Fabled (6 page)

I left Madeline to her bath and made my way back to my cell. I had remembered that I was in cell three. They were identifiable by chalk numbers above each door. I put on the bland uniform, and sat in front of the vanity’s mirror. All the women wore their hair in perfectly tight buns, but none of them had curly hair like me. Getting my hair to lay flat would be a small miracle. I brushed the wet strands into somewhat of a bun and secured it with my new comb. I placed the white hat that sort of looked like an old nurse’s cap on my head and secured it with bobby pins that were already attached to it.
Voila.
 

I found the guard creeping down the hall towards the bathing room and remembered what Madeline had said and felt guilty for not staying there to guard her.
 

“Excuse me?” I said in a slightly louder voice than normal.

“Huh?” He turned around as if caught off-guard.

“Can you please tell me if any directions were given for me?”

“Number three?” he questioned.

I nodded.

“Oh, yes. You’re to see Headmistress Rue immediately.”

I tried to stall him by asking how to get back to the kitchen where I would surly find Mistress Rue. He was starting to get frustrated, and that’s when I saw Madeline walking towards us. I felt relieved, and made a note to myself that I needed to learn the ropes around here quicker if I’m to survive.

She smiled as she approached, and shockingly, the guard smiled back at her.
Creepy
. She whispered as she walked by me, “We’re nearly roommates.” I watched as she made her way in the cell marked four.

I went down the hall to the kitchen. It was another foggy morning. The mist blanketed the forest outside. When I got to the kitchen, the maids were scrambling to finish breakfast. Mistress Rue saw me before I hardly got into the room.

“You.” She pointed. “Find a seat. You’ll be fed and briefed.”
 

I proceeded to sit in the same place I sat for supper the night before and waited. She practically threw my breakfast in front of me — something that looked to be slop — and started barking orders.

“You’re to go to the girls immediately. They should be in their room waiting for you. You need to make sure they’re bathed, dressed, and do their piano lessons before lunch. Here is a list of their daily schedules. It’s your job to make sure they are where they need to be when they need to be. No excuses. The Mistress is very peculiar about them, and she will hold you to the strictest standards. Is that understood?” She passed me a piece of paper with a list of times and activities on it.
 

“Yes.” I felt exhausted already. Last night’s emotional surrender had all but crippled me this morning.
 

I slowly crept upstairs where I had been told their rooms were, but not without a little stalking in the foyer where the stairs were. Unfortunately, all exists seemed to be guarded by burly men.
 

I first approached Dreca’s room and knocked lightly.
 

“Miss?” I called out, imitating the way I had heard the other servants address the royals.

She flung the door open.

“You’re late!” she griped.

“My apologies.” I looked towards the ground.

“Get in here.”

As soon as I walked in the door, Ana came in from the bathroom door that joined their two rooms.

“I need my bath!” she croaked.
 

I rushed to ready the water. It took me nearly a half an hour, in real world standards, because of loading the boiling water up the stairs took several trips. Dreca asked for privacy while bathing, but Ana wanted help scrubbing her back and washing her hair. I had never lived through something so humiliating as washing a stranger.
Now I know that nursing can be crossed off the list of college possibilities.
 

When they were finally washed, I helped them get dressed. Dreca put on a yellow dress, complete with hoop skirt, which I was familiar with from back home where people liked to pretend one time a year that the Old South was alive and well. When I tied her corset, I went easy because she didn’t make me wash her. Ana didn’t have nearly as much luck. I understood Lil’s amusement at over tightening my costume’s corset the other day. It felt good
. I wonder what she’s doing right now.
 

“Too tight!” Ana screamed.
 

I loosened it reluctantly.

By the time they were dressed, which was an amazing feat, they were late for their piano lessons. It seemed odd to me that in a world unbound by time they would still have schedules to follow.
Why?
I guess they liked the structure that time allowed them. I rushed the girls downstairs. Their reluctance and lack of sympathy for what would happen to me if they were late was infuriating.
 

