The Second Sister (The Amendyr Series)

by Magdon, Rae D.

  Belladonna rolled her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice dripped with disgust. “You're so predictable, Luci. No imagination at all. You can do better than that, surely.”

  I turned to my younger stepsister, the woman I had begun to trust, and grasped at my last hope of salvation. “But...you hate each other...you...”

  Belladonna did not respond. Her handsome face remained still as stone. Even though she had betrayed me, I could not forget how striking her figure was, how commanding she appeared.

  “Belle and I have formed a temporary alliance,” Luciana explained. “We will go right back to fighting over our inheritance as soon as you are out of the way.”

  “You...you seriously think you will get away with throwing me out a window? You must be touched.” But I knew they probably could. Even if any of the servants suspected that my death had not been a suicide, they would not be in a position to help me. A servant's word against a noble's was worth less than nothing and Lady Kingsclere was obviously too out of her wits to save me. My stepsisters had complete control over Baxstresse, and over me.

  Belladonna shook her head at Luciana's heated face. “Disgustingly unoriginal. There are better ways of putting the princess in her place. Changing her identity, perhaps.”

  Luciana's eyes fired at that suggestion. She did not need much prompting from her sister to latch on to the idea. “That has possibilities. Stripping her of her new title would be a useful lesson in humility. What a pity, after her father worked so hard to get it for her.”

  I never wanted a title, I thought and tried to say, but the words jarred themselves against my teeth and did not come out. My father was one that had clung to the idea of nobility. Sandleford had not been enough for him. His longing for power had gotten me into this horrid mess.

  “No better than a common slut, really,” Luciana continued, “grasping at things you have no right to.”

  “Your mother is the one who married into our family in the first place,” I snapped.

  Luciana could not hold in her anger. She slapped me across the cheek and sent me reeling. My legs trembled as I touched my face, and something warm and wet ran down my neck. Her nails had broken one side of my mouth and the skin of my cheek. Bright colors swam around my head. I stumbled back against the bed.

  “Luciana.” Belladonna's voice cracked sharply, refocusing Luciana's attention. Her face quickly relaxed into her usual expression of superiority and disgust. “I was right. You're too weak to let her go.” My breath caught at the thought of freedom, but Belladonna's eyes told me that freedom was not what she had in mind. “You want to hurt her so much...tear her...I can see it. Your body is trembling.” Luciana flinched. “Oh, you do want her badly...Is torture and sex all you ever think about? You never could resist the pretty ones. Pathetic.”

  “You're calling me pathetic?” Luciana snarled. “You could never throw her out that window, even if you wanted to.”

  “And you could never keep yourself from using her and breaking her, like the rest of your toys.”

  “Couldn't I?”

  Belladonna narrowed her eyes. “No, you couldn't.”

  The argument was quickly becoming too confusing for me to follow, but I could sense that some kind of bargain was about to be struck. I knew that tone of voice all too well from my father.

  “I will wager the necklace on it.”

  For the second time, Belladonna's carefully painted expression cracked. “I will find something to match you with. We have a bet. You will never be able to keep from indulging.”

  “We can put her in the servant's quarters to keep her close,” Luciana said. “Get someone to spread the news that Eleanor of Sandleford has taken ill upon hearing the news of her father's death and can see no one.” That part of the conversation, at least, I understood. What I had no way of knowing was how much hurt their bet would cause. At the time, I was grateful they had decided not to throw me out of the window, but later, I almost took my thanks back.

  ***

  I stumbled down to the kitchen in a silent stupor, my mind completely detached from my body. My legs moved, but I was not the one doing the walking. That was some other Eleanor, a little blonde idiot that had been unable to defend herself from her own stepsisters. It could not be Ellie, she would never let anyone strike her, not even Luciana.

  I worked some moisture into my dry lips, tasting blood on my tongue. I prodded at the broken side of my mouth. Sticky red warmth coated my fingertips as my mind slammed back into my body. I went from dazed to hysterical in a matter of seconds. The sting reminded me that I had let Luciana slap me. I was ashamed.

