"What are you doing down here? Where's Master Desmond?" "He's at the front door, waiting for Sta-….. er, Miss Grey," I replied to the confused and already annoyed Madame de Bossé. She tapped her foot on the ground in an irritated rhythm, planting her fists on her hips. "And why are you here?" "Mrs. Desmond told me to come help." "She did?" The madame's eyebrow arched as she realized she couldn't send me away if the mistress ordered it. She rolled her eyes extremely dramatically, huffing like this was a major inconvenience to her.
"Well, if you're going to help me serve, you'd better stay out of my way! And you better mind yourself, girl. I don't know what you did to have the SSS on your tail, but you're not going to ruin this for the masters! Do I make myself clear?" Her thick, gloved forefinger pointed in my direction. Maintaining eye contact and wearing a thin, flat line on my lips, I barely moved a muscle. "Perfectly," her authoritative powers were starting to wane on me. Ever since that night with the secret police, I'd been a little less afraid of everybody here- well, except for Mr. Desmond. That man was still terrifying. Momentarily studying my expression, Madame frowned but couldn't really do anything else. We proceeded to get the silver serving trays in order.
Madame de Bossé and I then carried these full trays through the servant hallways, which I didn't even know the mansion had. We arrived at the door outside the east drawing room. Voices could already be heard from inside, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Before opening the door, the housekeeper shot me a vicious glare. "Keep that mouth of yours SHUT! You are invisible to these people, always remember." Grinning bitterly back at her, my head cocked a little. "Yes, Madame," god, I hate her. And she wasn't the worst of it.
We entered through the side door, with our door covered with wallpaper to blend in with the surroundings. Despite it being bright and sunshiny outside, the room was uncomfortably dark. The blinds were drawn shut; an order from Mr. Desmond, I'm sure. That man was so pale, I doubt his skin ever saw the light of day. There was also this weird smell, like old books but worse. It was musky and potent- not at all pleasant. The intimate group five were seated in a circle, all facing each other. I recognized four out of the five; all the men in the room. The Elman brothers were sitting side-by-side, with the short one in between Damian and his brother. Damian and his brother sat on the other side, with a well-dressed young lady stationed in between them.
This very fancy girl was Stasi Grey, I presumed. The first thing that struck me about her was her beauty. Blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her skin was pale like milk and her lips a lovely shade of pink. Her outfit was something I could never afford, nor want to wear. It was one of those ultra-elegant dresses with a billion petty coats. And don't even get me started on her stockings or shoes. This woman was glam to the max, which I don't think worked in her favor with Damian.
Stasi and Demetrius were the ones doing most of the conversing. Well, mainly Stasi; it was painfully apparent that she was the guest of honor. For instance, everything she said Demetrius either agreed with or praised. The Elman brothers added their occasional two-cent in, but Stasi mostly dominated the scene. Her intended was decidedly silent, which she didn't seem to notice. Damian's eyes were glued on his lap and he was sitting on his hands when we entered. Only then did he look up in terror.
From the moment we stepped into the room, we made eye contact, and Damian appeared like he wanted to be anywhere in the world but there. The look on his face was absolute embarrassment and disgust, almost like he was a child caught somewhere he shouldn't be. I felt so bad for him, and wanted nothing more than to go up and take him by the hand. But of course, etiquette had to prevail. Madame de Bossé set her tray down and quickly left the room, but not before angrily motioning for me to actually go up and serve everyone. I inwardly rolled my eyes and wanted to escape as soon as possible myself. In reality Damian was the only one who noted our arrival; the others hadn't even so much as glanced our way yet.
Sucking up a deep breath, I took my tray over to the group. Stasi was going on about something pointless, with Demetrius and the brothers congratulating her on her "insightful" observations. Stasi's hand flipped up in the air like she had something important to say. "Really, is it too much to ask that we reduce government assistance to the lower classes? The party already gives them so much! The poor and destitute will become more complacent than they already are if we don't stop this charity state," this witch….. The wide Elman brother nodded in total agreement. "You're absolutely right, Miss Grey. What do they think we're running here? A charity state? Let 'em fend for themselves; that's what I say." "The only good thing about the war, should it ever come, is that it'll give those street urchins something to do with their time," Demetrius nodded resolutely. Damian wore an utterly horrified expression, and mine wasn't too far off. Something to do with their time? Oh, did these rich pricks conveniently forget the countless hours the labor force put in THEIR factories? And a charity state? This party's already stripped away every social assistance available, and they still thought it wasn't enough? What did they want from us? Legal human ownership? There's a word for that, assholes; and I bet it's one Mr. Desmond thinks is a good idea.
Trying my best to ignore their abhorrent excuse for a conversation, I went about plating each of them an hors d'oeuvre. It's only then that the Elman brothers finally took note of me, and judging by the creepy smiles that drew across their slimy faces, I'd say they liked what they saw. The tall one raised his finger up so to grab my attention after I served him. "Oh, serving girl," he called out, both alarming and humiliating me at once. I paused to glance over my shoulder at him, and he beckoned me forward by curling his forefinger. "One more," no please or anything. Stifling a repulsed scowl, I spun back around to place another item on his plate. As I did so, I caught his tongue rolling over his top teeth as he ogled me, or should I say "my body". He grinned, and Damian immediately frowned in turn, sending him a strong glare. Not that creepy man here noticed; he was too busy drooling at me.
