by Janeal Falor
That's absurd. Why does he keep bringing it up? “I believe it would be improper.”
“Improper? We're getting married.”
I rise. “Mother always calls Father Master, Councilman Stephen, or Father.”
He shakes his head and rubs his shoulder. “I have to be Chancellor Zade everywhere else. I'd like one place I don't have to be. Please just call me Zade.”
A barbarian does own me. “If you insist.”
“I do.” He moves behind his desk. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Of course.”
“Nice dress, by the way.”
I trip over the rug. “Thank you.”
He likes the outfit. Called it a dress, but that's probably a good thing. He didn't notice that it was too different. Katherine is wonderful.
As I head back to my room, there's a lot to think on. Much more happened in that room than I expected. A new servant. No matter what he says, I doubt I can trust the new servant. A ball to plan. I don't know how I'll ever manage. Hopefully, Chancellor Zade is able to convince Father to let Bethany come.
And the Chancellor. His attention was much different than I thought it ever could be. Though I continue thinking about all that happened and all that I need to do, the memory of his kiss lingers.
Chapter Eighteen
I wait in the entryway for my new servant. It makes me feel like mother. She often stood waiting for guests or Father like this, though always people of note, not servant girls. Cynthia lingers beside me playing with her beaded necklace.
Chancellor Zade didn't stay with us, instead rushing out to greet her. Treatment of servants in Envado must be more different than I presumed.
“I can't believe you're getting an Envadi servant,” Cynthia says. “It will make you the talk of the town. Everyone will be jealous. No one's ever had a servant from Envado before.”
“One that's paid? Doubtful they'll be envious.”
“Paid?”
“Apparently, it's how things are done there. Chancellor Zade's manservant must be as well.”
“That's different.”
I almost mention how I like the idea, but hold back. I don't want my own sister to think I'm going mad.
The front door opens and the Chancellor strides in, a huge smile on his face. Behind him is a woman. She's almost as tall as my intended, but not quite. Certainly taller than my sisters and me. She's wearing a serviceable gown. Dark blue, appropriate length, not too fancy, but neat and clean.
She's close to my age, though older or younger than me, I'm not quite sure. Her face is smooth, cheeks still a little babyish, but she carries herself as if she were, well, as if she were a man. Long striding steps, full of confidence and power. Intimidating. She's very pretty though. Her long blonde hair complements her tanned skin.
“May I present, Miss Waverly.” Chancellor Zade gives my new servant a genuine smile.
She looks down at me with piercing brown eyes and grins. “A pleasure to meet you.”
This is so different from customary servant behavior, I can do nothing but stare.
“Are you really from Envado?” Cynthia asks.
“I am.”
“Do they host balls there?”
What's she getting at?
Waverly tilts her head to the side, brow crinkled. “Of course we do.”
“Then you can help us plan.” Cynthia turns to me. “Isn't this perfect Serena? She can help make the ball really stand out. We'll make you the talk of the town. Now if only Father allows Bethany to come, it will be the best Chardonia has ever seen.”
“You're planning a ball?” Waverly asks.
“I—” The Chancellor clears his throat. “This is something I just learned about. I hoped you'd be willing to help with it.”
“I'd love to help.” Waverly faces me. “Balls are my favorite sort of thing.”
“Let's get you to your room.” Chancellor Zade turns to a waiting servant, Phyllis. “Show Miss Waverly to the servant quarters. Once she's ready, show her around and explain her duties.”
“Yes, Master,” Phyllis says.
He scowls until Waverly says, “Wonderful. I'll see you soon.” She curtsies at the Chancellor. “Master.” She turns to me and gives another curtsy. “Mistress.”
A smile flickers across his face. Phyllis leads her from the room. What sort of servant have I been gifted this time?
***
Cynthia's really taken to talking during dinner. I don't believe she's taken a bite of dessert. Rather unfortunate. It's yummy, a sort of flaky shortbread with seared and chilled bananas.
