The Vanished Pearls of Orlov

You'll shame all of Orlov if you can't behave better than some tavern slut.

     The day ground by, one interminable hour after another, as the pitiless sun beat down upon Orlov. Iolanthe waited patiently for dusk, coolness, the promise of night-blooming flowers, and an answer to her questions. Her brother Dimitri, even when cornered after lunch, refused to enlighten her about the planned, private conversation.

     She had to wait.

     In the meantime, she, auntie Quintana, and the head housekeeper inspected linens needed for the upcoming week, consulted with the cooks over meals, and planned which one of Orlov Castle's dozens of rooms next needed to be emptied, scrubbed from ceiling to floor, all the furnishings washed, have repairs made, and possibly be repainted. The business of a castle's upkeep never ended, making it a full-time task for the ladies of Orlov and their army of servants.

     Throughout the day, Auntie Quintana refused to say anything either, confining the conversation to the necessities of housekeeping for dozens of people and the legion of servants needed to wait upon them. Iolanthe understood that as Ljubo's wife, Quintana probably knew what was in the wind, but she wouldn't talk. Auntie Quintana had endured years in Orlov and she had learned how to keep her own counsel. She always listened but she rarely revealed a confidence without express permission.

     Auntie Quintana would only say, when pressed, "things will get better, dear girl." She paused in examining a linen sheet spread out for her inspection by one of the maids and turned to stroke Iolanthe's cheek, smiling fondly at her niece. "Your mother would be so proud of you."

     "I miss her so much," Iolanthe said quietly. She flicked her eyes over towards the group of silent maids spreading out another sheet from the east wing's linens room. She knew at least one of the maids warmed Rastislav's bed regularly, although possibly not by choice. The sot was known for his animal appetites. Still, the maid — whichever one she was — could carry tales in an effort to curry favor, especially tales about people remembering those who the sot had harmed. It was always best to be circumspect when not alone and behind closed doors.

     "I know, dear girl. We all do." Quintana held up her hand. "Stop. Bring that sheet closer to the light. Damnation. Terraformer stains?" She looked more closely and gasped "no, it's mice!"

     Everyone groaned, knowing how the workload had just increased. The cupboard holding the sheet must not have been sealed tightly enough and mice had burrowed inside to make soft nests. Every cupboard in the room would have to be checked and resealed, along with every single piece of linen being inspected closely, mended as needed, washed, aired, and refolded. Meanwhile, the rat catcher would come with his traps, poisons, hissing ferrets and yapping terriers, making a huge mess of fur, muddy pawprints, droppings, and bloodied bits of mice strewn everywhere.

     Upset enough to be unwary, Iolanthe said to Quintana "I wish we were allowed to keep cats in the castle."

     The sheet wasn't just stained; it had numerous holes nibbled in it. It would be mended, but it was ruined for use by the family. It would be surprising if every sheet in this particular cupboard of bedlinens wasn't damaged as well.

     "I know." Quintana's eyes flicked towards the listening maid holding the sheet out for inspection. She said, more loudly, "However, our dear daimyo, Rastislav, does not care for cats; unreliable, sneaking, sly creatures that they are."

     "The daimyo is correct in his distaste for cats," Iolanthe murmured. So this maid — a plump, bosomy, newly arrived girl with a self-satisfied smirk — was the bedwarmer and thus could not be trusted. Based on the smirk, she probably didn't object to Rastislav's attentions and was new enough not to know any better. Iolanthe ran the day's conversations over in her head, focusing on what this maid had said as they worked their way through the daily tasks. Hmm. This maid seemed clever enough to use the daimyo to her own advantage, demonstrating that she was clever indeed, as well as a risk-taker.