Luckily, their tardiness to piano lessons must have been expected by their instructor, so he didn’t rat me out. Their lessons throughout the day offered me a short break from being their slave.
 

Lunch was served as soon as the dull sun hung directly over the castle. They ate in the dining room with their parents, and I ate the sandwich provided to me in the kitchen. Next, they were sent to archery class, then gardening, and then reading. Before supper every night, they changed their attire to something more formal.
What a waste
, I thought. While I helped them dress, Ana noticed the comb in my hair.
 

“Oh, isn’t that pretty?” she commented.

“Thanks,” I said, though suspicious at her obviously fake kindness.

“I think I shall like to borrow it.”

I didn’t know what to say. I realized it was silly but that comb was all that set me apart from the other slaves in the house. It was my only possession in Mezzanine, besides my costume.
 

“It wouldn’t look very nice with your dress, Ana. Look the stones; they don’t match,” I feebly attempted to convince her.

“I like it. No matter if it doesn’t agree with my dress. Give it to me.” She snatched it out of my hair. My curls fell. She stood in front of the mirror and twisted the strands and placed my beloved comb in her golden waves. Something in me winced. I wanted to jump her. Yank every strand of yellow hair out of her head, yet I remained blank and bound by the position I now held.

“You have lovely hair,” Dreca commented while running her fingers through it. I searched for some ulterior motive behind her kind words as well but found none.
 

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. They both started for the door and headed to supper.
 

I looked into Ana’s bright white vanity mirror. The dark glow that radiated from my black smock mimicked my emotions. I didn’t cry, though I wanted to, at the thought of having to do this day after day. There were no tears left. I felt desperate, alone, and dreadfully miserable. I finally made my way back to the kitchen to have my supper. We ate leftovers from the night before. Madeline sat next to me, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful to see her face again. She was the only person that I found to be friendly here, and I desperately needed a friend.

“How was your day?” she whispered to me as we ate.

“Hell. How about yours?” I asked.

“Same. Another day in the Mezz. Listen, I assume that you met Humbert last night, right?” she asked.
 

I nodded.
 

“He’s a swell fellow. He can take messages from one side of the kingdom to the next in a matter of minutes. Incredible, he is.”

I wish I had someone to write to. Chester, maybe?
I desperately wanted to know why he thought it would be okay to leave me with two kidnapping brats.
 

“Would it be alright if I asked him to deliver a message for me?” I lowered my voice until it was barely audible.

“Yes. But don’t tell me about it. We’re denied contact with outsiders here. So keep it quiet,” she said in the same low voice. I agreed.
 

After getting the girls up to bed and dressed, I went to close Dreca’s door. That’s when Mrs. Tresels walked past me. She stopped momentarily at seeing me, gave me a cold stare, and continued on her way.

I returned downstairs to clean the kitchen and was finally released late in the night. I trailed down the narrow hall of windows feeling despair again. The two moons shone bright and the scenery outside reminded me of a fairy tale. Everything about this place felt surreal, like it couldn’t possibly be my new reality.
The real world doesn’t live outside of time with immortal people and magic. Does it?

When I approached my cell, I saw the guard trying to peek into Madeline’s room.
 

I coughed, and he scurried back to his post.

I washed my hands and face, put on my nightgown, and curled into bed. That’s when I saw Humbert appear. He had another piece of paper, only this time it was blank.
Thanks, Madeline
. I remembered seeing a pencil in the vanity yesterday as I searched through it. I retrieved it and wrote a note to Chester.
 

Chester,

I have no idea why someone would allow another person to get kidnapped. I really needed a friend here and hoped you were one. Now I’m a slave at the Tresels’ manor, and it’s all because of you. All I want to know is why?

Rowena

I rolled up the note, gave it to Humbert, and watched as his wings took off into the night. I curled up in my bed and prayed for the nightmare to be over. But it was only the beginning.

