The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens)

by Annie Eppa

  Her arrival in the city had not come unnoticed, either. The carriage she rode on was marked with the Temple of Inne-Anneah’s sigil - an outstretched golden dove - and those familiar with such symbols knew what it contained. A number of people thronged the streets to gawk at the carriage and the horses as it rumbled by, at the bodyguards on either side, riding at attention. If most were unaware of the temple’s colors, then the soldiers alone would have told them that someone important had come to the city. Perhaps the earl himself had informed the others of her arrival, and the news had spread. After all, Adelai thought wryly, there was no use contracting the services of a shrinemaiden if everyone and their mothers were not aware of the fact.

  The earl’s manor was easily twice the size and height of its nearest rival, almost like a small castle itself. The man himself was standing just outside his gates, surrounded by his servants and guards. He was a tall, older man not yet past his prime, with a serious, handsome face and keen brown eyes. The only indication that he was older than he looked was the slight thinning of hair along his forehead, peppered by alternating shades of white and gray. Beside him stood a younger man, easily identified as his son by the physical similarities to his father’s, and not more than eighteen or nineteen years of age. Unlike his sire’s open, gentle face, his was scowling and angry, and he stared at her the way a wolf might watch deer.

  “Welcome to our humble abode, my lady.” The earl announced in a low, pleasant voice, as the coachman drew the doors of her carriage open. He stepped forward, and Adelai accepted his hand to step out. A low gasp rose from among the onlookers when she emerged.

  Adelai had planned her dress carefully, stopping by a nearby inn to don these changes, aided by her chaperone. She wore a beautiful gown of embroidered lace against fine indigo silk that complimented her eyes. Small pearls were sewn into the cloth, contrasting against the richness of the brocade, and the corset she wore hugged her body and rounded her breasts, which her neckline covered only enough to display their fullness but hide most else. It was a simple enough dress, little else stitched into the cloth as there would be with some of her other more opulent gowns. Adelai knew that many people in the city were accustomed to seeing the riches and jewels of the nobles, and so selected a much more demure, simple gown that hugged her curves and showed off her figure to its utmost. To highlight this stringency, the maid had woven small garlands of purple roses into her hair, each lock artfully designed and trussed.

  “Thank you, milord.” Adelai said softly. She was glad that her manner and voice hid the small butterflies still in her stomach. “I am honored to serve.”

  “I am Allan, and this is my boy, Daken.” The boy glared at her. “Please, allow me.” After the man offered her his arm, they made their way inside the manor, and Adelai knew the news would soon spread over the city, that a shrinemaiden has arrived to take up her contract with the earl of Sevrigne.

  A large bedroom had been provided for her during her stay. While it had none of the homeliness of her old quarters in the temple, it was a beautiful room, with ornate wooden carvings and gold-gilded furniture of the highest quality. “It’s beautiful.” She laughed when the earl asked, “I think I will love staying here.”

  “I am glad.” The earl said, with a smile. “It must have been a tiring journey. I have assigned one of my servants, Millie, at your disposal, for your stay here. Feel free to rest for as long as you like; supper will be served in a few hours. I am sure you will have a lot of questions, which I will only be too happy to answer afterward.”

  He left after a small bow, and with little ceremony. Adelai had heard from other older shrinemaidens that many masters were often selfish and inconsiderate despite the standard protocol expected - sometimes a few even so bold as to demand their services as soon as they arrived. Adelai was grateful that the Earl was not disposed to act that way, though her curiosity was growing by the minute. The earl did not seem like the kind of man to avail himself of a shrinemaiden, even when he could afford it. Was she then purely for ornamentation, a sign of his status?

  The young maid named Millie arrived promptly, a slim waif of a girl but with round apple cheeks, and was soon helping Adelai store the rest of her dresses and toiletries, before helping her out of her dress. “Milady,” She said shyly, “My master has instructed me to draw you a bath in the next room.”

