily said, her voice breaking slightly. "That Miss Morgana may be-"

Emily stopped, her lips pressing together as if she was thinking about whether to continue or not. Amelie looked up, interested when she heard her mistress' name and intrigued now Emily had cut herself off. She waited patiently for Emily to continue but she didn't, choosing to look around the room.

"Miss Katherine's room is not nearly as lovely as this," Emily commented. "Her window is not as big as this and is not facing the South so there is little sun to shine in."

"Miss Morgana is the daughter of Mr Salvatore's close friend," Amelie said, slightly sour. "It is only reasonable that she receive the best."

"Miss Katherine will not be pleased," Emily grinned.

"I have to ask, what were you about to say? You mentioned Miss Morgana."

Emily bit her bottom lip, her brown eyes shifting nervously around the room. Amelie found this odd in her as she seemed such a strong woman on her own. Whenever Amelie had seen her she was always very confident, he way she held her shoulders high, her face lifted and the sly grin she always wore. To see her now, nervous and possibly frightened was strange.

"It was meaningless," Emily said, dismissively. "It was nothing more than a comment on your mistress that was completely out of turn. I will not say it as I do not want to offend you or her."

Amelie nodded but she was sure there was more to it than a mere insult. But she did not want to question Emily further as she may be the only true friend she had here in Mystic Falls. She decided to put it behind her and worry about it later, and engaged in a conversation with Emily about the downfalls of servitude. When Emily left an hour later to prepare Miss Katherine for the ball, it was with a sad smile and a promise of more talk at dinner that evening.

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