A/N:

Thank you sooooooo much for your reviews (especially Miss Piratess!)!!! I really really really appreciate them.

Chapter Six

New Encounters

One week later…

"Oh, isn't it exciting?!" Antoniette said happily. She clapped her hands.

Very, Daria thought sarcastically. Antoniette just told her that a ball was going to be held in the manor's hall within two weeks. The ball was to honour her birthday. That only meant more work for Daria.

"It is, my lady," she murmured as she tried not to sound uninterested. "How old are you turning?"

"Sixteen, dear," Antoniette said.

This wench is almost four months younger than me. "I see…who are invited, my lady?"

"Everyone, of course, you blockhead," Antoniette said as she rolled her eyes. "My parents can afford it. Even Prince Jerrold is invited."

Ah, the prince of Kyrria. Daria wanted nothing to do with him.

"Keep brushing, wench!" Antoniette commanded. "I want my hair to shine."

Daria restrained from yanking the golden locks off the scalp.

Like the other servants, Daria was busy for the next two weeks. She was a handmaiden, serving maid, kitchen maid, and laundress helper, but during the two-week period, she was also told to clean the manor.

Daria found herself scrubbing the hall's floor three days before the ball. Memories flooded her once more. Her hands stung fiercely because of the lye that was mixed with the cool water. After the hard, demanding task, her frail hands were rough, raw, and bleeding.

Antoniette's bell rang loudly in the huge kitchen that was now filled with delicious, mouth-watering food for the ball. The visitors were to arrive in three hours. Daria groaned and rose from her stool.

"Her ladyship wants to look her best," Clarisse remarked, half-amused.

"I'm not surprised. After all, she is vain," Daria replied. "I'll see you later, Clarisse."

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

Daria left the kitchen, ready as ever to face her mistress. She passed the hall that was now sparkling clean. She boldly walked up the stairs, as slow as she dared.

When she reached Antoniette's door, she knocked. The rhythm and volume of her knocking expressed her annoyance.

But of course, it was unnoticed.

"Come in, dear," Antoniette said.

Daria entered and saw that Antoniette was done with her hot bath. Her ladyship was in an elegant robe, and she was sitting by the vanity table.

"Comb my hair," Antoniette said. "I want all the girls to envy me tonight."

Oh, how typical of you to say that, Daria thought. She picked up the ivory comb that rested on the table, and started to untangle Antoniette's wavy, blond hair.

"I hope Prince Jerrold notices me tonight," Antoniette said. She sighed dreamily.

Don't snort. Don't snort. Don't snort. "He surely will, my lady," Daria said. What a good actress and charmer I am.

"I am beautiful," Antoniette said, as if she was stating a well-known fact. "Why shouldn't he notice me?"

How humble of you to say that.

"Anyway, wench, I want you to remain unseen. Do not serve the food. Is that clear?"

"All right..." Daria said slowly. She frowned. She thought that the urgent sound of her mistress's voice was unusual, but she was more than willing to obey her command. She didn't want to be seen by those wealthy lads and lasses. She despised them more than she ever did.

"How many gentlemen do you suppose will ask me to dance?"

"Dozens," Daria replied. Just keep on charming her.

"I think so too," Antoniette said seriously. "After all, I am beautiful."

Good heavens. This girl is vainer than I thought.

An hour later, Antoniette's golden hair was fixed marvellously by a hairdresser, with Daria as the assistant.

First of all, the hairdresser gathered the top-half of Antoniette's hair. (Two thin locks flowed down at the sides of her face.) Next, the hairdresser twisted the heap of hair into a sleek and elaborate bun, and then secured it neatly with gold ornaments. The rest of Antoniette's hair cascaded down her back.

After the hairdresser left, Antoniette changed into her gown, which was (of course) very elegant. It was made out of sky-blue silk with a square neckline. The skirt had a huge bow that followed the graceful flow of the gown's train. Flower patterns of a darker blue were embroidered on the gown.

Last of all, Antoniette wore a gold necklace with sapphire stones, and the same bracelet with the three charms.

Antoniette admired herself by the mirror. "I'd be delighted to dance with you, Prince Jerrold," she said with a syrupy voice. She curtsied and giggled at her beautiful reflection.

Daria tried hard not to roll her eyes.

"I'll be so much surprised if the prince doesn't start courting me after this ball," Antoniette said. "I am simply irresistible."

And undesirable, Daria added in her head.

Then the enormous clock by the Frellan palace struck seven. The ball was supposed to begin at 7:30.

As if on cue, the bell chimed.

Antoniette clapped her hands. "There's my first guest!" she cried excitedly. "You can hide in the kitchen," she said to Daria.

Daria shrugged and left.