  Somehow, I found myself in the kitchen. Perhaps my shattered self had remembered Mam's offer of protection, even though I had been out of my head. Steaming heat rose around me and colored my cheeks as I stood there, bare footed and brokenhearted. Mam turned around after taking a hot loaf of bread from the oven and saw me. Her eyes glinted like dark wet stones as she looked at me. The lines etched into her face seemed deeper, stretched and cut with worry. My gut lurched and I slumped forwards, falling into her arms.

  “They want me to be a servant.” The words spilled through my lips in a stream. “How can she make me? She wanted to kill me...She wanted to kill me! She could have...she tried to throw me out the window.”

  Mam pressed two fingertips to my lips, covering my soft hands with her rough ones. “Hush, child,” she urged, but I was angry at her calmness. She should have been shocked, horrified at what Luciana had done to me. It did not matter that I had not explained my story yet. Mam was supposed to take care of me.

  “She wanted to throw me out the window!” I screamed again, stamping my bare foot on the floor with a painful slap. What a sight I must have looked, in my half-torn nightgown with a bloody lip and a bruised cheek. “Why didn't you stop her? Why didn't you—”

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” Mam ordered, and I obeyed. I told her in breaking sobs, my voice catching as I explained how Luciana had hit me and threatened my life. By the end of my story, fresh tears had burned trails on my cheeks. “Dry your face now, Ellie. You have friends here, mayhap more than you know.”

  I gave her a blank look. Mam touched my cheek, brushing away a clinging tear. “You're kind and polite when you aren't out of your head, even to the servants. For that, we'll be helping you.”

  “Can she really turn me into a servant?”

  “Until we find a way to help you, aye. Luciana's a bad enemy for anyone to be having. A servant couldn't speak against her. But you're safe for now.”

  “Safe?” I said, the pitch of my voice rising. “How can I possibly be safe? Luciana threatened to kill me, or have you forgotten that?”

  “She made a bargain with Miss Belladonna, Ellie. Luciana's pride is more important to her than hurting you.”

  “She could kill me anyway.”

  Mam and stepped a few paces back, turning to the bread she had left on the counter. She held her hand just over it to see if the loaf was cool enough and took a knife to begin slicing. “Miss Luciana likes to win. She'd cut off her arm rather than admit to Miss Belladonna that she was right.”

  “Why did she do it? She was kind to me at first. We read together in the library. Money never seemed to have that strong a hold on her.”

  “Only Miss Belladonna could be answering that for you, child. But don't you be looking on her too harshly, now. She saved your life, and she was the only one able.”

  “Saved my life and sentenced me to the kitchen.”

  “A servant's lot isn't as bad as you think.”

  I blushed. “Sorry...I just...I'm not...”

  “You're upset. I'll be forgetting all of your screaming after it's over.”

  I lowered my eyes to my feet. “I suppose I have no choice,” I whispered, my anger seeping out of my shoulders and leaving my body limp. “If I ran away or went for help, all bargains would be off and I would be dead before I was saved.”

  “That you would.” Mam took
a rag from next to her hand and wetted it before handing it to me. “Clean that pretty face.” I wiped the tears and dried blood from my cheeks, careful not to press hard where Luciana's hand had bruised me. “It's still morning and I've got a full day of work. I'll be taking you to Cate and Sarah. They'll be showing you how to get started after we get you some clothes.”

  And did Cate ever show me how to get started. I saw a different side of Cate that morning, and gained a new appreciation for the timid girl I had pitied so deeply. This time, Cate was the strong one and I was the one that needed shelter and comfort. She was a hard worker, thorough in every task she performed, and she found it easy to instruct me.

  We started with cleaning. Usually, Cate spent her mornings in the kitchen helping with breakfast, but Mam had declared that she did not want me anywhere near a stove yet, lest I set fire to something—probably myself. Instead, we went to the library with lye soap, water, and several rags to clean the bookshelves and the floor.