Her excitement about the festivities is a relief, if a bit much to listen to. Inviting adequate dance partners for her will have to be one of my priorities.
I polish off my dessert and wait for Cynthia and Chancellor Zade to finish. And wait. And wait.
“We must make good use of the gardens. It might be cool for the fall, but the trees will be lovely colors. If only more flowers would be in bloom.”
“We could spell them to bloom for the night,” the Chancellor suggests.
“You can do that? That's wonderful. Don't you think, Serena?”
“Yes, it will be. If you'll forgive me, I must excuse myself.” Jumping at the chance, I stand.
“I've got to leave, too,” Chancellor Zade says, already on his feet.
His dessert is untouched. Come to think of it, he didn't eat much at dinner. And why is he leaving at the same time as me?
“Goodnight, Cynthia,” he says.
“Goodnight,” she says. “I have more ideas we can discuss in the morning.”
Zade leads me through the halls. The farther we go, the more my nerves jitter inside me. It seems to take longer than usual. What could he want? Is he going to punish me for something? When we stop at the foot of the stairs leading to my room, he pulls both of my hands into his. I'm sure he can feel me shaking, but whether it's from worrying or the contact, I don't know.
He says, “If you have any issues with Waverly, will you tell me?”
Why's he so concerned? Is it for me or her? It must be for her. He's never been this way with me before. “If you wish.”
“Thank you. Please be nice to her. It's difficult being in a new country with unfamiliar people.”
“Is that how it is for you?”
His lips turn up in an almost smile. “It was. Sometimes it still is. A lot of times, I guess. Notably when I attend council meetings. I'm growing more comfortable with it, though it hasn't been long. I'm sure Waverly will adjust quickly.”
The way he says her name, it's different. Protective. Fellow countrymen have to stick together. Still, it's weird for him to care so much about a servant girl, even if they're from the same country. Maybe there's something else. Not just the way he says her name, but how he acted around her. Almost like caring. There has to be more to it. Maybe she's running away from the law and he's trying to help her escape. We're housing a fugitive!
“Is she supposed to be tarnished?”
He drops my hands. “What?”
“I don't mean to be rude, it's just, if you're going to break the law, the punishment will come down on me, as well. I've a right to know about it.” Really, I don't, but I want to know, and he's been more forthcoming than any other warlock.
He folds his arms. “What if I am breaking the law?”
I am being too forward. But, he didn't indicate a punishment with the question. And if it's to help someone like Katherine, I understand, maybe even agree with it. If he's not really breaking the law though, saying I support it could wind up with me being punished. Or turned into a tarnished myself. There's not an easy way to answer.
He stares at me, his face growing harder as time passes.
“I'm sure a Chancellor does what's right,” I say.
“She's not on a tarnished list. We don't have tarnished in Envado.”
It's my turn to stare at him. Once I'm recovered enough to speak, I say, “What do you do w
ith non-magics or those who break rules then?”
“They're punished according to what fits their crime. Sometimes imprisonment, sometimes they have to fix something or help with the community. It depends.”
“What about Waverly then?”
“What about her?”
“Why's she a servant?”
“She chose to become a servant.”
“Oh.” She chose it? How does a girl choose something? I have fifteen reasons for wanting to know. And counting. A few more months and mother will probably announce another pregnancy. “How can she do that?”
He huffs. “She just decided she wanted to do it and did.” He shifts away from me. “Council meeting tomorrow, so I won't see you until the day after.”
Tension moves between us with intangible waves. The line must have been crossed somewhere. He's acting so odd, but I can't say I regret asking. Despite his behavior, I know more than before, and without getting punished for it. “Goodnight then.”
“Night.” He heads down the hall away from me.
I head up the stairs. I said too much. When will I learn to hold my tongue? Punishment would have been dealt at home. At least a knock on the head. But Chancellor Zade didn't do that. He didn't do anything. My steps slow until I come to a halt. He never does anything.
