"Briar! Wake up!"
"Amita, its not even dawn yet! Five more minutes..." I swat at the hand in my face, shifting my weight on the lumpy mattress unhappily. The castle didn't supply it's servants with their own quarters for each worker, we had to share. Lucky for me, the girl from yesterday, Amita; I finally learned was her name, was my roommate. Which meant that I couldn't use my lamp for anything, not even the privacy and comfort of my own room and soft bed.
Yay.
On top of that, we had to get up at ungodly hours to prepare the castle for the royals. Breakfast, warming the fires, and cleaning all apparently had to be done in the morning so as not to 'disgrace the King and Queen with our dirty presence' as mistress put it.
"Amita, tell me again why I chose to take this job?" I groan at I sit up. Stupid bed, you'd think they would treat their servants better than this. There were even extra rooms, but they were down one of the more unused paths of the tunnels, I hear they even connected to the prison from here. I shiver, I definitely won't be wandering around down here alone anytime soon. Finally complying to Amita's orders, I sit up; surveying the dirty little room we share.
The bed practically is the only thing in the room, taking up most of the space with only a small area between it and the smudged old walls. The bed itself only has a small blanket and myself on it, me and Amita had been fighting over who got it all night. The door is on the other side of the room, where the only space large enough to do anything was. Amita was changing, seemingly accepting that I would get up on my own.
I joined her, helping her tie the apron around her gray dress, and let her do the same for me. My hair hangs around my face, too short to pull back. but Amita pulls hers behind her head with a thin strip of fabric, and I stare jealously. I miss the feeling of having long hair. I could do so much with it, this shorter cut hung in my face and wasn't long enough for me to do much but huff in annoyance and blow it out of the way.
Amita either ignores me, or doesn't see my jealousy. I pull back, ashamed. The girl has been nothing but kind to me, and I am supposed to be her best friend. But here I am thinking of how satisfying it would be to grow my hair back just to have it longer than hers. Something that surely would give away the fact I had access to magic and blow my cover as Briar.
"Let us be off then, the royals breakfast will not prepare itself." Amita straightens up, looking at me expectantly. I lead the way out of our small room into the empty hall, and I stop in the doorway; normally at this time there are people everywhere, getting ready for the day. Crud. "We're late!" I call back, and break into a run. I hear a curse before Anita follows. We run down the halls, exiting the servants quarters and heading into the main halls of the castle.
The sun hasn't even risen in the stain glass windows, and the only other people in the halls are the servants who awoke on time and are attending to their work. We rush past, frantic to get to the kitchens where we have been posted the past week or so. "Henry's gonna kill us!" I pant, my lamp bouncing up and down as I run. I grit my teeth, thinking of the mess I'll have to deal with if I ever get the chance to go in again.
Amita and her more fit shape starts to pass me to the kitchen, and I increase my speed in order to keep up. I stare at her hair again longingly, from what I can gather, she and Briar grew up outside the city's limits, away from the street urchins and the horrors that would be aware of if they grew here.
They came in when the underground rebels took over the farm as a war headquarters, fleeing into the city. They had lived on the streets for a few days before going before the King to plead for help. Their families had been either killed or taken prisoners. Amita wasn't sure which. The prince had been quick to give them a job, and here Amita, and I, were.
I frowned, shaking my head. I need to ask Len about that, the Underground wouldn't really do that, I hope. They wanted a better life for the people, they wouldn't take from the ones who were working for their life, and most certainly wouldn't kill them. Looking up, I can see the kitchen ahead; hear the clanging of pots and pans as they prepare breakfast. We increase our speed, and burst into the large room panting.
Henry, the head cook, gives us a dirty look before pointing a meaty finger to the sinks, where a large amount of dirty pots already rest. Henry's really more of one of the silent but big types. Being a cook for the royal family, as protocol he has to taste the food he prepares for them to prevent poisoning. Therefor, he's eaten so much of the rich food that his size has grown to be comparable to a small bear. Course, since he is too busy in the kitchens to go work off the food with the guards, the process is unlikely to be reversed any time soon.
