Chapter Five
Antoniette
Daria stared at a girl her age, who sat on her humongous canopy bed that was filled with frilly, satin pillows.
The girl was beautiful, that was for sure. She very much looked like her mother with her lovely, golden hair. She also had the same classical nose, the same smooth and fair skin, and the same slender body. The only difference was the eyes. She had her father's eyes. They were of a smoky grey colour, with long lashes that she always batted whenever her eyes fell upon a handsome, rich man.
She was dressed in an everyday gown. It looked like Daria's, but was way more elegant, of course. Daria's dress was made out of plain cotton, while hers was made out of fine silk. The top and skirt were also sewn together by the waist, and had a lilac shade. The top was very tight, and it had a low, square neckline that was edged with white lace. The long sleeves gradually flared, and their hems ended with white lace as well.
Last of all, was her jewellery. The girl wore a gold necklace with small, pale pink stones on it. On her left wrist was a gold bracelet with three, small charms on it. One charm was shaped into a heart, one was shaped into a butterfly, and the other one was shaped into a letter A. Daria remembered her own bracelet, and felt anger. She clenched her fists (like always), and tried to control herself.
"So, you're my handmaiden," the girl said as she examined Daria with her dazzling eyes.
Daria met the girl's steady gaze. "Yes, I am."
"You may call me Lady Antoniette," the girl said arrogantly, "and I expect courtesy and respect from you. Do you understand, wench?"
"My name is Daria," Daria muttered under her breath.
"What did you say?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Yes, I heard you say something."
"Then you heard wrong."
"Don't shout back, you goon!"
"I wasn't shouting."
"Yes, you were! Shut up!" Antoniette reached for a pillow, and threw it towards Daria with all her might. The pillow missed Daria completely, and she didn't even move a muscle. Daria struggled not to laugh. Perhaps this girl would amuse her life.
"I am here to serve you," Daria remarked. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh.
"Is that so?" Antoniette said angrily. "Well, you can start by brushing my hair."
"As you wish," Daria said. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. "Where is your brush?"
Antoniette gestured towards her vanity table. "It's somewhere there," she said.
Daria headed towards the vanity table, where she found many bottles of perfume and scented oils. There were hand creams and body lotion as well.
Daria found the brush in one of the drawers. She took it out, and headed towards her mistress.
"You better be gentle," Antoniette said. Her voice was filled with venom. "Many girls envy my hair."
"Don't worry," Daria said.
"And another thing," Antoniette said, "I want you to say 'my lady' at the end of every sentence, whenever you are talking to me. Is that clear, girl?"
Perhaps this girl wasn't so amusing after all.
"Yes," Daria said.
"Pardon me?" Antoniette said with a fake, sweet voice.
"Yes, my lady," Daria said. She felt as if she was addressing Lady Valene once again.
"That's better, dear," Antoniette said with the same sweetness.
Don't say 'dear' to me, you vain wench, Daria thought. We are of the same age.
"Keep brushing my hair until I tell you to stop. All right, dear?"
Shut up, shut up, shut up. "Yes, my lady."
"You learn quickly."
"Thank you."
"Pardon me?"
"Thank you, my lady."
"That's better, dear."
Shut up.
"She is so…demanding," Daria said. "She made me brush her hair for three hours straight, and I'm not exaggerating."
"Only three hours?" Clarisse said. "Then she was in a very happy mood today."
"Do you mean that she can get worse?" Daria said, hardly believing her ears.
Clarisse nodded. "She can be muchworse, and she will be, dear."
"Ugh!" Daria said. "That annoyed me to."
"What annoyed you?"
"She kept on saying 'dear' at the end of her sentences. I don't mind if you say it since you're older, but the wench has the same age as me! Clarisse, I'm sorry for sounding so cruel, but that girl gets in my nerves!"
"You are a feisty one," Clarisse said, amused. "But I like you. I agree with you about Lady Antoniette. Her last handmaiden only survived for five days. She's also very fussy with her dresses, you know. Whenever she sees a very tiny spot on her dress, she tells me to wash it all over again. It has happened so many times that it's like a routine now. Also, she changes her everyday gown three times a day. She gets it from her mother. The two are alike."
Daria sighed.
"Do you regret being here?" Clarisse asked.
"Definitely not!" Daria said immediately. "Not at all. That wench is hard to handle, but I won't let her get to me. I like this household, and I want to stay here."
Clarisse smiled. "That's the spirit."
It was 11:45 at night. Other than Antoniette's handmaiden, Daria was the serving maid, kitchen maid, and laundress helper as well. The pile of her chores was almost as large as the pile she got at Lady Valene's manor.