The only spells he's ever cast on me were part of the engagement ceremony. And he's never lifted a fist at me. Perhaps he's trying to lull me into state of ease so the punishment feels harsher when finally dealt. But those kisses. If that is how he's going to treat me, will society have a problem with it? They always accept that men punish us. And how would it be for me? I resume my ascent, but continue wondering about his actions, and what will happen because of them.
Chapter Nineteen
Once I'm in my nightgown, I sit at the vanity and work on taking my hair down. It's rather pleasant doing this myself. I keep thinking of how Chancellor Zade noticed my dress and said it was nice. I hope Katherine's coming tomorrow while he's gone. I'm excited to see if she's willing to design a dress for the ball. Maybe even another dress or two for the week. That's a lot to ask without pay though. I wish there was a way for me to earn some coins like Waverly's doing.
When my hair is down, I grab a brush and work through the locks. After a few strokes, there's a knock on my door. Cynthia must have an idea that she can't wait to share. “Come in.”
Waverly bounces in the room. “Evening.” She sets a tea tray on the vanity before me.
I stop brushing my hair mid-stroke. This was supposed to stop with Phyllis. Perhaps it's some other tea. There's no reason to tamper with me when I'm just going to bed. Even if it's not the Califrasum, I've no use for any type of tea.
“What's wrong?” Waverly asks.
I stare at the tea tray. “Nothing.”
“Clearly something.” She grabs the tea pot and lifts it to a cup. “We can talk about it over—”
“No.” I slam the brush on the vanity. I won't be forced into drinking it again. She stops. Is this going to bring problems like it did with Phyllis? Please tell me it won't. “I mean, no thank you. I wouldn't care for any tea this evening.”
Her forehead wrinkles. She looks from me to the tea tray and then laughs. “Oh, don't fret. Zade told me about the Califrasum fiasco.” His name rolls easily from her. “I wouldn't drink tea either if something like that happened to me. This is just warm milk.”
He told her about that? She pours a cup and then grabs another that I hadn't noticed. “I thought we could get to know each other so I can better serve you, and warm milk is always soothing before bed. Or any time really.”
I've never heard of a stranger servant. Though perhaps since Phyllis was the only one I've had, I don't have enough to compare with. “I haven't ever tried warm milk.”
“Try it for a couple nights. It may seem strange at first, but soon you'll be asking for it. I promise to have your chocolate in the morning.”
I take the proffered cup. It doesn't sound like anything a person should drink, only calves. Her eyes are so big and her smile so encouraging, I find myself taking a sip anyway. My face scrunches. It's not right.
She laughs. “Try it a few more times. If you don't grow to like it by next week, I'll quit pestering you.” She pulls a chair beside me and pours her own cup of milk. “Now then, what sort of things do you expect of me? Is there a particular way you like things done?”
I set my cup down. “No. I don't think so.”
“There's got to be something.”
“What type of things are you expected to do?”
She studies me. “Is this a test or don't you really know?”
I shift in my seat. “We had servants at the house, one for mother, but mostly they did things for Father. My sisters and I helped with chores and taking care of each other. I can't imagine needing a servant. The only one I've ever had for myself is Phyllis, whose job you are replacing.”
“It's hard for me to understand that. Families in Envado aren't big like yours. Usually they have one child, maybe two.”
“The only big families are those who produce a lot of boys. Once they have a girl though, they stop. And families like mine who can't produce a boy.”
“I see.” Her brows draw together. “Sisters would have been nice, I think. But as for being your servant, I can help with dressing and cleaning. Drawing baths, doing your hair and face paint, bringing you treats, delivering notes. I'll help with the ball of course.”
“It sounds like too much. I'm fine with doing things myself. Except for planning the ball. That I could use help with.”