Loud chatters and merry laughter came from the hall. Daria could plainly hear from the kitchen, and was annoyed. Why couldn't these young folk talk and be merry in a lower voice?

The loud music produced by the orchestra added more to her splitting headache. She could just imagine what was happening now…gentlemen gathering up the courage to approach dazzling maidens. Antoniette was probably already on the dance floor now, in the arms of a handsome (and rich) one.

There were at least fifty guests, all richly dressed. Young ladies were in their fancy gowns and finest jewellery, and young gentlemen were in their best breeches and doublets.

Daria was busy making fun of the guests in her mind when Bessie, a very short serving maid, entered the kitchen breathlessly.

"Daria, will you please help me bring out the roast hart and quail eggs?" she pleaded.

"Oh, I can't," Daria said apologetically. She truly was sorry. "Lady Antoniette ordered me not to show my face."

Bessie frowned. "That is a strange order," she said, as if she didn't believe Daria. "She never said anything like that before." She shrugged. "Never mind, I'll manage."

She scurried away with the tray of quail eggs.

Daria sat alone in the kitchen that was still full of hard-to-make food. Tabbitha worked hard over the past two weeks to make these dishes, and Daria proudly helped. It reminded her of the pleasant but rare days with Afrella.

"Daria?"

Daria snapped out of her thoughts. She turned and saw Ophelia, another serving maid.

"Yes?"

"Lady Antoniette just commanded me to tell you something…" Her voice trailed off.

"What is it?" Daria frowned.

"Well, it's very dreadful…"

"If it's from Lady Antoniette, it no doubt is," Daria said bitterly. "I'm all ears."

Ophelia hesitated.

"You can tell me," Daria assured.

"Well…a guest spilled lime juice near the dance floor, and Lady Antoniette wants you to clean it up."

Daria laughed. "Is that it?" she asked. "I've heard more awful commands."

"Actually…no," Ophelia said. "It's not just that."

"Really?"

"Really…she…uh…sh—she commands you to rub a lot of ash and dirt all over your face and dress before you show yourself. She—"

"Over my dead body!" Daria shouted. Thankfully, the shout wasn't loud enough to be heard by the sensitive ears of the guests. She saw Ophelia wince, and her face softened. "I'm sorry," she apologized to the timid woman. "I wasn't mad at you."

Ophelia's smile was uncertain. "I know," she said. She nervously fumbled her fingers.

Daria sighed. "Anyway, tell her ladyship that I am not going to do that."

"Uh, you have to," Ophelia said, her voice cracking with nervousness.

Daria lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? I have to?"

Ophelia nodded. "She says that if you don't do this, you will lose your job."

A creative series of curses and swear words followed, which all came from Daria's mouth. Ophelia cringed, but said nothing.

Finally, Daria was able to calm herself. She didn't want to lose her job. Yes, she would be destroying her dignity, but she liked being with everyone in the household (especially thoughtful Clarisse, humorous Phil, and sweet little Fauna).

She sighed angrily. "Fine," she said viciously, "I'll do it."

Ophelia nodded. "It is a very eccentric command, but you are doing the right thing."

Daria just shrugged, too angry to speak. She headed over to the fireplace, where there were grey and black ashes from the previous fire. She grasped a handful in her hand. She wrinkled her nose as she stared at the handful of foul soot.

"This is disgusting," she said. She turned to Ophelia, whose face had a look of pure sympathy.

"At least she didn't ask you to use dung," she joked weakly.

Daria forced herself to laugh. Then she took a deep breath, and smeared the dirt all over her face and neck. She grasped another handful of soot, and smeared it on her very simple, pale blue (almost white) dress.

"What do you think?" Daria asked afterwards.

"I—I think…I think…"

"I look horrifying," Daria said bitterly.

"No, you don't," Ophelia said. She was unconvincing.

Daria sighed angrily. "I'll just get this over with," she said. She grabbed an old rag from the sink, bravely marched out of the protection of the kitchen, and headed for the hall.

That girl is going to pay, she thought viciously as she marched to the battlefield. She better watch out.

When Daria showed herself in front of Antoniette's guests, almost every rich being in sight turned to her. There were many girls whose pretty, fair faces showed disgust. Daria just secretly hated them inside.

Daria hid her clenched fists in the folds of her skirt. These people were her age, yet her life compared to theirs was galaxies apart. She tried not to glare at them as she walked towards the dance floor, in search for the spill.

A couple of minutes later, she found nothing, not even a single drop, and everyone in the hall was already talking rudely and loudly about her revolting appearance.

Daria glanced at the dance floor and saw that Antoniette was in the arms of a young man with brown, tawny curls. He was handsomely dressed in an impressive doublet and breeches. She patiently waited at the side for her.