Serving him as fast as I could, I spun back around to go set the tray down- the Elman brothers keeping their gazes cemented on my back now. This was probably the most awkward, uncomfortable situation I've ever been in my life. Damian was obviously not enjoying himself either, also glancing my way through the corner of his eye. The only ones entirely unaware of what was going on were Demetrius and Stasi. She laughed about something I didn't catch, suddenly giving Damian's knee a playful shove. This alarmed him, visibly making him recoil as his head shot in her direction. "That is true! Wouldn't you agree, Damian?" Stasi continued to laugh, spinning her head towards a shell-shocked Damian. His mouth hung open and his cheeks blushed- not in a good way.
Stasi didn't appear to notice how uncomfortable her beau was at the present, continuing to tap his knee expectedly. "Come now, Damian. You must think I'm right about this. How could I not be?" "Of course you're right, Miss Grey! The very idea is unthinkable," Damian's brother flew into his rescue when nothing escaped Damian's ajar mouth. Stasi giggled, leaning in closer in her chair to my master. Damian's eyes widened; he was NOT enjoying this. Her eyes lowered a little as this mischievous smile blossomed on her lips. "Heh, even if I was wrong, you'd ever tell me, would you Damian? A man never thinks that the lady of his "special" interest could be mistaken. My word is paramount to you, isn't it?" Wow, talk about manipulative. What's Damian supposed to say to that? She's backed him into a verbal corner where he's forced to agree with her, lest he insult her in front of their guests. Demetrius knew this, and once again came in for his brother's rescue when he remained tongue-tied. "Of course, Miss Grey. Damian hangs off your every word," the elder brother said, making Stasi giggle even more. "Heh, I know he does."
The Elman brothers just then returned their attention to their peers, rolling their eyes at the mushy display. They clearly weren't buying it, and neither was I. A lady, indeed; she's not like any "lady" I've ever met. I'm sure Mr. Henderson would have a few other things to call her. But that wasn't my concern. I was worried about Damian but there wasn't much I could do for him now. Instead, I set the tray down beside madame's on the table and was prepared to get the hell outta there. I had just taken a few steps towards the door before my master's voice reached my ears.
"N-No, I don't think there's anything planned for next Thursday afternoon," oh no, I know where this is going…. I cringed as Damian's head twisted towards me. He glanced at me innocently….. "Say, Anya, do I have anything scheduled for next Thursday?"
A very long pause fell over the room. All eyes were suddenly on me, including a stunned Demetrius and Stasi; it was their first time looking right at me as an individual. I knew what Damian wanted; he wasn't interested in a mere head nod, and I felt it permissible to speak to him. He was my master, after all. Still….. Inhaling deeply for a second, my hands curled into anxious fists. I peered back over at Damian from over my shoulder, giving him a warm, sincere expression once our eyes met again- I'm sure he needed some warmth right now. "No, Master Desmond."
Oh boy, THAT was a mistake. The atmosphere wholly changed, and it was Stasi herself who darkened the mood. She sent me an instant venomous glare, striking me with her sharp eyes. The Elman brothers glanced at her nervously, as did Demetrius. It was only poor, naïve Damian who didn't seem to realize his mistake until it was too late. After glaring red-hot daggers in my direction, Stasi sat back in her chair and smirked; that kind of smirk one has before they destroy someone.
"My, what a rude maid your family has the misfortune to employ. Don't the "lesser" know their place nowadays? It's getting to be so you can't find good help anymore," she hissed while sipping on her tea. No one said anything. Damian's face melted to one of sheer horror and regret. Demetrius glanced down at his teacup in his hand, staying quiet. Even the Elman brothers looked uncomfortable now. Stasi took a sip of her tea before ripping that sinister glare of hers off me, glancing over to Demetrius from the corner of her eyes. She sat erect, showing her authority over the entire room, and everyone in it.
"You will see that she's dealt with, won't you Demetrius? Can't let such disrespect like that slide, now can we? It sets an ill-precedence for your other staff." And with that, Demetrius snapped to again. He was back onboard the "Stasi is right about everything" train, though he couldn't bring himself to look my way. He cleared his throat and shut his eyes for a moment. "Yes, of course. I'll have the housekeeper take care of the situation forthwith." "Shouldn't you have her dismissed?" Stasi evilly inquired. The color drained from Damian's face faster than mine. The Elman brothers' eyes also widened in horror; this was going too far even for them.
Demetrius didn't reply right away, probably trying to formulate what to say next that wouldn't make her angry. He and I both knew that Mr. Desmond probably wouldn't tolerate one of his maids being let go for such a stupid reason; not that he cared a lick about me but that he didn't want to go through the effort of replacing me. He'd blame Demetrius for wasting his valuable time…. so at least I had that in my favor.
But Damian's precious fiancée must be appeased. Demetrius cleared his throat again, keeping his eyes firmly closed; I don't think he wanted to look at her or I right now. "I-I shall consult Father on the matter. In the meantime, I'll oversee the affair." He would not on either occasion. I knew what Demetrius was like, and he didn't give two licks about me either. And he DEFINITELY wouldn't dare bother his father on the scenario. Luckily this meant that I wouldn't lose my job or be reprimanded further; Damian wouldn't punish me for this. But I did take this as my cue to leave. As I opened the door however, I heard Stasi speak to Demetrius one last time.
"Honestly, where did you find that creature? The workhouse?" My fingers began to curl in rage. That creature? We're the same species- unfortunately. Stasi let out a short sigh. "Then again, I suppose I can't fault her too much. There really is no substitute for good breeding."
Fighting back the irate tears forming in my eyes, I went through the door, letting my fists linger on its hard a minute before shutting it.