She finishes her milk and sets down the cup. “I'll help with that, but Zade said I was going to get paid extra for it, so I'll need some other duties. Let's start with this one.” After grabbing my brush, she stands behind me. Part of me wants to be grateful for her help, but the other part is resentful that she's taking it from me. “Your hair is so long. It must be hard to take care of.”
I shrug. “We aren't allowed to cut our hair, only trim it. With so many sisters, we take care of each other's hair. But being here, I've been doing it on my own. Until Phyllis came that is. Sometimes Cynthia and I still assist one another.”
“Well, I'm a bit rusty at doing hair, but I'll soon remember and can help make up for your other sisters not being here.”
The brush moves over my hair as if one of my sisters was using it. Once she's done, she turns down the covers.
“If you need anything, feel free to ring for me.”
“I will.” Except I won't. It seems odd to have someone at my beck and call.
She gives a half smile, as if she knows what I'm thinking. “Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Once she's left the room, I climb into bed. Yes. The strangest woman I've ever met. I blow out the candle and pull the blankets over me. Strange. I think I like her.
***
A noise startles me awake. Moonlight shines through my window. What woke me? I stretch out on my back. Usually it's one of my younger sisters that wakes me, scared or in need of a drink. That chore usually goes to Cynthia or Bethany, but sometimes it falls to me. Won't happen here though. Unless Cynthia comes, which she hasn't in the two and a half months we've been here.
The door is closed. It's hard to tell in the dark, but I don't see her coming toward the bed. Maybe it was something in my dream that woke me.
I curl up on my side, facing my window seat. I wonder how Cynthia's getting along. Many times I've awakened in the night at Father's, she was up. If I can't get back to sleep, maybe I'll go visit.
My eyes give a heavy blink. My limbs relax. Tomorrow then. I'll see her tomorrow. My eyes close. Then I jolt awake. Did that shadow just move?
Sleep flees from me. My body tenses. The shadow isn't moving anymore, but I can't think of any object in my room that would cast it. It's a lumpy, round shape, sort of like a person crouching. Someone's in my room.
Do I feign sleep or call for help? Who would even be
in here? Has the Envadi come for me? I swallow, trying to force the fear down. The action does no good. If it is him, no one may come for help, but I won't sit by and do nothing.
There's nothing close by I can use to defend myself. The best I can do is ring for help and try for the door. Where to go after that? I don't know if anywhere is safe. I hope someone comes when I ring.
With several deep breaths, I bolt from the bed, yanking on the cord as I pass. The rope burns my hands as it slides through. I dart for the door, not daring to check behind me. It's still too far away when hands grab my waist and I'm knocked to the floor. My head bangs against the wood. Blood fills my mouth. I thrust my head back, slamming into my attacker. He grunts.
Hands scramble across me. I claw at them.
“Wenchit!” A tenor. Not the Chancellor. Who's attacking me?
The pressure lifts off me. I scramble on my hands and knees toward the door. Before I get more than a few feet, I'm flipped over onto my back. Meaty fingers wrap around my wrists and hold them above my head. He smells of damp earth and body odor, sort of like Thomas.
“Get off me!” I buck and kick, trying to get free.
A slap stings my face. “Where's the Envadi?” What? Why do they want him? “Where is he?”
The door opens.
“Help!” I yell and struggle to get my hands free.
A crack. The pressure is gone from me. I flip back to my hands and knees and crawl away.
“Light a lamp!” A female voice. Waverly?
Whack! A green spell zaps toward her. She twists away and it crashes on the wall behind her.
I rush to my night stand and light the lamp.
A man in black has his hands wrapped around Waverly's throat. She reaches up, trying to pry his fingers off her. No luck.
If I do nothing, she's going to suffocate. I jump onto his back, hitting him with everything I've got. Immediately, he releases her and casts a maroon spell at me. I drop to the ground before it hits.
A teal and pink spell hurtles toward the attacker. Where'd that come from? Does the attacker have help? I look around for more intruders.