The Prince's Maid.

Chapter3

Chapter3

I awoke the next morning, suddenly confused. Last night's wonderings came back to me and again, questioned how I'd managed to get into my own bed. I frowned and after a while, I gave up. It may have been one of the butlers, but as far as I was aware, they were forbidden to come into the women's dormitory.

Sitting up slowly, I pushed all thoughts to the back of my mind and glanced at the clock sitting over the fireplace on the opposite side of the room.

Oh my goodness! I was an hour late!

I jumped out of bed and hurried to get myself ready. Groping at my clothes that were neatly folded over the end of my bed, I tried to pull my fingers through my hair at the same time. It didn't work and I ended up poking my self in the eye and my top the wrong way round. It took me longer than usual to get ready today because of trying (and failing) to rush.

Finally ready, I scurried to reach the Lord and Lady's room. I thought about taking a few seconds to calm myself but then it would look like I was purposely slacking on my work. I didn't want them to think that.

Knocking on the door, my breath started to slow, which I was a little grateful for; it was starting to hurt my chest.

I waited a minute or so, but there was no answer. My breathing was almost normal now and the pain was starting to ease. I knocked again and still, there was no answer.

Just to make sure everything was okay, I opened the door just a crack and peeked inside. Their beds were empty. Of course; if I hadn't been doing my job, someone else would have. That really did make me look like I wasn't doing my job properly, which really, I wasn't.

Quickly and quietly, I shut the door again just before I got caught; if I, a poor maid, got caught poking her head into the (very rich) Lord and Lady's bedroom, surely I would get thrown out onto the streets. They would most likely think that I was intruding the room to steal some valubles.

Just as I turned around to walk away, I heard my name being called, "Andrea!" It was the Lady. It sounded like it was coming from a room upstairs, so I hurried to get there. I had to hold my dress up slightly as to not trip while half-running up the stairs.

Reaching the Lady, my breath had sped up just a fraction again, and I realised it definitely looked rude, so I tried to slow it again.

"Yes, Ma'am?" I bowed my head and folded my hands behind my back.

"Good, you're awake. I need to talk to you. Come," the expression the Lady wore was one that any man would surely cower under, but I stayed strong, meeting her gaze without fear showing on my features.

I nodded politely and waited for the Lady to start walking. Not knowing where we were headed, it came as a surprise for me when I started walking through a big room of which only the Lord and Lady were allowed.

We went through several doors and along long corridors until we finally reached the Lady's destination.

It was beautiful in here. This must be The Lady's Room. People had spoken about it many times before I had become a maid, but their guess was certainly not good enough. They said it was beautiful and had all any woman could want in there. Which was true, but no words could truly explain the beauty, grace and elegance that was bestowed here, no matter how many original paintings hung on the wall; no matter how many expensive vases sat, bursting with exotic flowers, on each of the four windows, the window sills quite wide. There was a fifth window, directly ahead that had one of those window-seats.

The room was circular but big enough for those five windows. Against the flat wall of the room that connected with the rest of the house, was a four poster bed, the bedding made from silk; the carpet upon which I walked was cream and soft enough for me to feel, despite wearing shoes. The walls were painted a very light blue, and it gave the room some colour, a white oval rug sat in the middle of the room with pink swirls all over it. There were two bookshelves, a dressing table that was big enough for two people sitting next to each other (with space left over) and a writing desk and chair. The room was being light by candles that were placed in holders on the walls. I counted, and there were seven of them; eight if you counted the one not attached to the wall that was placed on the desk for when she was writing. Not far from the bed was a coal fire and some high-backed chairs; they looked so beautiful, so expensive, that I hoped it was not these chairs we were to sit on. I didn't want to ruin them.