Fall of Autumn, Week 4, Day 6

  “A lady’s maid!” Melinda exclaimed, her voice frantic.

  “I know,” Gristle bemoaned. “I was hoping to pick one before she asked for it.”

  The two heads of the household staff looked downcast, barely meeting the other’s eyes.

  “I was getting everything ready, and I’d finally convinced Sylvie to take up the position permanently,” Melinda sighed.

  Gristle snorted, “It’s probably for the best that she’ll only be a temporary lady’s maid. You know Sylvie’s temperament.”

  Melinda waved off the concern.

  “All it takes to soften that heart of stone is a smile. She’s not as harsh as she seems. Have you seen her with Erie? They’re practically attached at the hip outside of working hours.”

  “Yes, well, remember when that girl poured juice all over her? She wasn’t exactly graceful in the way she destroyed her quarters afterward.” Gristle delicately reminded Melinda.

  She harrumphed, “Yes, well, so she has some anger issues. She’s still particularly skilled at the job. It’s not like she threw juice back at Lady Sophia.”

  Gristle looked incredulously at the head maid but let it drop.

  There was no way to fight her decision —she had a point. When everything goes well, Sylvie is extremely skilled at being a lady’s maid. She’d never made a mistake, never served the wrong tea, never spilled a drop, never let anything but her usual blank expression show. Not even when Lady Sophia had poured that juice over her head.

  Gristle wasn’t so sure he would have handled it with as much grace.

  “All right, should I grab or–?” Gristle waved his hand toward Melinda, and the woman released a long-suffering sigh.

  “I will, of course. You’d likely say it in such a way that Sylvie jumps off a turret.” Melinda sniped at him.

  To his credit, Gristle looked abashed, “I would not. She’s just… she requires a delicate touch. And you’re the best one at handling her.”

  Melinda shot Gristle another look.

  “Well, we’ll see about that.”

  “Are you telling me I wouldn’t have to be a lady’s maid for Lady Nora?” The sparkle in Sylvie’s eyes told Melinda everything she needed to know—even if Sylvie’s face remained neutral.

  “Well, you would but you’d also be teaching Juniper while you did it.”

  She was defeated, she knew there was no getting Sylvie to stay on as a head lady’s maid now. Not when she had an out.

  “But, what you’re saying, ma’am, is that once I taught Juniper, I would no longer be a lady’s maid.”

  Again, that sparkle. Melinda ran her hand over her face.

  “I mean, yes.”

  Sylvie’s response was immediate, as if she waited a breath she’d be forced to be a lady’s maid for all her days. It was another knot in Melinda’s stomach.

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  “I’ll do it.”

  Sylvie even had a small smile on her face.

  “I know,” Melinda said, defeated. “Have you met Juniper before? Do you need an introduction?”

  Sylvie shook her head, her silver ponytail whipping around, “I know where to find her, and I know her name. I can do it.”

  “Okay,” Melinda said doubtfully, biting the inside of her cheek. “But be gentle with her. She’s just a child.”

  Sylvie huffed, “I’m not some monster. Juniper will learn how to be a proper lady’s maid —and I won’t be unduly harsh in the process.”

  “I’m here for Juniper,” Sylvie said coolly, ignoring the eyes of the kitchen staff as she leaned against the doorframe. “Send her out. She’s mine now.”

  “I think not, little maid,” the chef said, his scowl growing more pronounced by the moment. “Unless Melinda comes in here and takes her, she’ll keep doing her job. She’s my hireling.”

  “Actually,” Sylvie said, a disinterested look on her face, “She’s not anybody’s hireling. Not anymore. She’s a lady’s maid.”

  At that moment, a blonde girl came in through the back of the kitchen, a bag of potatoes in her arms. It was painfully clear that this was the girl Sylvie was looking for.

  “Juniper, drop the potatoes, we’re starting your training.” Sylvie snapped her fingers and left.

  Juniper blinked, looking from the angry chef to the stunned looks on the other kitchen staff, then a wide grin spread across her face and she set the bag down next to her.

  “Lady Nora wasn’t joking.” She said to herself, then to the chef, “Sorry, chef, but I’m following! I’m a full member of staff now. I’ll see you around!”

  Pulling her apron off, she handed it to the nearest member of the kitchen staff. It was a woman who had yelled at her more often than not. Shocked, she simply took the apron.

  And she was bounding off after the maid who had come to fetch her. Looking for the silver ponytail, she only had to round the corner, where the woman was leaning against the wall —a rag in her hand and polishing the hand of a statue.

  That… was odd.

  As Juniper approached, the woman stopped what she was doing and looked at the girl with a blank expression.

  “I’m going to be in charge of you until you’re a respectable lady’s maid.” The woman lightly scrunched her nose, and her eyes flicked back to the statue, “I’m Sylvia. But you can call me Sylvie.”

  “Yes, Miss Sylvie!” Juniper nodded quickly.

  “No, just Sylvie, I’m not old enough to be a ‘miss’.”

  “Oh, okay,” Juniper shrugged, “So, what’s first?”

  Sylvie had a smile on her face, and Juniper didn’t know her well enough, but by the time night rolled around, she could recognize it for what it was. A cruel thing. Laughing at Juniper for her excitement.

  Juniper was sure that was it, because why else would Sylvie sit her down and make her learn and re-learn how to dust for three hours?

  It’s dusting! You wipe it down with a damp rag! Why have I had to go through this eight thousand times? Juniper raged internally. What does this even have to do with being a lady’s maid?

  “A lady’s maid is still a maid,” Sylvie said, her voice bored as she flipped through a book. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a mind reader. You’ll need to learn to school your expressions.“

  “You didn’t even look at me!”

  “I could hear your expression without looking.” Sylvie deadpanned.

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” Juniper grumbled.

  “Again.”

  Juniper had just finished sweeping, but she deflated at the command from Sylvie.

  “You didn’t even look at it.” She whined.

  “I don’t need to, I didn’t hear you moving the furniture.” Sylvie was laying back, her eyes closed. “Do it again. But do it right this time.”

  Juniper took a breath, then another, and then she felt tears well up in her eyes.

  “This isn’t fair,” she cried, throwing the broom down.

  Sylvie opened her eyes, looking over Juniper for half a moment before leaning her head back again.

  “Get used to it.”

  Melinda found herself back in Gristle’s office, worrying over the fate of the new maid.

  “Calm down, Melinda, Sylvie wouldn’t ruin a child. Even she has more compassion than that.”

  Gristle’s voice was firm, confident, but inside, a single thought resounded.

  That poor girl.

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