Finally, the music ended, and Daria marched over to her mistress, ignoring all those steady orbs that followed her every move. When she reached her mistress, she put on a face of barely controlled anger.

"My lady," Daria said, her voice shaking, "I think you are mistaken. I found no spill." She tried really hard to hide her rage and not explode. She wasn't a dimwit. She knew that there was never a spill, and Antoniette just wanted her guests to see her in this filthy, hideous state.

"Goodness! I am terribly sorry for the mistake," Antoniette said apologetically. She was a good actress—the sorry look on her striking face was believable. Her smoky grey eyes showed fake regret.

"I'll be going," Daria muttered. She started to walk away.

"Wait!" Antoniette said.

Daria turned back. "Yes…my lady?" She was tempted not to say "my lady," but she knew that Antoniette would make her pay after her guests leave.

"I wish to introduce you to my dance partner," Antoniette said sweetly. She clung on the young man's arm.

Daria didn't care if she was dancing with a frog. "Please do so," she said with pretend interest.

Antoniette smiled. "Daria,"—that was the first time she said that—"meet Prince Jerrold."

Daria's eyes travelled to the handsome, young man with the curly hair. She saw that he had brown eyes and tiny freckles on his nose. His swarthy face had sharp angles, and Daria knew that he must look dangerous whenever he was angry and incredibly stern if he was at a serious state. However, he was smiling right now, and that made a huge difference.

She gave him her best curtsy, only because he was part of royalty. "I'm pleased to meet you, your Majesty," she said politely. In truth, she wasn't pleased at all. She didn't want to exchange words with this soon-to-be-extremely-powerful man.

The prince gave a deep and respectful bow, to Daria's surprise. "The pleasure is mine, my lady," he said with a round and deep voice. He grinned.

You're a good actor, I give you that, Daria said to the prince in her mind. She knew that inside, the prince was laughing at her ghastliness. She felt moist ash trickle down her cheek.

Daria's eyes travelled to Antoniette, who had a look of pure triumph on her face.

"You may leave," Antoniette said. All she wanted was for Daria to feel disgraced and to see her next to the future ruler of Kyrria.

Daria nodded and walked away.

Daria returned to the kitchen, fuming. She clenched her fists, unclenched them, and then clenched them again.

Clarisse, who just entered the kitchen, turned to see the sixteen-year-old's face, neck, and dress entirely covered with ash. "Daria!" she cried in horror. "What happened?"

"That…that wench told me to dirty myself and to clean up this spill," Daria said, almost shouting. She felt an urge to start smashing plates, like she did back in Lady Valene's manor. "But when I got there, I found out that there was no spill. She just wanted me to be humiliated in front of those…those people."

"That devil!" Clarisse cried angrily. "How dare she! Why did you obey, Daria? Why did you go along with it?"

Daria sighed impatiently. "She threatened me. She told me that if I didn't do it, I would lose my job."

Clarisse exploded, calling Antoniette more names. Despite the anger she felt, Daria smiled at the woman's outburst. "Clarisse, please calm down."

Clarisse stopped, but not before she muttered "That vixen" under her breath.

"I'm going to clean up," Daria said wearily.

"You do that."

Daria was about to leave the kitchen when she suddenly heard a soft chuckle. It came from Clarisse. She frowned.

"What's so funny?" she asked, her temper threatening to rise again. Was Clarisse laughing at her?

"Oh, I'm not laughing at you, Daria," Clarisse assured. "It's just that…I can only think of one reason on why Antoniette had demanded you to do that."

Daria frowned. "What is it?"

"She's feels threatened," Clarisse said simply.

"Threatened? By me? Why?"

Clarisse laughed. "Oh, Daria! Don't act so modest! Haven't you looked in the mirror lately?"

Daria's frown deepened. She seriously did not know what Clarisse was talking about. "Clarisse…I—I still don't understand," she said weakly. She felt stupid.

Clarisse gave her a look. After a pause, she spoke with a small smile. "Daria," she said gently, "your looks surpass hers. Now go tidy up."

Daria left, still as dazed and confused as ever. Antoniette was beautiful; that she would admit. She couldn't be prettier than Antoniette. She herself deemed it impossible.

After Daria tidied herself and changed into another simple dress, she went out the back door, and greeted the weeping wind. It was unpleasantly cold since it was late October, but she did not care.

She decided to head for Phil's infamous rose bushes, where roses of pink, red, and white colour grew.

When she turned the corner, she was startled to see a girl there, about a year or two younger than her. Daria instantly knew that she was one of Antoniette's guests, based on the girl's magnificent gown.

"I'm sorry, my lady," Daria said. "I did not expect to see anyone here." Back off wench, this is my territory.

The girl smiled. "That's all right."

"Good night." Daria was about to leave.

