"Its just an off day, its just an off day, its just an off day."
That's what Maudeline repeated in her head. It truly was an off day, or at least an off morning. Studdering, a fluttering in her chest, an an overall feeling around Hildegarde she couldn't explain. And that's what scared her: She couldn't find out why, so for now it was just an off day.
"Breakfast, lady Everglot."
Hildegarde laid the plate on the table. Usualy it was all over the table, but that was a time when Maudeline lived with someone. Someone truly unlikable. Someone who was one of the few people she wished passed sooner: Finis Everglot. Of all the suiters, why did she have to be the widow who was married to Finis Everglot? The only good thing about him was that he was wealthy, and even that wasn't true. The veil of steady income was just that when they married: a veil to attract young wealthy women to the family. Part of the reason their marrige was so unhappy was that Finis claimed he only got one in his union with Maudeline, and he constantly insulted her by reminding her of her age. And ever since he passed, she took a step back from the lavish breakfasts he insisted they have to show what wealth they did have. Mainly because...
"The weekly check from Mr. and Mrs. Van Dort just came in, lady Everglot."
...of that. The fact she was now financialy tied to fish merchants was an utter disgrace. The owners were just the worst people as well, or at least Nell was. She was intolerable, uninformed, unbelievably stubborn, and controling. One time, when Maudeline refused to give the Van Dort fish business free promotion in the form of bringing it up in at least one conversation per dinner party to preserve whatever dignity she had left, Nell threatened to cut her off for three weeks, and partialy followed through. Those were some of the worst three weeks of Maudeline's life, at least financially. And then there was William, who while at least tolerable and even described as sweet by some who knew him, was nothing short of spineless! Durring the aforementioned three weeks, he had only paid lip service to her when she spoke out and only gave his wife a light slap on the wrist she probably didn't even feel! It was clear he was the one tied to the strings, and Nell was the puppetmaster.
She sighed as she opened the check. It looks like Nell has two puppets now.
"Is everything okay, lady Everglot?" Hildegarde asked with genuine concern.
"Oh, uh, yes Hildegarde. Everything's... fine..."
Almost everything about her life seemed just a few flames away from hell on earth. She was controled by commoners, the widower of a liar, and she'd probably follow him into eternety soon herself based on her current luck.
And then there was Hildegarde.
And there was something different about Hildegarde. No matter how she looked and no matter where in the room she was, she always attracted attention. It could have been her prematurely grayed hair. That combined with her wrinkled skin made people think she was older than she realy was. The truth was that both were from working extra shifts ever since Victoria was born. It could be her uniform as well. Hildegarde did look best in her maid uniform. It was what she met Maudeline in, after all. And she was just the most loyal maid. She was the type to go beyond the duties in the job description. She was the type to be by your side durring your darkest moment, the type to dry your eyes and wipe away the running masquera, the type type to sit with you at your bedside as you clutched at a life that wouldn't be, no matter how desperate you were to bring it back. And as of now, she was the type...
...that would make you trail off and stay in an awkward silence for five minutes.
"Oh, I am so sorry Hildegarde! How rude of me to trail off like that."
"It's quite alright, lady Everglot. Like you said before, it's probably just an off day for you. Everyone has them."
And as she ate her breakfast, she found herself unable to take her eyes off Hildegarde, soon followed by the flutter in her chest she felt before. But why? Why couldn't she take her eyes off Hildegarde? And why did she feel this strange tickle in her chest around her maid of all people? Her mind then drifted back to earlier in the morning, but why? Why was she thinking like this? Why did she feel this way? And, again, why was she like this around her employee? Why was she even asking herself these questions in the first place? And amidst all these questions, one horrifying fact was certain:
today was not just an off day.