Blood Winter: Immortalibus Bella 3

by SL Figuhr

  Sydney took his leave, thoughts heavy with what he had seen and wondering what Lira would do if she knew about the situation. He debated with himself, and decided she ought to know. With this thought in mind, he made his way toward her mansion. It was late enough in the day the duchess would be home and not at the palace on business.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Bre and her mother worked together to clean the inn’s guest rooms, a task the few slaves the Thorns owned would typically do. There usually weren’t many stay-overs during the winter months, but since the initial raid and fire, a few of the traveling merchants had decided to become citizens. Because of the early, brutal winter, and a shortage of building supplies, they had no choice but to continue to stay at inns or with other guild members who would host them. A cold gust of wind rattled the glass panes, and voices drifted through from the street.

  The young woman glanced out the window as she dusted, then stood and stared. A small crowd of people had gathered around two men in brown robes. One of the men, whose long hair and beard tossed about in the wind, gesticulated wildly.

  “Stop staring at whatever is going on out there! Mr. Jersen will want the use of his room soon.” Her mother's voice intruded on her thoughts.

  “Sorry, Ma,” Bre apologized. “There is something strange going on. Is that not the crazy priest who saved the former advisor?”

  Her mother walked over, arms heaped with used linen as she peered out. “Hrmph,” was the only comment she made.

  Bre gathered up the cleaning supplies, following her ma back downstairs and stowing them away before she washed her hands. She placed an apron over her dress, and began to help her mother finish dinner.

  The Thorn family sat to dinner late, having finished serving the last patron. The family was a jolly lot; there was much chatter, laughing, and ribbing among the siblings and their parents.

  Trey, the sixteen-year-old, called out, “Da, Her Grace is hiring more help!”

  “Just figured that out, dummy?” their older brother jeered. “She being advisor now and all with an entire kingdom to help the king run, it’s to be expected.”

  Trey glared back. “Dummy yourself. Not for the kingdom, for her! As part of her household.”

  Nathan sopped some sauce up with a piece of bread. “You wouldn’t be thinking of trying to find a way around my orders to not become a soldier, would ye? Because I won’t put up with you learning to be a personal guard.” He nailed his son with his gaze.

  His two little sisters beside him giggled as they whispered behind their hands in between pretending to feed their dolls.

  “I knew it!” his mother shrieked. “What is so wrong with being a respectable and prosperous innkeeper like your father?”

  “Yeah. Besides, I'll be needing help once Da retires and I fully take over,” the eldest brother retorted between mouthfuls of meat.

  “Exactly!” Nathan replied, giving Levi an approving nod.

  “Girls, stop feeding your dolls. You’re making a mess,” Mrs. Thorn reproved her daughters.

  Bre sat quietly and ate, thoughts churning inside her. She remembered the conversation she’d had with the duchess when Her Grace first came to live in their town.

  Trey continued bullheadedly. “I could be a butler! Or even first footman,” he insisted over the scoffs of Levi, and leaned over his plate to deliver his impassioned plea to his father. “Just think of it, Da! Isn’t that as prestigious as being an inn keep?”

  “Firstly, you don’t know anything about buttling. ’Tis a lot different than serving in an inn like ours, no matter how fine the Silver Thorn be,” Nathan lectured, his knife waggling as he did so. “Secondly, advisors come and go.”

  “But not duchesses,” Trey protested. “And I can learn to be a butler.”

  “From whom? You’d have to go to the great houses and be taken on as a mere lowly footman first. It’d be years before you got enough experience, and by then she’ll have the spot filled,” Levi scoffed.

  Trey pelted his brother with a crust from his bread. “What’s wrong with me trying? It’ll be years before Da retires.”

  Nathan continued to eat, and caught his wife’s eye. He knew the look she was giving him. He sighed around his mouthful of food as the two brothers continued to argue. He believed everyone had his place, whether they had been born into it or not. He saw no harm in at least trying to better oneself.

  “Knock it off, you two!” the inn keep bellowed at his sons. “Trey, if it means that much to you, you may apply to be a footman. However, if you don’t get it, I expect you to return to your work here. Understood?”

  “What!? You know he won’t get it! He doesn’t know any more about being a footman than he does being a butler!” Levi protested. “Then he’ll just mope around here and be useless when he doesn’t get a spot.”

  “I promise, Da. Thank you.” Trey puffed out his chest smugly as he shoveled more food in.

  * * *

  After dinner had been cleared away and Trey finished his chores, he carefully washed and groomed himself, putting on his best suit of clothes. He was surprised to find his sister waiting at the back door for him.

  “You don’t mind if I come along for luck, do you? Besides, it would be nice to see what the inside of a duchess’s house looks like.”

  “I don’t want it to look like I need a minder,” he protested with some heat. “I want her to think I’m mature enough to do the job.”

  “Please? Besides, I did perform guide service for her. I can be your reference, let her know how well you do your work here.” Bre stated her case.

  She waited while her brother’s brow creased in thought. Finally, he nodded and they stepped out into the dusk together. Snow crunched beneath their boots as they rounded the corner of the inn and crossed the courtyard. As they stepped outside the gates, the crazy priest was still ranting and raving.

