I had just gotten to the downstairs servant quarters when a riled-up housekeeper stormed through the door. The front of her skirt was all bunched up in her hands and sweat was glistening on her neck. I'd never seen her so mad before; not that I was particularly concerned. From the moment I spotted her, I knew why she was here, and I was just too tired and depressed to deal her screeching.

Course that didn't stop her. She marched across the kitchen, stopping to tower over me with her hands glued to her hips. Her lower lip was already quivering in boundless anger. I just merely gazed back up at her with an apathetic expression, which probably infuriated her more.

"What did you do?!" "Nothing." "Nothing?! You call whatever you did "nothing"?! I asked you a question, and don't you DARE lie to me, girl!" I huffed, running my hand over my wary face. "I told you, I did nothing wrong. It was NOT immoral," responding to Damian I mean, because of course it wasn't! Madame de Bossé's lip was full on twitching now. Her foot gave a livid stomp on the floor.

"That's not your decision to make! You may think that you're soooooooo smart just because you read books by Kant and the like. But don't forget, you're a scullery maid- NOTHING more! You're no better than a piece of furniture here!" I growled a bit, reaching my limit with her. "That's not true," my mouth muttered under my breath. "What did you say?!" "I said that's not true! Obviously I'm worth more to the Desmonds than a mere piece of furniture! It's sick that you would even make the comparison!" She huffed loudly, widening her eyes slightly. "You're just borrowing another, smarter man's ethical theory."

This REALLY struck a chord with me. Her eyes grew even larger as I got up from the chair I had been sitting on, returning her glare in full force. "I am not! I think it should be clear to you by now that I never bought into this "upstairs, downstairs" bullshit! It's self-evident that every person is an end in of themselves! That's not me trying to be "smart" when I show everyone a little dignity! Forgive me for not being a blood-sucking Utilitarian!" "How DARE you?! Where do you get the nerve speaking to me like that?! Do you have any idea who I am?!" She got right up in my face, but I didn't back down. Not an inch. I was just so done with everything. My hands balled into clenched fists as I straightened my back. "Why should I care who you are?! You NEVER cared about me! You never even bothered to learn my name!"

Slap! Her hand slapped me so hard across the face that I actually went tumbling to the floor, knocking over a stool as I fell. The cheek where she struck me was already beet red, and I had the faint taste of blood in my mouth. While I laid there, wiping the spit and drops of blood off my lips with the back of my hand, de Bossé took two steps in my direction, both her hands also curled into fists now. When she spoke again her voice was low and threatening.

"Why should I bother to learn your name? I already know who you are. You're a good-for-nothing, penniless, god-forsaken orphan!" My eyebrow twitched in utter fury. Wiping my mouth clean, I slowly, steadily stood back up, glaring at her more hatefully than I've ever looked at anybody before. My hand rested on the corner of the table to keep me balanced; my vision was still a little blurry.

"I'm not an orphan." "The hell you aren't! You're the daughter of nobody!" My fingers curled inwards. "That's where you're wrong. I'm the daughter of one Loid Forger. I'm also the daughter of Mr. Henry Henderson," THAT was a threat to bring him up like that. de Bossé immediately recognized this and the possible implications that meant for her, but she decided to act nonchalant, brushing this fact away in a dismissive manner. "If that's the case, then why don't you go back to the academy? I should dismiss you on the spot!" "You and I both know you can't do that. Master Desmond is my boss; NOT you," I fired back with venom. She looked like she was ready to about strangle me.

Her bottom lip twitched uncontrollably. "I don't know how Mr. Henderson could have raised such a horrible girl." "My name's not "girl"; it's Anya." "I don't give a damn! I'll call you whatever I damn well please!" She hollered. Our shouting match was only interrupted when Raul suddenly rounded the corner; he seemed to be in a hurry. I blinked to de Bossé, then at me. The moment his eyes landed on me, they grew gigantic with horror. "W-What's going on here?" His voice trembled a tad.

This innocent question earned a punishing glare from the housekeeper. "Shut up, old man!" I glared at her in turn. "Don't talk to him like that!" "Miss, what's going on? What's happened?" Raul took a step my way. Before I could say anything more, de Bossé fired off another disapproving look right at me. "Stop with the self-righteous crap. You're no better than the rest of us." "I never said I was, though I doubt there's many people under this roof who would prescribe to my moral code." "Get out of my sight!" She bellowed, pointing to the door.

Raul watched me spin around and leave the kitchen, still holding onto my cheek. "Miss!" He cried after me, reaching for my hand. I smiled sorrowfully at him, pausing to glance over my shoulder. "I'll be alright, Raul. I just…. need some air." "Miss, are you ok?" His whole face was washed with concern. Sucking back angry tears for the second time that night, I did my best to maintain my fake smile. My legs were starting to shake under me. "Yes, I'm fine."

I need to get the hell out of here, but I'll be fine.