Poppy, with nothing better to do, had lain down and fallen asleep upon Red's fainting couch, legs near the painting of Yellow Diamond. They did not touch the empress's image.
The entire apartment smelled of soaps and detergents. Even the pile of rubble looked clean to the point of being sterile.
The chambers were so quiet.
And Pearl's supportive teacup sat exactly where she had left it, upon the table near the couch where she currently slept, now marked with her finger prints in several areas around its tattooed flesh.
Then Red Beryl returned, and those frilly grey eyes opened and looked directly into their master's.
"Madame! You're home!" And her slender body arose from the cushions and Pearl came to her feet. The motions she went through were quite graceful. Though, she still dug at the corners of her eyes to rid them of sleep and liquid, and her long fingers straightened out her strawberry hair.
"Why is my cup out?"
"Oh—I was admiring it. I called you a while ago to ask if it was alright, Madame, but I didn't hear back from you—"
"Enough. Put it back. I have something I need to talk to you about."
Without words, Pearl took the cup in her gentle hands and walked with it back to the cabinet where it normally resided. She then set it among all its beautiful sisters and returned to Red.
The noble had sat down where her Pearl was only just resting and tilted her head back over the lip of the sofa. Those wild eyes had closed as her body released a severe breath of dusty air all the way from her office.
The exhaustion in her bones began to settle.
Though, her skin received every anxious nerve in Pearl's still body as that little slave waited. The text of her mind came out in insurmountable paragraphs that were as long as Yellow Diamond was tall. Pearl searched through every action she had completed over the last several shifts, searching for a possible felony.
But then Red spoke, with those eyes like spotlights over her servant.
Her flower seemed to wilt.
"Pearl, you are never to make calls without my permission. Goshenite told me you spoke with Snowy the other day in regards to my behavior, but this not part of your duties. What you did was inappropriate and I hoped you would have known better."
The other gem's milky skin went cold. "Madame, I called you on a few occasions and just wanted to be sure you were alright. I hadn't heard from you in so long; you usually come home—"
"And what did I say about that? I asked you to only call me in an emergency, and that was another one of my orders you disobeyed. Pearl, you are never to call anyone unless you have my expressed permission. Is that clear?"
A gulp. "Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry. I was just so lonely."
"The reason why is of little importance." Red Beryl looked away. "Especially when all I needed you to do was follow instructions."
I didn't know I wasn't supposed to call anyone.
"Was that truly something you needed to be told, Pearl?"
A healthy dose of shock. "No, Madame." But her heart protested her innocence, even though she killed it all away. "I won't do it again."
"Good."
The noble shut her eyes again as the numerous term papers of Pearl's thoughts waded back in, printed in tiny, anxious font.
Perhaps Madame Red Beryl is right it's likely I should have known better I'm such a disappointment I need to work on becoming a better Pearl Yellow Diamond did offer her another during the party what if she accepts there's already so few tasks to do and how can I be the best with competition I'd want at least a little while longer to figure out all the things I'm meant to do maybe she'll be happy if I read another play—
"Which play did you read in the first place?"
"Oh—" The thick columns of newspaper articles attesting to her inadequacy melted away, at least momentarily, and the servant answered: "I read A Noble and Her Pearl, Madame. It was a little hard to get through, but I made it all the way to the end of Act Five."
"That's an extremely difficult play for your first one. Did you really read the entire thing?"
"Yes, Madame. I did."
"You know it was written quite a long time ago." Red crossed her fingers over her lap. "Some of the language might be outdated. I wouldn't have minded reading it together—"
But then her first Pearl was sitting at the table, getting through the same play, and wiping up her striking blue eyes because she was so moved.
"Well. What else did you do when I was gone?"
"Actually, Madame, Snowy told me about a story she was reading. It was about a soldier who belonged to White Diamond and one of her Pearls—" Her speech slipped seamlessly into a short film Pearl had made in her mind, of a White Quartz soldier with excellent muscles and beautiful blue eyes, and a lovely Pearl, tinted slightly pink. Her name was Duchess. Poppy drew this Pearl with long, soft hair (nothing like the puffy up-do's almost every other servant White Diamond owned) and eyes even bigger than most Pearls had.
And the soldier, with her enormous hands, held Duchess tenderly and leaned in for a sweet kiss. It was as if the air were influenced by the perfume of many roses, and when their lips met, ever so softly for the very first time, that little Pearl cried ever so softly into her lover's mouth. Duchess had never held such a fire in her chest or the soft cushions of her un-calloused palms.
