by Laura R Cole
CHAPTER 3
A rooster crowed, and Layna cracked open an eyelid, groaning to herself. How can he be so lively this early in the morning? She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and cringed as her bare feet hit the cold stone floor beneath them. On tip-toe, so as to avoid as much contact with the frigid surface as possible, she made her way over to the fireplace. Although the signs of winter were just barely beginning to show outside, Layna still thought it was much too cold for her liking. She sacrificed a piece of wood from the small pile allotted to her to warm the chill from her bones. She hurriedly pulled a tunic over her head, and stood in front of the fire as it slowly dissipated heat throughout her small room.
As the last of her morning chill faded away, she busied herself with making her bed and using the wash-bin to clean up. A long bath would come after her morning chores in the barnyard.
She pulled thick leather boots over her feet, and picked up a basket to head to the chicken coop. The halls were quiet in the morning, despite the fact that most servants were already up and about, readying the manor for their mistress's morning appearance. Like Layna, many of them held the same distaste for such early hours, so other than a few mumbled 'good morning's, the atmosphere was subdued.
Layna made her way down to the back entrance to the house and quickly slipped out the door, trying to conserve as much warmth inside as she could. The cold, raw morning air bit at her bare skin where it was exposed through holes in her tunic. The sharp intake of breath that the shock of it caused seemed to freeze in her lungs. She shivered.
As she drew near the barnyard, she heard a grunting noise. She looked curiously around the corner of the pig pen where it seemed to be coming from. There, Devon was struggling to lift a large burlap bag over the fence and into the mud hole that served as a compost pile. Layna paused for a moment with indecision, but then shrugged off her unease and moved towards him to help. She grabbed a corner of the bag and together they lifted it over the fence. It made a dull thud before water started seeping up through the frost and it slowly sunk a few inches.
“Thank you, Layna,” Devon acknowledged with an odd smile.
Layna hoped her nodded reply didn't show her surprise and fear that he knew her name. She hurried off, feeling his eyes watching her, and she shivered again. This time it had nothing to do with the cold.
Soon the rising sun burned away the last of the morning fog, and her chill from the encounter diminished as the warm rays thawed her cold body. Layna hummed as she spread grain for the chickens, while methodically checking each of their nests for eggs. She let her mind wander, and her thoughts turned once again to Lord Gryffon, as they so often had been of late. It was a constant struggle between her head and her heart. Her good sense told her that no matter the outcome of her infatuation with the man, it was bound to be bad news. Either she would end up with a broken heart; as she let her feelings get out of control and inevitably those feelings were never returned. She was, after all, only a maid. Or, even if the impossible were to come true and he were to return her interest, where would that get her? Quite possibly a one-way trip into the basement accompanied by Devon.
A sharp pain in her hand brought her abruptly back to her surroundings. She realized that in her day-dream she had left her hand down where the chickens could reach it while feeding them. One was busily trying to pick every last crumb from her finger and had ended up taking some skin with it. Layna withdrew her hand and sucked on the offending digit, where a tiny droplet of blood was forming. She quickly threw the rest of the feed down onto the ground, and the chickens converged to gobble it up.
She hurried through the rest of the chore of collecting eggs, and made her way back to the kitchen with her prizes. When she arrived, the cook was already bustling around in the overheated room, and he barely had time for a nodded affirmation of the proffered eggs. Layna enjoyed the warmth, and made her way to the servants' table where the cook had indicated that breakfast was set out for them. She sat in front of her meal of porridge and a leftover roll, and was surprised to see a note next to the plate. She glanced around the room, but other than the cook, who was paying no attention to her, no one was around. Cautiously, she picked it up and saw that her name was scrawled on the back. Hmm, she wondered, who would be leaving me a note? She carefully broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
“Layna,” it read, “My apologies for upsetting you yesterday. Please accept this as a token of my desire for your friendship. Very Sincerely, Gryffon (Just Gryffon).”
She tilted the note and a small charm attached to a delicate chain slid out into her palm, a slight tingle passing through her as she touched it. At first she was elated, holding the necklace up to look at it, searching its design for hidden meanings. No more than a split second later, however, her senses kicked in and alarm overtook her. She quickly glanced around again to see if anyone was looking before pocketing the necklace. If Jezebel ever finds out that Gryffon gave me a gift...she shuddered at the unfinished thought.
She'd decide what to do with it later; it was too much for her to think about this early in the morning. She stuffed the rest of the roll in her mouth and hurried out of the kitchen to start the day.