Amita turns to the sink, going back to giving me the shoulder like she has all week. Ever since I got to deliver the knife and failed to tell her anything about it. I told her I just dropped it in his room, but I can tell she doesn't believe me. Especially since I needed her help finding the kitchens the next morning.
I turn beside her, and begin the process of scrubbing every bit of food from Henry's pots. From the looks of it, the royal family will be eating a large amount of cooked fruits drenched in sticky sweet syrup this morning. I wrinkle my nose as I reach my hand into the deep pot Henry insists on using, I think it just makes him happy to see all the huge pots on one stove, like the big important chef he is.
Or he just likes to watch the less important help get food in their hair while they reach to the bottom of the pot.
I frown as I feel it drip on top of my head, "A pot this big is a bit unnecessary, don't you think?" I whisper to Amita, trying to start a conversation. I pull my head out of the pot to see her stand over hers, her long hair doesn't have a speck of food in it, whereas mine is covered in sticky syrup.
She smiles at me, or more accurately, my hair. "You look ridiculous." She snickers. I smile, at least we've broken the ice a bit. I kind of need someone to talk to, or at least give me directions. "Here, give me that." she says gesturing to the pot, "I won't get it in my hair, you however, will send mistress into a fit looking like that. if I do this one and the deeper ones, you can do the ones that don't include sticking your head into. Then we can figure out a way to wash it, and fast."
I nod, handing over the pot. "Thanks," I laugh, holding a sticky strand of hair in front of my face. "She really doesn't like me, this wouldn't help, would it?"
"No miss Briar, it wouldn't."
I jump around in surprise, cringing at the sight of the very woman we'd been speaking of behind us. "Oops." mutters Amita guiltily.
Mistress stands behind us with Henry, who looks pretty disgruntled that she's invaded his domain. The morning light streaking through the window throws her face in shadow, one side dark, and one side light. Her hands rest on her hips, and an ever disapproving frown rests upon her lips.
"You" she points a bony finger to me, "Come with me."
"Yes Mistress," I say. What did I do wrong this time? The woman is never satisfied. I've been avoiding her all week in hopes of avoiding another slap.
She turns abruptly on her heel and strides out of the kitchen, leaving me to send poor Amita a sorry look. But she's already turned back around to finish the dishes. Her head is in the pot and her hand is turning white around the knuckles. I duck out of the kitchen before Mistress can leave me behind.
But of course she's already halfway down the hall and I have to run to catch up, drawing stares from the servants out and about with their own business. I reach a hand up to my sticky hair self-consciously. Even my poor lamp is covered in the cursed juice. I clutch my fist around it, hiding the magic that cleans the surface. When I let go the lamp is clean and no longer sticky, I smile grimly. The one bit of magic I can do here. I lengthen my stride, and catch Mistress.
"May I ask where we are going?" I plead, turning to her. I feel strange without Amita by my side, she might be ignoring me, but that doesn't mean I don't miss her quiet shadow.
"First to the baths, to make you presentable," Mistress eyes me warily, as if the goo in my hair might jump out and attack her next. "Then you are to meet with the prince. He has requested your presence."
That last sentence nearly stopped me in my tracks, the Prince? I had only met him once, and that was on accident, kind of. Whatever could he want with me? My heart rate quickened, he couldn't know that I'm here to gather information for the underground could he? Had he killed someone else for information? This could go really bad, but what if he doesn't know? Maybe he just wants to speak with me for some other reason. This could be the chance I've been waiting for to actually start getting the info I need.
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
The baths for the help are nothing if not intrusive. Privacy seems to be a forgotten word to the royals. A blanket hangs over a small doorway leading to the room, and a large pool carved out of the natural rock is inside. The entire thing is in the servants quarters, out of sight of anyone important. The frigid water the only way to keep yourself from smelling. There's nobody there when I go in, everyone's still off doing their work, the day did just start after all.
After bathing, Mistress leads me through the halls, finally stopping at an ornately carved door in the royal wing. "Try not to embarrass yourself girl." She says, then clacks her way back to where we came from; yelling at other servants on how to do their jobs right as she goes.