  “Why don’t the guards do something about him?” Bre whispered nervously as they navigated their way around the group of ragged townspeople who stood listening. Many shouted agreement or shot glares toward the town homes lining the street.

  “I dunno, maybe the nobles haven’t complained enough yet. Maybe they think with the changes going on, it’s okay.”

  “Don’t let them see us,” Bre breathed out as they gained the opposite side of the street. “I just have a bad feeling about him.”

  The two siblings paused a moment to turn and look at the crowd around the man. They listened to his ravings, then slipped inside the partly closed great gates to the duchess’s mansion. A small line waited outside one of the cottages. They took their place at the end of the line, huddled in their cloaks, each lost in their thoughts. Despite the length, the line moved at a more or less steady pace. Trey and Bre were sixth to enter when slaves came out and replenished the wood in the braziers Her Grace had provided to help keep those waiting somewhat warm and to illuminate the darkness. She or someone in charge had also sent several slaves out with trays of hot cider for the people. Slowly the line moved forward. Snow was beginning to fall when Trey and Bre were admitted inside a small front room to join other applicants. Some sat around a crackling fireplace, chatting or pacing as they waited.

  Bre looked about avidly, a bit disappointed the mansion wasn’t rebuilt enough for use. The sitting room was rather plain and homely in her eyes, better suited for a farmer than a powerful and wealthy duchess. Her brother greeted the others, and as was his friendly nature, joined in on the conversation. She added her own brief comments when able. After a bit, her brother was admitted through the inner door and new people joined the group inside.

  It seemed time ticked by, and Bre became worried when her brother didn’t come back out, even though others had gone in after him. When the slave appeared, she was startled to hear her name being called.

  “Yes, I am here.” She popped up and followed the man through the door. Anxiety made her insides feel as if they twisted.

  She was surprised to find herself escor
ted into the duchess’s office and before she could protest, the door shut behind her.

  “Hello Bre.” Her Grace smiled warmly as she stood and gestured for the young woman to seat herself before the worktable as she retook her own chair.

  “I’m sorry, I think there’s been a mistake,” Bre apologized.

  “I should be disappointed to learn if there was,” came the smiling reply.

  Bre’s heart beat faster. “I was merely wondering what had become of my brother. We arrived together and I have not seen him since he was admitted.”

  “He has joined a few others on a tour. I believe he will be heading back to the inn soon enough. Are you sure that is the only reason you have come? I am sorry to say I do not require your guide services at this time. Perhaps there is another job I can offer you which you would be amenable to doing?”

  She blinked and her answer came tumbling out before she thought. “Beyond my guide skills I only know how to help run my parents’ inn.”

  “You are the eldest female, correct?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “I would imagine your mother has taught you how to keep a pantry stocked, how to order the supplies needed, how to manage the slaves working for you along with the linen and dishware?” the duchess asked.

  A crease appeared between Bre’s eyes. “Yes, of course, Your Grace. Not to be rude but I—” Her words were waved off.

  “It occurs to me the skills your mother has instilled in you are not much different from those used by a head housekeeper.”

  The young woman’s eyes widened. Surely she couldn’t be hearing the duchess correctly. “That is true; however, I have not much experience to go on. I have always had my mother to rely upon. She would correct any mistakes I made before they could become real problems. I have also never had a hand in buying new slaves or selling those who were disobedient.”

  It was as if the grand lady before her didn't process what she was being told. “My staff is small. I will not need more until the mansion is repaired enough to be livable. That may be at least another two years. Surely it would give you ample opportunity to settle into the position? I am willing to consent to the experiment as long as you agree any situation which you feel is unmanageable is brought to my attention.” Her Grace paused before continuing. “You will be given a suite of rooms for yourself, uniforms, and what I believe you will consider a fair wage.” She named the price.

  Bre couldn't help but sit and blink in stunned shock. She would have a safe, steady job outside her home until she was ready to marry which wouldn’t rely upon guide jobs.

  “I—may I have a day to think over your generous offer?” Bre cautiously held her breath.

  Her Grace inclined her head. “Of course. I shall have Susafan show you about briefly.” She rang a small bell on top of her desk and after a few moments the door opened.

  A middle-aged woman peered in. “Susafan, please show Bre about. She is considering the head housekeeper’s position,” Illyria commanded.

  The woman’s brows rose, but she merely motioned to the young woman to follow her. Bre blushed, partly in embarrassment, partly in anger. She followed Susafan down the hall and through a rough doorway which looked as if it had been cut between two different dwellings on the grounds.

  “How old are you, girl?” Susafan bluntly asked, stopping in the middle of the deserted hall.

  Bre prickled at the tone. “Eighteen. I have lived and worked in my parents’ inn since I was five.”

  “Psh! ’Tis not the same at all. You won’t have a mother to answer to, but Her Grace, and any mistake you make can be costly and bring disgrace upon the whole household.”

  “I appreciate what I’m sure you mean to be kind advice, but I have asked for a day to consider,” Bre replied stiffly.