  A bath sounded wonderful, and Adelai was quick to accept. She sighed softly as she stepped into the warm water, washing off the what little dirt and grime from the journey still lingering, while Millie washed her back, keeping a respectful silence. Afterward, she donned a loose robe and thanked the maid, the young girl surprised and pleased by her words before retiring, but not before promising to wake the shrinemaiden an hour before the meal was to be made ready. Though she wanted to beg leave to explore the city, Adelai felt tired from both the anticipation and the stress of several days’ journey, and knew that she needed a few hours of sleep to freshen up and look her most presentable when supper came round. She slipped into bed, and the softness of the mattress and covers made her remember the bed in the temple chambers, where for countless times her captain would plow into her again and again, her impending orgasms a certainty. A faint shiver raced through her, at the memory.

  Adelai sighed and closed her eyes, deliberately pushing the thought away from her mind. Sleep, first. She would have all the time in the world to worry about what came next later.

  Those few hours of sleep did well to refresh her, and she was awake by the time Millie tapped timidly on her door. With the girl’s help, Adelai slipped into a less ornate gown that would have been unremarkable enough except it was made of a rich blue silk. The garland of flowers though, were once more woven into her hair, and by the time she was prepared to head downstairs for the meal the earl and his son were already sitting at a long table that could easily have housed a dozen more.

  Ever the gentleman, the earl rose and bowed again as Adelai entered. “You flatter me, my lord,” she said with a laugh. “But please, that is not necessary. For every time you bow then I feel I must curtsy back in return, and I fear we will not get much done at mealtimes or at any other if this keeps up.”

  The earl laughed as well. The son said nothing, only continued looking back at her with hungry eyes. “I concede your point,” the older man said, “allow me to draw up your seat, at least.”

  “Now,” he continued, as the servants came to bring plates of roast chicken and fish to their table, followed closely by thick, rich stew. “You must know that I was one of those present at your bidding earlier this year, and was immediately won over by your looks and bearing, and I am sure others have paid you more flattering compliments than the meager one I just made. That the King Belair of Atalantea paid the highest of compliment to you, only confirms this. I must thank you, Lady Adelai. By accepting my offer, you have made me the most envied man in Arbentide - no, the whole of Sarcopia.”

  “You are too kind, my lord,” Adelai smiled, enjoying his flattery. “I’m afraid it was more the luck of the goddess, than skill or anything else.”

  “Whether it truly be by luck or skill, I cannot deny the change it has affected on my circumstances,” the Earl said, with a becoming grin. “Even the king, I fancy, has turned green with envy when he heard of my news.”

  Adelai felt her stomach clench when he had mentioned the king, but kept the expression on her face playful, not wanting him to see her react at all to this, lest she give herself away. “And now you exaggerate my worth.”

  “Ah, but I could see it as clear as day on his face. Perhaps sometime in the next week you will be able to see that for yourself. Already I am beset by invitations to visit you by other nobles in his entourage.” The earl sighed. “I do not know how King Belair’s court stands, but here in Sarcopia sycophants begging for sole possession of the king’s ear abounds, and everyone has an intrigue by which they mean to ingratiate themselves.”

  “Including yourself, my lord?” Adelai teased.<
br />
  He laughed again. “Maybe so, but I already have the king’s trust even without. I can see why the Atalantean king paid highly for you. Your forwardness is quite a breath of fresh air, and one this kingdom sorely needs. And I have had enough of being called ‘my lord’ in court when they really mean “you bastard”, to last me several lifetimes. A simple ‘Allan’ will do, just as well.” Those intelligent eyes fastened on hers as he said that, and Adelai saw just that tiny flicker of desire in his gaze. She could her feel her breath catch and her face grow warm, unable to halt her body’s reaction to that sudden possessive look in his eyes. She had been wrong in her assumptions. She had thought that the kindly earl intended to keep her as nothing more than a trophy, but that expression on his face, brief as it was and very similar to the ones she often seen on the captain’s face, alone told her all she needed to know.

  “If you say so, Allan,” she said softly, almost submissively.