  At first I just stared at my palms, pretending to ignore Cate as she scoured the floor, her hair moving back and forth over her shoulders as she worked. Would my hands be hard and calloused from work soon? After a few seconds, watching while Cate worked proved to be too awkward to bear. I lowered myself to my knees beside her, reaching for the spare rag draped over the rim of the bucket. The coarse material of the working dress that I had borrowed rubbed against my skin without the protection of a corset or petticoat. These new clothes were nothing like the gowns I was used to.

  Minutes crept by as we worked together to clean the seemingly endless stretch of library floor. The scent of lye tingled painfully in my nose, and my hands were stinging, scraped pink, especially at the heels. If I worked much harder, I thought, I would bleed all over the nice clean floor that I had spent absolutely ages scrubbing, and I would have to wash it all over again.

  Cate rested gentle fingers on my arm, perceptive to my mood. “I'm sorry, Ellie. Mam's only doing this for your own good. If Miss Luciana finds out that you haven't been worked hard, she'll hurt you.” It struck me then that she had used my name for the first time instead of my title. I smiled a little.

  “You should stop calling her Miss Luciana, Cate. She is a horrible snake.”

  “You shouldn't cross her.” I saw a flicker of fear in Cate's eyes, and I felt a sob break in my chest. Luciana probably enjoyed tormenting Cate and the rest of the servants. I was sure I would be no exception. In fact, she would probably single me out for extra unpleasant surprises.

  “You know, this is the most you have ever said to me at one time.” I thought I saw Cate's face brighten for a moment, but I could not be sure.

  “It won't be so bad, Ellie, you'll see. We'll think of something.”

  I wanted to believe her so badly, but I was unsure. I went back to scrubbing the floor, and Cate did the same. After that task had been finished, we dusted the bookshelves and tried to replace the books that had been left out. The library was cluttered and disorganized, so putting the books away was more difficult than it should have been.

  Finally, we went downstairs to the kitchen. I had missed breakfast. The servants had already eaten theirs early in the morning, and I assumed Luciana did not want me to take any more meals with her. There were some leftovers from lunch waiting for us when we arrived, and I ate until my stomach was stretched. I blinked my eyes lazily, wishing I could take a nap.

  I looked at my raw, pink hands and frowned. My entire body already ached, and the afternoon had only just started. I was not sure I would survive another week of this torture, or even another day. The food helped, but the tiredness lingered as we cleaned the dishes left over from the afternoon meal. Though they had already been scraped down to a fresh layer of slick skin, my hands still wrinkled as they slopped about in the water. Mercifully, Cate allowed me to rinse and dry so I would not have to touch most of the soap, but whenever any of it coated my palms, the stinging made my eyes water.

  Soon, Mam returned to the kitchen and began setting out ingredients for dinner. She gave me a sympathetic smile, but I was relieved when she did not speak. Talking seemed useless after the hours I had spent working alongside Cate.

  CHAPTER 7

  LUCIANA BEGAN HER game with the lentils on the fourth day of my slavery. I had not spoken with her since the morning she had threatened to throw me out the window, but I had seen her watching me. She looked on as I struggled with my chores, sometimes for a moment, sometimes for several minutes, hungry-eyed and vicious. I was slow and clumsy compared to Cate and Sarah and the other servants, but quick enough to recover from most of my mistakes with their help.

  Jessith learned the entire story by the second day without even asking me, and she kept lookout while I worked. When she had to leave, one of the other cats always seemed to be nearby. Even Rucifee gave my hand a friendly nudge when I fed him his dinner.

  Perhaps I should have expected Luciana's visit to the kitchen. It was only a matter of time before her sick humor lured her there. I was cleaning while Mam prepared dinner nearby. It would be another week or so, she said, before she would let me help, but she promised to teach me how to cook. Imagining several more weeks of my new life nauseated me, but I steadied my stomach and scrubbed my stack of dirty dishes. Sarah, who had not snubbed me or badgered me for gossip as I had expected, was at the other end of the room, eating a hunk of bread.