Daria climbed on her bed, and sighed happily. It was so comfortable and soft. She closed her eyes, and was ready to fall into a blissful sleep……
Oh, you've got to be kidding, Daria thought as the bell that hanged on the wall rattled loudly. Why isn't that wench asleep?
The bell kept on ringing. Daria groaned, rose from her cozy bed, and put on her robe.
She tiredly headed over to her mistress' room. When she reached the door, she knocked very loudly.
"Come in," came a singsong voice.
Daria almost banged the door open with her annoyance. She entered the room, and gave the most absurd curtsy. Don't snap at her, she told herself.
"Ah, my handmaiden," Antoniette said.
That's who I am, unfortunately.
"I can't sleep."
That's not my problem, Daria thought. Of course, she didn't say that aloud. Instead, she said flatly, "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You're forgetting something, dear."
Daria cursed in her mind. "Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?"
"Yes, there is," Antoniette said. "Give me a foot massage."
You've got to be kidding. "Pardon me…my lady?"
"Give me a foot massage," Antoniette said impatiently. "Are you deaf, wench?"
"No, but it's almost 12:00," Daria said. Has this girl gone mad?
Antoniette gave the sweetest and fakest smile. "That's not my problem, dear."
Oh, shut up, Daria thought. Then she sighed in defeat, marched over to her mistress, and pulled the girl's slippers off. She suddenly smelled a sweet and stuffy aroma.
"Use one of the scented oils," Antoniette commanded. "They're very soothing to the feet."
Daria nodded, and headed over to the vanity table. There were so many bottles of oils, but she didn't even bother to ask Antoniette which was the preferred one. She just picked the very first one she saw, which was a clear bottle with pale yellow oil inside it.
Daria sat down near her mistress, and put a small amount of scented oil on her hand. Then she took a very deep breath. She had never given a foot massage before. She slowly placed her hands on the musty-smelling foot (she saw that a little bit of dirt had gathered in between the toes), and began to massage gently.
This is disgusting, she thought immediately.
Daria yawned. She was back in her room, and it was almost 1:00 in the morning. She would only get five hours of sleep because her work started at 6:30 in the morning. Since Antoniette would be asleep until about ten in the morning, Daria's job was to help Clarisse, or set the table for breakfast, or help Tabbitha (the cook).
Massaging Antoniette's feet was disgusting. Daria shuddered at the thought of it. She never ever wanted to do that job again.
But she knew that it would be unavoidable.
There was a light knock of the door.
"Time to wake up, Daria," a voice said. It was Clarisse's.
Daria groaned silently. "All right, Clarisse," she said. Then she heard Clarisse walk away. Soon, her silent footsteps were gone.
Daria rose from her bed in a bad mood. She felt as if she had only gotten fifteen minutes of sleep.
She changed into the same dress since Clarisse still had to make the other dresses. After she untangled her dark hair with a comb that was given by Clarisse, she headed down to the kitchen. Tabbitha was the only one there, and she was bringing out the items and ingredients that she needed to make breakfast. She had to make different kinds of food because Sir Davy said that he wanted to have a lot of choices. This request was said long ago, and Tabbitha was now used to making a lot of food.
"Get seven eggs from the henhouse, Daria," Tabbitha said.
"All right," Daria said. She headed out the back door, and when she stepped into the early morning air, she was greeted by a chilly breeze.
Daria shivered. She ran to the henhouse, carefully placed the seven eggs from Orva, Heiza, Banzy, Thela, Frara, and Izi in the basket she carried, and rushed back into the kitchen.
"Here," Daria said as she placed the basket on the table. Her cheeks were flushed by the cold.
"Thank you," Tabbitha said. She was frying some sausages. "You can set the table."
Daria set the table last night, so she knew what to do. She took out three fancy plates from a cabinet, three spoons, three forks, and three knives from a drawer, and three goblets from another cabinet. Then she headed to the medium-size dining room, and placed the goblets, utensils, and plates on the everyday table.
Daria returned to the kitchen. "Is there anything else, Tabbitha?" she asked politely.
Tabbitha shook her head. "There's nothing else…for now," she said. "Why don't you go to Clarisse? She's in the laundry room."
Daria nodded. "All right."
"Last night, at around 12:00 at night, Lady Antoniette ordered me to massage her feet," Daria said as she placed dirty clothes in the washtub. "It was disgusting…her feet, I mean."
"Did she really?" Clarisse said. She didn't sound surprised.
"I slept at around 1:00," Daria replied bitterly.
"Don't admit defeat," Clarisse said. "It will only amuse her. I think her hobby is to annoy and drive away as much handmaidens as she can."
"I'm not the type of person who gives up," Daria assured her.
Clarisse smiled. "I know you're not."
The kitchen had servant's bells that were lined up in a row, just like Afrella's kitchen. However, instead of eleven bells, there were only nine. Antoniette's bell was the sixth one. (Daria had the strong urge to rip it off the wall when she saw it.)