  He seemed to sense her response, for now he smiled knowingly. Then he reached for his wine, and the moment passed. “Tell me all about yourself, Adelai,” he said then, in a regular tone. “Is this your first time outside of Atalantea?”

  She told him a little bit about life in the Temple of Inne-Anneah, of the discipline the high priestess constantly enforced, and of the friends she made there with her fellow sisters. All this time she had almost forgotten about the earl’s son, Daken, who was quiet and said nothing, barely touching his own food. In the middle of a story she was telling, she happened to glance over at him, and found to her surprise that he had leaned forward in his seat, a small sneer on his face. His eyes were trained on her gown’s neckline, which showed off the faint hint of curves rounding out her bosom.

  The earl noticed this about the same time she had. “Daken!” He snapped. “Learn your manners!”

  “What’s to learn, old man?” The young boy sneered. “What other use would there be to bring a delectable little creature like her into the house, other than to recoup the price you paid her with her body?” He rose, deliberately raked his eyes over her again, and then, still grinning, sauntered out the room.

  “I apologize,” Adelai said, a little startled by the boy’s demeanor. “I didn’t mean to give any offense - ”

  “Please forgive him. He is a rash youth, and has been spoiled all his life. My fault, I’m afraid. His mother had always coddled him, being our only child, and raised him with no care to his manners. She passed away some months ago, and I have not had the heart to discipline him since. I had hoped that your arrival might help him, but it seems to have had backfired.”

  “I see.”

  “Have you by any chance been taught in the temple, among other things, the care and disciple of rash youths?” Allan joked, as if trying to ease the tension. “He had never been this crude, even after his mother died. I fear that the influence of his other companions are the cause of this coarse attitude.”

  “Don’t worry, my - Allan.” Adelai said, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. “I have barely been here a day. In time he may get used to my presence.”

  “Ah, my dear, but does anyone ever grow accustomed to your presence?” And then the look was back in the earl’s eyes, though it was apparent that unlike his son, he was stamping down his sudden desire.

  She could choose to back down. She sensed that he was giving her an opportunity to do just that. Thoughts of Thornton entered her mind again, but she brushed them away. This was her duty after all - the captain himself had stressed that enough times, though her stomach still turned at the prospect, even with his consent.

  “I believe,” she felt her own, nearly breathless voice answering back, “that it would depend on proximity, Allan.”

  That slow, attractive smile broke over his handsome face again. “You are quite something, Adelai.”

  Once the dinner was done, he rose from the table and extended a hand out to her again, bidding her to rise. As they made their way back upstairs, Adelai thought he would take her into his bed that very night, until he led her back into her room. He bent down and kissed the back of her hand tenderly. “Good night, Lady Adelai,” was all he said before turning away. Breathing hard, Adelai watched him leave before she entered her own room, sitting down hard on the bed with a sigh. Perhaps he was still mourning his dead wife to take action, and she could not help but feel a little thankful for the reprieve. His son, Daken, she knew, was likely to be a different matter altogether. She had an uneasy feeling that he would be causing trouble in the future.

  But for now she could rest and plan for tomorrow. Millie arrived again shortly after, but Adelai soon dismissed her, informing her gently that she would only need help with the bathing, and storing away some of her more elaborate dresses, but that she need not attend to every other detail of her toilette. The young maid protested, fearing her master would think she was not performing her services as ably as she should have. Eventually, she was satisfied that Adelai needed no further attending that night and bowed her way out, leading Adelai alone to contemplate the flickering candle left behind. In the morning, she decided, she would find a way to communicate to her high priestess that she had arrived safely, but couldn’t keep from wondering where Thornton was, and if he had heard she had finally arrived in his city.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A Seduction

  Many guests visited the earl of Sevrigne’s house during the next few days, attracted by the new shrinemaiden just recently installed in his manor. Priestess Saleia’s instructions when it came to entertaining visitors had been thorough. Adelai had been serving in this manner since she was a novice; often offering tea and other refreshments to the more senior shrinemaidens while teaching matrons watched them for any lapses in decorum. By the time she had attained senior shrinemaiden status herself, she had served foreign diplomats, nobility, and once even the crown prince of Madrika, at parties selected by the high priestess.