"Oh, please don't," the girl pleaded. "Don't leave just because I'm here."

Daria stopped. She turned to the girl. "If you do not mind me asking, what are you doing here, my lady?"

"Please call me Eleanor," the girl said. Her smile looked sincere, but Daria knew that some people were just good pretenders. "I came here to rest my ears. Sometimes, music and chatter can be so loud." She gazed admiringly at the roses.

Daria didn't give her name. She just took this time to observe the girl. They slightly looked the same. They had the same hair colour and bone structure, but the rest was different. The girl's eyes were the greenest green, she was a couple of inches shorter than Daria, she had straight hair while Daria's was wavy, and she had the loveliest complexion, as if her skin was porcelain. Daria was more tanned since she slaved under the sun back when she was at Lady Valene's manor.

"I don't really like Antoniette," Eleanor said suddenly.

That's one thing we have in common, Daria thought.

Eleanor turned to her and smiled sheepishly. "I only came here for the food."

Daria said nothing. She had no intention on befriending this girl who had a heavenly and trouble-free life. How she loathed her.

Eleanor went on. "I saw her dance many times with Prince Jerrold," she said. "Her fake smile never left her face that I began to wonder if it was permanently frozen there. I'm pretty sure she asked him to dance and not the other way around. Her flirtatious behaviour irritates me. "

"You shouldn't complain," Daria said coldly. "You don't have to put up with her everyday."

Eleanor was startled. "I—I'm sorry," she stammered. "I—I forgot that you live here."

Daria nodded curtly. "I'm her handmaiden."

Eleanor gave her a look of sympathy. After a pause, she startled and infuriated Daria with an unexpected question.

"Do you have a family?" she asked.

"I did not know that it was custom for guests to ask servants such offensive questions," Daria retorted.

Eleanor reddened. "I—I apologize," she said. "It's just that…uh…n—never mind."

Daria resisted the urge to slap the girl. "If you must know," she said, "I don't have a family. I have no one." The tone of her voice was murderous.

Eleanor gave her a sympathetic look. "I know what you are going through," she said gently. "I understand. I truly do." She placed her hand on Daria's shoulder, intending to comfort her.

Daria instantly stepped away. "No, you don't," she replied sharply, her voice full of emotion. "You are ignorant. You are oblivious to how cruel the world can be. You think that you understand. You see the pain of others…but you do not feel even the slightest prick."

Eleanor was about to interrupt with her sincere apologies, but Daria didn't let her.

"Your heart deceives you," she growled at the stricken girl. "It tells you that you do understand the life of the unfortunate, but you will never understand unless you experience the torment. No…you will never know what I am going through, unless you feel the same pain and the same suffering."

"I—"

"Please excuse me, my lady," Daria interrupted with a sneer. "I must take my share in the chores. If you wish to, return to all the dancing and laughing and enjoyment."

She left the dumbfounded girl without another word.

A/N:

So…Daria finally met Ella's mother. I'm done writing the next chapter, and I really had fun writing it! Anyway, here's a peek at it (one of the scenes):

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Daria turned and her heart almost leaped out of her mouth when her blue-green eyes met brown ones. She didn't expect this to happen. She absolutely didn't.

She curtsied only out of respect. "Good morning, your majesty," she mumbled.

Prince Jerrold, future ruler of Kyrria, smiled. "Good morning. Lovely day, isn't it.?"

"I suppose so," Daria muttered. She needed to get away. If she just said "Excuse me", would that be considered rude? Was she allowed to turn her back on the prince? Wait a minute…did he even recognize her? Did he know that she was the girl in Antoniette's banquet who was covered with disgusting soot from head to toe?

He raised an eyebrow. "You look troubled. Are you all right?"

Daria shrugged. "Peachy." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Prince Jerrold didn't know what to say to this. "Well…er…is this your first time in the menagerie?"

Daria shot him a cold look. She couldn't help it. "I have to leave," she said icily. She didn't care whether she was rude. She was not going to associate with this person. She turned and walked away from him.

He controlled his laughter. "Is this the way to behave towards the future ruler of Kyrria?" he said. He was only joking, of course. He wasn't angered at the least by this girl. In fact, he was rather amused at her attitude towards him. He was sick of those ladies who always cooed and flirted whenever they saw him. It was tiresome.

This girl was different. Her voice was strong and full of emotion. It wasn't syrupy and thus, wasn't annoying. And, more importantly, she didn't giggle with her dainty hand placed in front of her mouth. She also didn't try to show off her…feminine charms.

Unfortunately, Daria didn't sense the fact that he was only kidding. She turned back to him, her eyes flashing dangerously…

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Please review! They always encourage me to continue my stories! By the way, my other story, "Impossible Love, Eternal War," has been updated as well.