Lyric The Fair

The Warmth of Fire

Lyric stood, looking out the window and watching what was left of the villagers that were grieving, walking slowly to their homes, wiping tears as they went. It had been a hard afternoon of grave digging for all. Having wanted to help, they had set Lyric off to dig the graves and fasten little markers from sticks and wood. When she had finished, she had offered to help them stack the bodies of the brutes that had attacked but, the men would not hear of it. They said she had done more than enough and ought to come and see to the Duke.

She knew it would take more than a couple of glasses of wine and a few rose water baths to get the images out of her head but, it was a nice start. It had been a while since she had enjoyed a freshly drawn and heated bath. She was used to sharing the other servant's dirty and chilled water. The warm water had done wonders for her aching shoulders and arms. It had pulled the tenderness right from them, allowing Lyric to relax in the water. Well, as relaxed as she could be.

It was very odd to have servants helping her and delivering her clothing and refreshments. Two women had even insisted on bathing her, their hands scrubbing forcefully but somehow still in a tender manner, to free her skin from dirt and dried blood. One brushed her hair, one hundred strokes, leaving it laying flat and softly about her shoulders. An offer of massage was given but, she had to decline. Lyric had felt enough embarrassment having these two women not only see her naked but then scrubbing even her most intimate parts. It was an altogether overwhelming sensation though, not wholly unpleasant. That in and of itself had brought a burning fire to Lyric's cheeks. She had often heard of these sorts of baths for high-ranking women but had never once considered that she would experience one.

Lyric bent slightly in an attempt to stretch the material of her breeches. Her loose top was fine with her, the flowing fabric let quite a bit of air in and out, wafting the rose scent up into her fave when she moved. The tight breeches, however, were a new experience for her. They had been brought up with an entirely new outfit for her, one the Duke said would be suitable for a horse ride. She had been instructed to put the clothes on and forget about her soiled dress. They had been burnt and torn for rags for the kitchens. It seemed as though the Duke was expecting her to accept the job he had hardly offered.

Lyric looked at herself in the looking glass perched atop a fine armoire. Her hair was falling in soft, raven-colored waves about her shoulders and down her back. Her skin looked renewed, the salts in her baths had done something more than just improve her smell. The evening sunlight hit her skin, making it shine like a coin and look as soft as a newborn bird's feather. While she had assumed the top would do nothing for her figure, she found she looked quite feminine in it. The fabric dipped down low between her breasts, leaving them slightly exposed but the loose fabric fell in such a way that it never seemed to fully expose her skin. The fabric bunched and stopped at her waist, held tight by a leather belt fasted to her breeches. The breeches themselves showed the shape of her legs in a way that she had never experienced. It was quite a sight to see your legs for the first time. The breeches tucked themselves into some dark leather boots that clung tightly to her calves.

A knock at her bedroom door shook her from her vanity just in time for her to gather herself properly before the woman entered the room. She was short, locks of fire-red hair falling around her face, bringing attention to the smattering of freckles on her cheeks. The woman kept her head down as she set a silver tray on the table in the center of the room, directly in front of the fireplace. "Sir thought you would prefer a private dinner." The girl spoke as she began to pour some wine from a large jug on the tray. "He has sent up a feast of pork and vegetables, wine to compliment the pork. Fresh fruits and berries, cheese, and some bread." Her hands shook slightly as she stood and faced Lyric. "Is there anything else you need, ma'am?"

"No, thank you, this is perfect." Lyric smiled at the girl and watched the stiffness ease from her as she smiled in return.

"Just leave the scraps here on the tray and I shall fetch it in the morning, miss. The Duke has a horse being groomed and prepared for your travel in the morning. He wishes for you to keep the animal and return once you have informed your employer of his offer, should you accept." Lyric nodded, her eyes falling on the tray of sustenance. "Have a good night, miss."

Before Lyric had a chance to thank the girl, she had gone, closing the door firmly behind her. Lyric strode over to the tray and sat, taking a grape and popping it in her mouth. If she was honest with herself, she could get used to this life, even if she had to wear these uncomfortable breeches every day.

The thought put a smile on her face. She could have a life like this. It certainly depended on the job the Duke wanted to offer her but, if this was the reward, she was in. She stared out the window, her eyes on a single streak of smoke in the distance, thinking about how fortunate she was and what her life could become.