Rachel
The next time Rachel's eyes opened, the light of day was leaking into the room and the house was entirely quiet. She wondered how much longer she'd managed to sleep. Her head still felt cloudy but she knew she didn't want to remain in bed. Slipping out from beneath the covers Rachel forced herself to rise and pulled back the curtains, welcoming the sun.
The house was cozy in spite of the slight chill she could feel near the windows. Even dressed in just her nightgown Rachel was not uncomfortable. Still, she slipped on the robe Alice had laid out for her, savoring the soft fabric on her skin. It seemed that Alice had left made her a small pair of wool socks to cover her feet. She put those on as well. It felt nice to be so warm after here time with Gifre and his men. It felt nice to feel so safe. And yet...she still was not certain how safe she really was. It was true that, in spite of her cold demeanor, Alice had not yet been unkind, nor had Magnus, but that didn't change her circumstances.
Rachel moved around Alice's room in a bit of a trance, still trying to rouse her mind fully from slumber. It felt strange to be in the space without the old woman. Somehow, in spite of her absence, Rachel almost imagined Alice still had eyes in the house. She couldn't help but be curious though and it was hard to resist the urge to look around while she had her chance.
She started by more closely exploring Alice's room, peaking in her draws, trying to read the titles of the books on her shelf and make sense of the papers piled on her desk, filled with ledgers and numbers she did not understand. Everything was immaculate and tidy, making Rachel certain that Alice would notice should even one small object be out of place when she returned She didn't dare touch anything.
Moving into the living space Rachel saw the fire in the hearth still burning. She added a few fresh logs from the pile beside it. As Alice had told her, there was a pot of porridge sitting on the stove. She'd even laid out a bowl, spoon, and cup for Rachel to use. A waiting mug was filled with tea leaves and the teapot on the stove was filled with water. It seemed she really had gone to every effort to make certain Rachel was provided for in her absence. But the stove was strange, with odd nobs on it, entirely unlike the wood stove Mama had used.
Rachel opened the door to the icebox and was surprised when a light turned on within it, a gust of cold hitting her in the face. She'd heard of such things in Mama's old story books of earth that was. How humans used to have electricity to heat and cool their homes and food. But such luxuries in a slave's house seemed out of place. She knew that the sibla did not want humans having much of any technology. Again she wondered why Magnus might give Alice so much status. What had she done to gain his trust? What would she do to keep it?
In the end, Rachel found the milk and poured herself a glass, taking only an apple to eat along with it. She felt guilt wasting the food Alice had made, but she wasn't daring enough to try the stove. The milk was fresh and creamy. Cold from the electric icebox. Putting her glass on the counter, Rachel wondered the rest of the house while nibbling at her apple.
The living space was just as tidy and clean as the bedroom had been, without an ounce of dust or clutter. At least the walls in the sitting area were not entirely bare. A few paintings and weavings adorned the otherwise white walls, making the space a bit more inviting. There was even a brightly painted vase on a table to decorate the space between the two arm chairs set by the fire. Rachel took a closer look at one of the beautiful weavings hanging on the wall and was impressed with the intricacy of the design. She wondered if Alice had made it herself. But the what about the vase? It looked like an expensive gift.
Still fearing to touch anything, Rachel took her glass of milk and went to sit by the fire. She was surprised to see a book lying on the floor. She couldn't imagine that Alice would ever leave something so out of place. She picked up the book and marveled at the beautiful cover, the letters etched in gold. "Grim's Tales" it read.
Opening the first page Rachel was proud to find that she could read the words easily, the clear block text was not complicated and the pages were painted with beautiful pictures of princes and princesses, and talking animals. Rachel had never held something so lovely. The few books Mama had owned were dirty and worn, without many pictures.
Enthralled by the novelty of such a luxury, Rachel carefully turned the pages, marveling at the glossy pages before going back to the beginning of the book and trying to read the stories. Lost in the pages she had no idea how much time had passed before she was started by a knock on the door.
Rachel quickly put the book down, her heart pounding. Who would possibly knock? Alice would simply walk in. And what if she got in trouble for reading Alice's book? For doing something wrong?
The knock came again.
Rachel put the book back on the ground, hoping it would look like she'd never touched it.
"Rachel? Are you all right?"
The voice was not Alice's but it was familiar.
"I'm going to come in, Rachel," the voice said. "I hope that's ok."
Rachel stood in the center of the room, frozen as the door swung open to reveal Kathryn standing in the doorway, holding a pot cradled in her arm and a basket in her other hand. She set the basket down and used her free hand to close the door again. Rachel did not move, eyeing her uncertainly. Kathryn didn't seem to notice, giving Rachel a cheerful smile.