  As I reached to set aside the plate I had cleaned, the kitchen door swung open. Luciana stood there with her lovely brown hair, wickedly beautiful, and I glared at her with fresh hate. Her eyes were dark and sharp as needle points as she followed the side of a long table. She looked casually around the room, but always returned her gaze to me. Her smile clawed at my belly, and my face throbbed as my skin remembered the bruise she had left on my cheek.

  She stopped four feet away, resting her arm against a pot of lentils Mam had taken out for her soup. She studied the fireplace, her fingers curling over the edge of the table. Her other hand toyed with a pendant hanging about her throat. It was a golden circle inside a silver circle inside another golden circle. Three rings. She twirled it with her fingers. I had to tear my eyes away from the flashing metal.

  I set the clean plate to my left and reached for a bowl, but did not bother to scour it. Across the kitchen, Mam had started chopping vegetables. Though she did not say a word, I knew she was watching us. Sarah was much less subtle. She stared openly at Luciana, then at me. “Oh,” she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.

  Luciana watched me. I held perfectly still. Suddenly her hand shot out and sent the pot of lentils spinning from the table. The sound of metal crashing onto the floor made the kitchen ring. Sarah and Mam flinched. Lentils scattered into the ashes, tiny brown bumps poking out of the gray white powder. Some were lost from sight at once, others settled on top of each other, and a few missed the fireplace completely.

  “An accident,” she said, not bothering to sound sincere. “Be a dear, Ellie, and gather them up?” It was a ridiculous task. The pot had been full to the brim, and it would be nearly impossible for me to pick all of them out from the ashes. The sly Luciana I was used to had never been so openly cruel, except for when she had hit me. All of her cunning subterfuge was gone. Lady Kingsclere was sick, and she knew she did not need to be discreet any longer. She could show her wickedness openly.

  I had no choice. I set the pot upright, got on my knees, and picked a lentil from the ashes. I dropped it in and listened as it hit the bottom with a sharp ping. Sarah shot me a sympathetic glance and hurried from the room as I reached for another one. I did not blame her. What could she do?

  Soon, soot and ash coated my face and hands. My hair was tied behind my head, but it was dirty, too. Luciana smiled down at my blackened cheeks and laughed with her eyes. “Look at the princess now,” she whispered so that Mam, who had remained in the kitchen, could not hear her. “Back in the dirt you came from.”

  It took Luciana an hour before she grew bored of her game and left
me. Mam had finished dinner and was helping Sarah to serve it, since I was occupied with the lentils. I had seen them cast me pitying glances, but neither had been able to do anything with Luciana watching. I was left alone in the kitchen, still scraping through the soot and ashes for the lentils. The bottom of the pot had hardly been covered.

  Luciana repeated the cruel joke the next day, and the day after that, laughing with her eyes as I bent to pick through the soot at her feet.

  ***

  It was the fifth time that Luciana had spilled lentils in the fireplace for me to gather up. Cate and Sarah, who was turning out to be a very sweet girl despite her talkative nature, helped me gather them when they could, but both of them had their own work to do and could not stay for long. None of us wanted to see what Luciana would do if she came to watch and caught them helping me. Night came and I was left alone, my arms blackened to the elbow, my back shaking with pain and fatigue. I rubbed my eyes and stared up at the window, wincing as I stretched my neck.

  I wept, my tears cutting salty lines in the grime on my cheeks. My chest ached, heavy with shame. My humiliation was complete. Luciana had stripped me of my dignity as easily as she had cheated me out of my inheritance. Before, she had dressed me in rags, but I had stayed a lady. I carried myself like one even as I worked. But now, hunched over in the soot, dirty, tired, weeping, I was something less than human, certainly not nobility.

  I had never considered myself prideful before, but this new disgrace shattered whatever vanity I had possessed. Part of me screamed that I should not obey her, but I was afraid. If I resisted, she would kill me and say that I had died in my sickbed. The rest of the kingdom, who could not have missed Lady Kingsclere's scandalous wedding to my father—still a commoner in their eyes, despite his wealth—assumed that I was on the brink of death. Luciana made sure I was out of sight when we had visitors. If I ran, she would find me. She needed to keep me close so she could win her disgusting bet and make sure I did not receive my inheritance.