The Servant Girl and The Sea Prince

Chapter One: MELINDA

The lukewarm sunlight of dawn in early March streamed into the single tiny window in Melinda Sanderson's drafty garret room. The 16-year-old cleaning maid sat up on her narrow, lumpy mattress, rubbed her pretty green eyes, and let out an unladylike yawn. "Time to start another grueling day..." she wearily sighed under her breath.

Melinda continued to sigh as she got dressed. It made absolutely no sense to her that even in the subtropical kingdom of Kallia, where the sun shone almost every day, a woman had to wear so much clothing in order to be considered "respectable" by polite society. Over a well-worn, cream-colored linen shift, she put on a pair of lightly boned, front-lacing, strapless stays, and secured her itchy wool stockings with garters. She donned one of the only two gowns she owned, a plain brown dress that she swore was the exact same color as human waste, although it did have fashionable three-quarter-length sleeves. She covered her dress with an off-white linen apron, and tucked her dirty, brunette braid under a simple mob cap.

Before leaving the garret, Melinda glanced wistfully out her window. The stately manor home of the Count and Countess of Huntington, where she worked, was located right by the Western Ocean. As miserable as her life was overall, she acknowledged that she was indeed lucky to live so close to her beloved sea. Melinda, who always felt like a true "fish out of water", loved everything about the ocean: its great beauty, the many mysterious creatures that called it home, its salty scent, and the freedom it seemed to promise her. Many nights, she would discretely go out to swim in the ocean under the stars. She never had a single formal swimming lesson in her entire life, yet somehow moving her slender body in the water came as naturally to her as walking. She checked the soles of her scruffy leather shoes for sand before placing them on her larger-than-average feet.

She began descending the seemingly endless flights of stairs from the garret to the ground floor of Huntington Manor. Melinda hated stairs perhaps even more than she disliked emptying chamber pots or scrubbing floors. A shiver ran down her spine as her pale hand brushed against the cold, damp stone wall. It felt uncomfortably similar to the rough, uneven floor of the basement of the Southern Kallia Asylum for Orphaned Children, a horrible place she'd been sent as punishment far more times as a child than she cared to remember. She shook her head, forcing the memory away, and endeavored to focus on the steady rhythm of her steps.

Melinda's parents had been Adam and Christine Sanderson. Adam was the youngest son of a dirt-poor fisherman. When his sweetheart, Christine, unexpectedly became with child, they were forced to quickly get married. Tragically, Christine passed away at the age of seventeen due to complications from childbirth, and Adam died in a fatal boating accident less than a year later. At first, her maternal grandparents took her in, but since they could barely afford to feed themselves, they dropped Melinda off at the Southern Kallia Asylum for Orphaned Children when she was but three years old, naively hoping that would lead to a better life for their granddaughter.

The housemaid's first task every morning was cleaning ashes from fireplaces and hearths throughout the two-story, 35-room mansion. Melinda knelt before the cold fireplace in the grand hall. She carefully scooped the remnants of the previous day's fire into a metal bucket, her movements practiced from performing the same chores day after day for almost two years.

"Tsk...Miss Melinda Sanderson...". Ms. McGoldrick, the stern, middle-aged head housekeeper eyed the young girl with her usual disapproval. Like most people in Kallia, Ms. McGoldrick, who came from a comparatively middle-class background, looked down on Melinda for being an orphan.

"Is there a particular reason you haven't started the fire yet, young lady...?" Ms. McGoldrick questioned, her pointy nose in the air. The phony patrician accent the housekeeper put on made Melinda's fair skin crawl. "The Count and Countess will be wanting their breakfast soon, and a cold house does little to whet one's appetite...".

"I'm sorry...Ms. McGoldrick..." stammered Melinda. "I was...I was...just finishing up cleaning out the ashes...". The most important lesson she had learned from her unhappy childhood at the Southern Kallia Asylum for Orphaned Children was to only speak to her social betters when spoken too, and when doing so, to be as polite to them as humanly possible, no matter what her personal opinion of them was.

"Cleaning ashes...?" Ms. McGoldrick sniffed, her voice laced with disdain. "My dear girl...a proper fire requires more than just the removal of yesterday's remnants. A good base of kindling is most essential for a clean and efficient burn..."

"Yes...yes, ma'am..." said Melinda simply.

Once she had finished building a fire, Melinda began the unpleasant but necessary job of collecting chamber pots from every bedroom. Pinching her nose and holding her breath, she disposed of their foul-smelling contents into a designated alleyway behind the Manor. When she scurried back inside, the lingering stench clung to her clothing and hair. She longed for a fresh sea breeze to replace the pungent odor.

Following chamber pot duty, she swept the main floorboards in hallways and common areas. Then she dusted furniture, portraits on the wall, and knick knacks on the mantlepiece. The wooden carving of a dolphin that was set on the mantle, alongside various other decorations, was probably Melinda's favorite object in the whole Manor. She lovingly traced the little marine mammal's hand-carved fins with her damp cloth.

Melinda tiptoed into Huntington Manor's impressive library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stuffed with leather-bound volumes filled the spacious room. The young cleaning maid adored books nearly as much as she loved the ocean. Unlike many other peasants, Melinda knew how to read and write, as she had received a rudimentary education at the Asylum. Books, especially fairy tale stories about mermaids and sea monsters, had been her refuge, ever since she was a little girl.

As Melinda conscientiously dusted a set of encyclopedias, a deep cough startled her. Lord David, the Count and Countess's soon-to-be 18-year-old son, slouched in an armchair by the crackling fireplace. While the young man was undeniably attractive, with short dark hair and an athletic physique, his reputation as an infamous playboy made her feel quite uneasy whenever she was around him.

"Milord David..." Melinda spluttered, dropping into a brief curtsy. "I...I didn't...realize you were there. My sincere apologies for startling you, Milord..."

Lord David chuckled, which did little to ease Melinda's apprehension. "No need to apologize, Miss Melinda...". He then stared piercingly at her. "Most servants announce themselves before entering a room, especially a library filled with such enticing secrets...". He gestured towards the many bookshelves with a playful glint in his blue eyes.

"I...I...wouldn't dream of looking at anything I shouldn't, Milord..." Melinda lied. The truth was she had occasionally peeked at some of the books in the library, when she was sure no one was watching. She knew that she really shouldn't, but as much as she tried to be an ideal, submissive servant, her insatiable thirst for knowledge got the best of her at times. She once discovered a wonderful marine biology textbook there, which described the biology and anatomy of all sorts of sea creatures in detail. She had decided that if she were a mermaid, she'd want to be part parrotfish, as they sounded so beautiful and peaceful to her, with their colorful scales and mostly herbivorous diet.