"I'm glad to see you are up and about," she said, going to the kitchen and setting the pot down on the stove. "Alice was busy but she asked me to check up on you and bring you some lunch. And of course provide some company," she added.
"Can you help me with the basket?" she asked. "I brought a fresh loaf of bread, some butter, and some fresh berries. They have just started to ripen. I think Alice put a few cookies in there as well."
Rachel hesitantly went to the table and watched as Kathryn removed so much food from the basket. Rachel and her family had never had enough food for more than two real meals a day. This woman was unpacking a small feast.
"Are you hungry, Rachel?" Kathryn asked.
Rachel didn't answer.
"I know you might still not be feeling well so I made you some chicken soup," the woman continued, taking no note of Rachel's silence. "Were you able to eat any of what Alice left for you? She told me she'd made you some porridge this morning."
Rachel's stomach sunk as Kathryn went to the stove and looked inside the pot Alice had left for her. She would no doubt see that she hadn't touched her breakfast.
"I didn't know how to use the stove," Rachel managed to squeak out in her defense.
Kathryn's smile had not faded when she turned around. "And no one likes cold porridge," she finished sympathetically. "I remember how much my little sister used to complain when my mother would make her eat her food cold. It was her own fault," Kathryn chuckled. She never could be quiet long enough to eat while it was still hot. Our mother would never let us waste food though."
"I..." Rachel hesitated. Mama had never let her waste food either.
"No need to worry," Kathryn said, filling the space of Rachel's unfinished words. "Here we have plenty of food, and the pigs quite like porridge, hot or cold. It won't go to waste. But surely you must be quite hungry if you've had nothing to eat."
Rachel nodded. She was hungry, and the food Kathryn had bought looked delicious.
"Come here, Rachel," she said, beckoning her to the stove. I'll show you how it works. Its just a bit different from what you are used to, but you'll soon learn how to use a more modern kitchen. It took some adjusting for me as well when I first arrived, but if you come to work in the main house with Alice and I I'm sure you will be able to help in no time at all."
Rachel couldn't help but give a small smile in response to Kathryn's words. She was so cheerful, so kind. It seemed entirely genuine, her affect free of the slight chill Alice carried about her, even when she was trying to be comforting.
Kathryn showed her how to use the knobs on Alice's stove to light the burners explaining that the stove in the main house worked much the same way. The older girl even showed Rachel how to use the oven as they heated the bread she had brought and set water to boil for tea which she said Alice had insisted she drink.
"Alice truly is a great healer," Kathryn explained. "I have seen her fix up women who came here in far worse shape than you yourself. Within only a few weeks their injuries were healed and they were far less sickly. I'm sure this tea is just what you need."
Rachel could not help but wonder if those women Kathryn spoke of still resided on Magnus's farm, but the thought was disturbing so she tried to push it from her mind.
It was not long before the room was filled with wonderful smells and Rachel's stomach was rumbling impatiently.
Kathryn moved through Alice's home with complete ease, finding two bowls and ladling out soup for them both, setting the now warmed bread on a wooden board along side a knife and a thick block of cheese she'd retrieved from the icebox. Rachel had also noticed the generous helping of honey she'd added to the tea she prepared for her.
As it had been the day before, Kathryn's cooking was delicious. While her mother had always tried her best to provide for her and Papa, Rachel had never had soup so rich, seasoned with so many tantalizing spices. The bread was crisp on the outside and light and airy on the inside. Nothing like the corse brown bread her mother had taught her to make, and they'd certainly never been able to spare so much butter that they might slather it on their bread as Kathryn did. Rachel copied the older girl and found that the combination of bread and butter was heavenly.
Eating in silence the meal did not last long. Kathryn was seemingly content to wait for Rachel to speak if she wished, and Rachel was too busy watching the older girl to come up with anything to say.
What was Kathryn thinking about her? Rachel wondered. And just how close were she and Alice? Kathryn acted entirely at comfortable here in the old woman's personal space and Rachel could not imagine that Alice let many in her home. She had only let Rachel in at their Master's command. Could she really trust Kathryn if she was so linked with Alice?
When they had finished, Kathryn set about cleaning the remains of their meal, washing the dishes and putting them away, packing her now empty pot into the basket. Rachel only watched but the older girl didn't ask for any help.
"Why don't we take the leftover porridge to the pigs together?" Kathryn suggested when she had almost finished tidying the room back to its original immaculate cleanliness. "I can wait for you to get dressed. It's a beautiful day out and fresh air might do you some good."
Rachel nodded.
Thoughts on Kathryn? She certainly seems nice. On Alice in sending her instead of coming back herself? You will get to know Kathryn better in the next chapter, but could things finally be looking up for Rachel? As Always, any and all comments/critique are totally welcome and greatly appreciated:-)