  The lady’s maid looked her up and down, contemptuously it seemed to Bre. “You’re young enough to marry, almost past the stage for it. This position may well put any end to those hopes you may have. You won’t have time to be gadding about or entertaining suitors, so just forget those thoughts right now.”

  The opposition she was encountering—for a job she had not even intended on applying for—made her determined to consider the offer more seriously than she had been planning on.

  “Thank you for your concern. I shall reflect upon it properly when I am home,” Bre coolly replied. “If you would be so kind as to finish showing me around?” She straightened her already perfect posture, looking the older woman directly in her eyes. After a moment, they continued on.

  * * *

  Bre eased in the back door to the family side of the inn, hoping not to be noticed. A celebration was currently going on, and the youngest children were allowed up past their normal bedtime. The small parlor was cozy with a fire burning and lit by numerous oil lamps. Her youngest brother minded a kettle of corn, and she could smell ale and wine.

  “Bre!” her little sisters squealed, jumping up and down, giggling wildly for no apparent reason.

  “Sis! Where have you been?” Trey called out. “I looked everywhere for you once I was done!”

  She gave a strained smile and a poor excuse. “I saw a friend there and we were chatting. Sorry, I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

  Her mother tsked, but handed her daughter a glass of wine. Bre took a sip, expecting it to be watered, and nearly spluttered upon finding out it wasn’t.

  “To my second son, for becoming a footman in a duchess’s household,” Nathan toasted.

  The family raised their glasses and toasted Trey, who, despite his obvious embarrassment at the attention, shone with pride. The impromptu party lasted for another hour, then their mother took the younger children upstairs and tucked them into bed. Bre’s father motioned for her to clean up.

  “I want to talk to you about your tardiness when you are done.”

  Bre’s parents were sitting by the fireplace when she had finished cleaning up. She stood before them, hands clasped before her waist.

  “Trey’s situation has made us realize you, too, are old enough to be starting a household of your own. However, your actions earlier were not very responsible—and foolish, given any man can walk about this street at this hour unchallenged since the raids,” her father added sourly.

  “I’m sorry. It shan’t happen again.” Bre apologized, heart beating hard.

  “I should hope not,” her mother lamented. “You will only have tomorrow at breakfast to spend with him. He will begin his position afterward, living at the mansion.”

  “Even being just across the street, he won’t have time to stop and spend with you the way you two do,” her father warned her.

  Bre licked her lips, bowing her head in understanding briefly. She decided if she were going to seriously consider a position of great responsibility, she should start acting worthy of the honor shown her.

  “I know my lack of concern for the family’s feelings when I failed to return in a due manner was selfish. I apologize. I, too, have been considering my future. I know most girls my age have been married since age sixteen or fourteen, and have given birth to several children. With that in mind, I also wish to ask you both for counsel,” Bre said.

  Her parents stared at her as if they had never seen her before, then exchanged glances. By the way they shifted positions, she could tell her tone alerted them this was no ordinary request.

  “Of course you can.” Her mother’s smile was fearful.

  “Best have a seat,” her father added, and waited for his oldest daughter to do so. “Now what is it you seek?”

  “I want to first say I had no intention of seeking out for myself what I am about to tell you. I was waiting for Trey when Her Grace asked for me to speak with her. During our brief conversation, she mentioned she was looking for a housekeeper.” Bre wet her lips. “She thought the skills I am learning under Mother would transition to working for her.”

  For a moment, there was silence except for the crackle of flame. Her parents sent qu
estioning looks to each other.

  “Bre, dear, are you sure you heard her correctly? Are you sure she said housekeeper and not housemaid? 'Tis an easy enough mistake.”

  “No, Mother. Her exact words were ‘head housekeeper.’ She understands I lack the life experiences an older woman will have.” Bre continued, summarizing the conversation she’d had with the Duchess Maison du Corbeau.

  Once more, silence filled the room; her parents appeared shocked, and not a little dubious. Bre felt a growing certainty inside herself that she didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity. She stated her case to her parents of why she could succeed. When she finished speaking, they protested, but it was for form’s sake only. The three understood Bre was right.

  Her mother sniffed and hugged her daughter. “I wish you well, and . . . well, if the two years don’t quite work out, there is no shame in returning to the inn.”

  Her father squeezed her tight and his voice was gruff with suppressed emotion. “You make sure you do your best, understand? I won’t have it said my daughter failed because she didn't give her all to the job. You show them all wrong, and succeed.”

  “I will.” Bre swiped at her tears as she stepped back.

  Her mother sighed and fussed with her daughter’s braid. “You have considered you may not have any chance at marriage if you succeed at this post?”

  A nervous giggle slipped out. “Her Grace’s body slave said the same thing as well. I am sure should the chance arise, Her Grace will not deny me the opportunity, not when she is so open-minded already.”

  A watery smile from her mother was her reply. “Things change. There is no constant. As long as you are aware and have considered if you can be happy with the life you choose, should that opportunity never occur.”

  “Yes, I have.” Bre assured them both with more confidence than she felt on that particular subject.

  “Well, we should all get some rest, then. Tomorrow always comes earlier than we want,” her mother said.