  “Any maid can serve tea and crumpets,” the wise old woman had said, “but maids do not attract attention with looks alone, without something more substantial between their ears.” In this way they were also trained, if somewhat indirectly, in the art of conversation, with many considered to be the most powerful among all the kingdoms.

  In one memorable test, the priestess had even ordered them to serve the maids and servants of many of these nobility, to treat them as they would have their masters. “When you play hostess, the social status of the guests you are entertaining do not matter,” she told them. “The only thing of importance is that they are your guests to be entertained.”

  There were military commanders and wealthy merchants who had come to pay their compliments to the earl. There were giggling wives and daughters, along with other cousins with titles just as distinguished as his. To them all Adelai strove to be the perfect hostess, waiting on them like she had been the mistress of the household for years, welcoming and conversing with them like they were old friends. The looks the earl shot her way were approving, pleased he had chosen well.

  The guests seemed equally delighted with her. Though she was the earl’s hostess, many of the guests brought with them many gifts, claiming this to be a tradition among Sarcopians. The Marquess of Alatia presented her with miniature slippers, made by the best glassmaker in the city. The Baron of Loqua was a shy, stuttering man who gave her an exquisitely wrought teacup as a present. “You are the talk of the city, my dear,” said the Lady Wilchestrom, whose husband was an important furrier that catered almost exclusively to the rich. Judging from the luxurious, expensive-looking mink stole she wore, it was a thriving business. The woman herself was a prettily plump woman with carefully coiled brown hair and dark eyes. She was cheerful and good-natured, and had made her a gift of orchids, all of a beautiful fuschia color. “It is not everyday that we get to sit in a drawing-room with the shrinemaiden who’d taken the auctions by storm!”

  “I am sure I do not warrant such fame for something I had had no control over,” Adelai demurred, laughi
ng as she lifted the bouquet to her nose and breathed in its soft, enticing scent.

  “Ah, but it is easy to see why royalty is so taken with you, my dear! You have very beautiful eyes - a lighter purple than I had ever expected, nearly the exact shade as my prized orchids. I have decided,” she added, with some determination, “to throw a small ball next month, and you shall be the guest of honor. Oh, don’t shake your head at me like that, my dear! I take a liking to people very easily, and I have taken a liking to you! If anything else, I shall be the first to throw a party in your honor, if only to boast about being the first to do so! It shall annoy the Lady Sommersent to no end, as she has similar intentions,” she added, chuckling.

  Adelai faintly recalled that the Lady Sommersent in question was a thin, pale woman with high cheekbones and a haughty air.

  “I shall have beaten her to the punch. Don’t worry, Adelai (can I call you Adelai?) I throw better parties than she, and so I’ll have saved you a night’s worth of boredom.”

  Most of the other guests were not as flamboyant as the Lady Wilchestrom, but Adelai had been trained to remember faces and names. There was the Count of Ruckinsridge, who gave her another bouquet, this time of white roses. He was a consummate drunk but an enthusiastic teller of stories, and rather than entertaining him Adelai found herself entertained, as the man told tale after tale, mostly of his military exploits in war. She suspected that the man was exaggerating his role in many of these battles, but the count had a way of telling them that always made it feel like a little white lie shouldn’t get in the way of a good yarn.

  Many of the other men who had submitted a contract for her had come to visit, if only to congratulate the earl for his successful bid. “I should have bid higher for you, milady,” Enzo, the powerful merchant who had made his riches in the grain industry, told her with a laugh. He looked more like a tavern brawler than a merchant really, towering several inches over her with his heavy beard and large muscles, and had offered her yards of beautiful silk cloth as a gift. He showed no resentment for losing out, and in fact was kind enough to answer all the questions Adelai had had regarding his trade.