Seven years later…
"No! Father – Please! Do not do this! Please, Father!"
"I shall ask you one last time: will you marry Prince Kilern?"
"Father, I canno-"
"Then you're of no use to me!"
"No! Father! No—
"Father!"
Maleen bolted up on her straw mat, sweat trickling down her cheek. Panting softly, she glanced around at her companions. By the pale light of the moon, she could make out their slumbering bodies curled up around her. None had awaken; she breathed a sigh of relief.
With her heart pounding in her breast, she couldn't imagine lying back down and sleeping again. She rose, the straw crackling softly. She had to go where there was more light. Seven years spent in darkness had been more than enough for her. She had fallen asleep in her uniform, so she merely put on her shoes and tiptoed to the door while tying up her hair in a handkerchief.
She slipped out into the deserted hall which, lacking a window, was even more entrenched in darkness. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the kitchens. A scullion would be keeping a low fire there and no doubt would be glad of someone to relieve his duties.
The soft glow seeping past the heavy wooden door was a welcome sight. The door opened with a small creak, startling the dozing scullion. A scuffy round face blinked at her blankly for a moment.
"Dale," she greeted, relieved that it was a friend. She walked to where the young boy was squatting upon the stones.
"Maleen," he replied, his brown eyes bright with welcome. He glanced at the small flame in the hearth. Satisfied that it was burning well, he turned back to her. "Why are you awake?"
She looked away, hiding her face in shadow. "I could not sleep." When she turned back, her face held a companionable smile. "So I thought to help you. No sense in having both of us lose sleep."
"Truly?" he said. He looked so happy that Maleen could not resist ruffling his hair. He grimaced and she laughed. He reminded her so strongly of her younger brother. The thought caught her tight about the heart but she forced the emotion down. Night always made her more vulnerable, but now was not the time.
"Why can't you sleep?" he asked, baffled at the thought that anyone who was worked as hard as her could do anything but sleep when given the chance.
"Bad dreams," she replied lightly. She shooed him away into a corner and watched with with a small smile as he drifted off to sleep.
Maleen took Dale's position by the hearth and leisurely stoked the fire.
Light. Never again would she fail to recognize how precious it actually was. Watching the dancing flames soothed her restlessness and drove away all thought. She didn't want to think – it would do her no good.
Slowly, she felt herself enticed into a mesmerized doze. From a distance, she thought she heard the patter of hurried feet.
Suddenly, the door burst open. A winded servant stumbled over the threshold and swung his head about frantically. His eyes landed upon her.
"Where is the cook?" he demanded, every word raising in volume. "Where is the cook?"
"Sleeping in the larder," she replied. She had barely finished the last word before he turned on his heels and ran.
Confusion left her frozen for a moment but the distant sound of a fist banging on the larder door broke her trance. She hurried to the corner, and grabbing Dale's shoulder, shook him.
"Wake up! Wake up! The cook is coming!" She glanced at the door nervously. She didn't want the poor boy's ears boxed if the cook caught him away from his post.
Dale scrambled from his make-shift bed and hurtled towards the hearth. He had just picked up the fire poker when the cook barreled into the kitchen.
"Build up the fire!" he ordered. His hair, mussed by sleep, made his anxious expression border on wild. The corpulent man grabbed Maleen's arm and shoved her towards the door. "Wake the maids! Get the scullions!"
She started to walk but apparently, that wasn't nearly fast enough.
"What are you dawdling for?" the cook demanded, wielding a ladle like a weapon. "The princess will arrive in an hour and nothing has been prepared! Go you blasted girl!"
A spoon flew over her head. Maleen hurried towards the maid's chamber.
The princess would be here in an hour. The words echoed in her mind louder than the sound of her steps on the stones. The prince's future bride.
She shook her head almost violently to clear the gathering sorrow. Heartache would have to wait.
She banged hard on the chamber door, ignoring the curses being tossed her way. She made her announcement and then watched her fellow servants scramble for their clothes and shoes. She waited until a few others were ready before joining them back to the kitchen.
The Cook was beside himself with worry.
"The soup! The bread! The chicken!" he shouted, making little sense with his chaotic orders. The maids leapt to their duties; knives, vegetables, meats and flour flying in every direction.
Maleen made her way to a safe corner of the kitchen. Picking up a knife and apple, she began peeling with an attention the task did not merit. After all, it was a chore she could do it in the dark.
Gradually, the noise of the kitchen receded into the background. The wry thought that she had once been the cause of such an uproar drifted through her mind. But on the heels of that came the reminder that those days were long over. This was another princess. One who would marry her prince in ten short days.
There was a slightly bruised spot on the apple and Maleen hesitated over whether or not to cut it off. Would it matter? Who would notice?
Her knife made a decisive swipe, removing the spot before she tossed it into the bowl of water with the others. She would never know, but perhaps… her apple would be served to the prince.
Author's Note: Wow - very different from my other work, While I was out walking one day - not nearly as cheerful. But at least there's a happy ending to look forward to.