The Second Prince Loves a Lowly Servant

Chapter 4: Cacoethes

"Coin?"

"Yes."

"'Coin?'"

Lucrecia looked at Lucy funny, wondering if she was experiencing some form of mental deterioration. How hard is "I want money before I can aide you" to understand?

"Yes, 'coin!' Settle me with coin before abetting me!"

But Lucy did not have any more of it to sweeten the pot. Not so long ago, she had just pledged 30 mercs—a sum one would have to work months on end to earn, needless to say, was 30 percent of Mrs. Durell's paycheck and 60 percent of her's—to a very rapacious individual! Plus, wasn't this supposed to be a friend of Theresa's? Why would she be keeping such noxious company? That poor girl was in dire need of guidance pertaining to the judgment of character with whom one associated with, Lucy thought. 

If this was a friend, David would probably be nothing short of malevolent.

"Do not help, then!" She turned around to resume her charge. "I will handle this by myself." Eminently improbable, yes. But "hope" is defined by believing some sort of good would arise from a precarious situation... sort of halt the world on its axis and force a miracle to occur if publically declared.

In earnest, she had not said it to beseech a heart in the selfish person standing beside her; her blood was too poisonous to nurture the intimate organ.

"You cannot expect me to believe you."

"What a trifling comment," Lucy muttered purposefully, loud enough for the pesky acquaintance to hear and hopefully exit the room, too... with any luck, disappear from the face of this planet. "Am I tieing you down? Take your own advice and leave already."

Vexed, the young girl propelled the guest's property from Lucy's choosings with an overindulgent intensity. "I will alert madam Durell of what you're doing sans authority which is heavily against household decretals!" 

Then she stood there. Nose turned up and arms crossed—the young chambermaid's. Mimicking a legitimate display of superiority, a smug tilt on her lips strenuously reinforced the perverted appeal for attention. And she sure as hell would get it, of course. 

"You're sure as hell showing more unwanted help than wanted help, you greedy, evil, insolent-" Clutching a firm grip on the chambermaid's brown locks, Lucy pulled, twisted, lurched, and clawed until the surly girl wept bitter tears from a pair of hazel-brown eyes.

"It isn't fair!" Lucy grumbled, taking notice of herself.

The girl was mean, bumptious, and haughty, yet she spawned into this world with a slightly above-average characteristic undeservedly! Moreover, the fact she wasn't even above in position-or age, for that matter-was the most audacious part of it all. "Beautiful, enchanting, golden-eyed," she digressed, "yet terribly disrespectful leprechaun!"

Finally set free at Lucy's volition, the girl's face stained red, over wrath with each embarrassing plea of surrender while remembering her previous display of pomposity. In the same manner, she scootched into a corner and sat, cradling her hair whilst watching her senior resume stowing gowns, shoes, and jewelry; fervent and eerily nonchalant after the ruthless thrashing. 

"Are there any other suitcases? How many did she come with? And have you unpacked plenty?"

The girl gave no answer.

Her victimized face morphed into impish undertones, wearing an expression that plotted revenge of the highest order.

"Surely, all pieces of jewelry haven't been unpacked. How many pairs of shoes are accounted for, do you know?"