Antoniette's bell rang at around 10:05 in the morning. Lovely. Daria sighed, and knew that the call was for certainly her. She went up the stairs (as slow as she dared), walked through the hallway, and knocked on Antoniette's door.
"Come in," came the same, singsong voice.
Daria entered the door, and gave a small curtsy. "Yes…my lady?"
Antoniette beamed. "Oh, how marvellous! You finally learned!" She was still lying on her bed.
Lazy wench."What can I do for you…my lady?" Daria's tongue burned every time she said those two annoying words.
"I wish to eat my breakfast in bed," Antoniette replied with that same sweet smile of hers. She yawned. "I don't feel like getting up."
"All right." Daria turned.
"Halt," Antoniette commanded. She lost the sweetness in her voice.
Daria sighed, but Antoniette did not see or hear her. She turned back to her mistress. "Yes?"
"You forgot to say the magic words. You must remember in that thick skull of yours that I am your superior."
Daria prayed for patience. After a pause, she mumbled, "I apologize…my lady."
"Good girl," Antoniette said. The sweetness returned. "I want an omelette, two sausages, and orange juice."
"As you wish…my lady." Daria did not bother to curtsy. She quickly walked away before Antoniette could stop her again.
"Here you go…my lady," Daria said. She pulled the two stands from underneath the wooden tray, and the tray turned into a small table that was supposed to be placed above the lap if the user was sitting on bed.
Antoniette did not thank her. She stared at her food. "What is this?" she said.
"I think it's your breakfast," Daria replied, "but I could be wrong."
Antoniette didn't notice Daria's sarcasm. She also didn't notice that Daria omitted the "my lady" part. "I only want egg whites in my omelette," she said.
"You didn't say so earlier," Daria said. She was irritated.
"Well, I must have forgotten," Antoniette said. She giggled girlishly. "Take it back, dear."
Daria fought the urge to slap the girl on the face. "Of course."
Antoniette raised her perfectly-plucked eyebrow. "Of course…?"
"Of course, my lady," Daria muttered. She took the plate.
"There are only egg whites this time, my lady," Daria said. She placed the newly-cooked omelette on the table tray. "And Tabbitha says to just keep on sending the plate back until you're satisfied. She doesn't mind one bit." Actually, Tabbitha started to mutter curses under her breath when Daria returned with the plate.
"Ah, this is much better," Antoniette said. She reached for her cup, and took a sip of orange juice. Her face changed to disgust.
"Is there something wrong…my lady?" Daria said with pretend concern. She didn't care one bit if there was a dead fly in that drink.
"This orange juice has pulp!" Antoniette cried. Her faced looked as if she just drank a large barrel of spoiled milk.
Yes, let's all shed tears because of it, Daria thought.
"Take this…thing back!" Antoniette ordered.
What limited vocabulary you have. "Yes, my lady," Daria said, taking the cup.
"Here you go," Daria said as she placed the cup on the table tray. "There is absolutely no pulp in it."
"There better not be," Antoniette said. She took a small sip. Then she wrinkled her perfect nose. "Ugh! It's too sour!" She handed the glass to Daria. "Add more water to it."
Over my dead body.Daria struggled really hard to maintain steady composure.
"Yes…my lady," she said. Her voice was shaking with anger, but Antoniette, being the ignorant girl as she is, did not notice.
"Here you go, my lady," Daria said stiffly. She placed the cup on Antoniette's table tray.
Antoniette took the cup, raised it to her lips, and sipped very slowly. "Ah," she said right after, "this is much better. Now, I can finally eat my breakfast." At a snail's pace, she cut her sausage. (Daria almost fell asleep.) Then she placed a dainty piece in her mouth. Once she did, she furrowed her wonderfully-shaped eyebrows, and Daria groaned in her mind. She knew what was coming.
"Ugh!" Antoniette cried as she pushed the plate away from her. "This sausage is still raw!"
Daria was already imagining Tabbitha's reaction. "Shall I take it back, my lady?" she asked.
"Is that even a question? Of course, you dimwit!"
Daria whisked the plate away, and furiously marched out of the room. She went down the stairs in a bad temper, calling the wench many names in her mind at the same time.
She saw Clarisse in the kitchen. She gave Daria a smile, not knowing what was going on.
"Clarisse," Daria said in rage, "do you know where I can get ground passiflora?"
Clarisse just laughed.
A/N:
Ground passiflora makes people fall asleep. You can find it on page 170 of "Ella Enchanted." The book has a front cover of a brown-haired girl in a dark green dress. By the way, did you know that there's going to be a movie based on Ella Enchanted? I don't think I'll be seeing it. They changed a lot of things. Anyway, don't forget to submit a review!