Red hit Poppy with her open hand, across the face.
With a cry, her Pearl stepped backward.
"You've been reading romance novels?! While 'Snowy' was telling you about that tripe, did she also manage to include the fact that those stories are forbidden?!"
"No—"
"Now I can see why so many nobles choose to keep their Pearls illiterate! I teach you to read and all you do is break my rules! My first Pearl would have never done anything this ludicrously stupid!"
"Madame, I didn't know—"
"I'm not even sure how to punish you for this! I never anticipated that my Pearl of all gems would even be capable of such a thing! What do you have to say for yourself?"
Nothing. Because Pearl, with quivering hands and a weeping mouth, sunk down to the floor and lied practically flat against it. She went lower and lower until she could go no further. Even so, Red still saw the print of her hand against Pearl's now purple skin amongst a face gone rosy due to upset.
The servant practically screamed.
Out came the cloud of genuine ignorance and remorse. In the chaotic stream of those thoughts, Red never once found the word 'Bitch' written amongst them. There weren't even any syllables that came close.
Pearl's limbs retracted and came close to her body. She crinkled and tried to make words, but coherent thought was too difficult. What ended up occurring were a few droplets of thick saliva landing onto the cold and indifferent floor that drew goosebumps across her pale skin.
"Pearl!"
"Madame, I'm sorry—"
"Stop weeping this instant!"
The servant tried.
"Pearl."
"I'm sorry, Madame! I'm so sorry!"
The slave tensed up when she felt a set of fingers drift through her strawberry hair. She expected a grasp and a tug, but her master cleared the strands from her face and coasted her palm over the un-swollen portions of her cheek.
"I shouldn't have hurt you. I'm sorry, Pearl."
"Madame?"
The aristocrat's touch coasted down to her slave's shoulder, with its airy fabric, and those big grey eyes came to look at her through a veil of brightly colored locks. Through the servant's skin, Red felt the sting around the imprint of her hand.
"I don't want you reading that garbage. You weren't aware, but please keep that in mind for the next time."
"Will Snowy get in trouble?"
"She could be in a world of trouble if someone important finds out."
"But what about Lady Goshenite, Madame?"
"Goshenite doesn't seem to worry about such things, but I do."
Pearl sucked in her tears, though the inside of her throat and sinuses still seemed to drown momentarily in the excess of liquid she made in her upset. And her mistress continued to run her fingers through the slave's smooth hair, and against her untouched cheek.
"I think I'm going to rest a while, Pearl. You may do as you please, so long as you keep relatively quiet. Thank you for keeping the area so tidy."
A slight gasp. "You're welcome, Madame."
And Red Beryl walked away a few steps before pausing. An inquiry birthed itself around the servant's mind. One that latched itself into her master's back and plunged deep like a knife.
It itched like the raw skin on the purple half of her visage.
The noble turned back around. Her footsteps echoed in the grand silence.
"I don't know why Pearls are servants. I've heard the theories that it's because their gems aren't as sturdy as others, and that they were simply cut out for it, but I'm not sure if the last part is true. Every Pearl I've encountered has her own thoughts, and feelings, and personality. Despite this, many gems believe that they're naturally inferior or unintelligent, but that isn't true. I know plenty of aristocrats who couldn't make it through the same play you read. I know many of them who don't take interest in literature at all. I've met lazy soldiers and ignorant nobles and plenty of hard-working, bright Pearls. I can't give you an answer. In many ways, I wish it weren't so, but there isn't much that can be done."
Pearl was silent. She wiped past her long nose with the back of her hand.
"Do you know why those novels are forbidden?"
"No, Madame. I don't." She still hadn't risen from the floor.
"It's because they encourage behaviors that can lead to serious trouble. For a Pearl, running away with a soldier is considered a crime and both parties involved can lose their lives. I don't want you to do something outside of my supervision, not knowing how serious of an act it is, and end up being executed over a foolish mistake. You're still quite young, Pearl. You shouldn't be getting such ideas when it's unlikely you'll understand the consequences. Your safety is my responsibility and I take this duty extremely seriously."
The little servant sniffled and nodded. She looked like a ballerina that had fallen onto the hard stage and made her knees raw. Despite the burning in the back of her throat, Pearl spoke the words: "Thank you, Madame." Though doing so was comparable to receiving a shot or swallowing a brimming spoonful of bitter medicine.
Her face still stung.
And her heart still hurt.
"You're welcome."
Red Beryl went away to the leisure room, to relaxingly contemplate her sins.