Chapter 6

Weeks passed with nothing new to the days. I kept up with the time by carving a mark on the side of the chifforobe. I never heard back from Chester. The only highlight was passing notes back and forth to Madeline. I found out that she had been abducted from her family in Cassel, an area on the outer edge of the kingdom. She was the oldest of ten children. A man on a horse swooped her up one day when she picked fruits from their garden. She kept in contact with her family, though, via Humbert. I couldn’t understand why they never tried to help her escape, but she explained that escaping was not an option. Where would she escape to? The same place they found her? Pointless. Not to mention the danger her family would be placing themselves in.
 

I also asked her occasional questions about Mezzanine. I didn’t understand how people who never aged had children. She said that though children are no longer born in the kingdom, at one time Mezzanine lived under Time. Then people lived just like in my world, but when the portals closed the chasm, they were no longer open to Time. Now children stay children and adults stay the same age.
 

By my calculations that would have made her over 600 years old. I tried not to think about that. The creep factor was too great.

I also noticed that she had some type of attracting quality. I caught Mr. Tresels eyeing her on more than one occasion, and a few of the garden men did too. She was pretty, I thought, but nothing extraordinary. The brats were even better looking. It baffled me, but I chose not to ask her about it.

She said that Mr. and Mrs. Tresels are royals, but low ranking ones. Their magic was weak, though still effective. They employed unreliable soldiers, like Hans and Greta. She said the twins are known for torturing some subjects before turning them over. They’ve even reportedly “lost” subjects. Rumors have it that they eat them in their famous muffins. I asked her how that was possible if there is no death.
 

“I think it’s just a myth,” she said.

I couldn’t help but grip my stomach and imagine the irresistible banana nut I’d ate while in their possession. And that conversation ended. Sometimes it’s best not to ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.
 

We found time to chat during meals, if we were quiet enough. Mistress Rue kept the kitchen on whisper orders, as to not get complaints from our royal neighbors.

 
I followed orders the best I could. The sisters kept me busy from sun up to sun down, and I hated them for it. Every day was the same thing, with the occasional switch up of piano lessons for Latin lessons and so on. I wondered if they knew that Latin was a dead language
.

 
I kept up my work, but by month two, I was beyond homesick. I suffered from spontaneous bouts of crying. Even Mistress Rue was moved to show some compassion. She let me off an entire half day once on one of my more severe outbreaks, which would have been Christmas day. I missed everything about home. I thought about it constantly. I would feel guilty if I caught myself allowing a few moments to go by without picturing their faces in my mind, but details faded with every passing day. I could no longer hear Lil’s weird laugh. I could just barely trace Dashielle’s palm creases in my mind like I had millions of times. Even the shade of L'Oréal Mom dyed her hair, now had left my memory. My mind’s grip on the people I loved was slipping. I knew I was losing them, and losing them meant losing me.

I also wondered what they must be thinking. I’d been gone a long time now, and I couldn’t imagine what they must be going through. I could just see my stocking hanging lonely and unfilled on the ceremonious mantle.
Do they miss me as much as I miss them?

Madeline and I set off towards the kitchen on our daily journey. We could smell breakfast the moment we hit the windowed hall.
 

“Look!” Madeline exclaimed. She pointed out the glass. I had long since stopped peering out. It was too painful and too difficult a reminder of my lost freedom. But I conceded since she never remarked about what was going on outside.

“Wow…” I was nearly speechless. White had blanketed, from what we could see, the entire kingdom. “I knew it was cold last night, but I hadn’t realized it was that cool.”

“Isn’t it… amazing.” Her voice trailed. We stood still for a moment and relished in what was the only thing that had really changed since I had been here.
 

“It’s beautiful.”

“We should sneak out and play for a bit,” she whispered, her eyes still fixed on the white. I stared at her, astonished. Madeline was a rule follower, even more so than I, and I knew she must have been joking.