Her Maiden

Chapter Three: Steak

Sunlight streams into the room as you hear the door open. You roll over in the heavenly softness of the bedsheets which you burrowed in last night after Lady Dimitrescu left.

You hope she won't mind.

Opening your eyes, you see one of the maids, Andrea, entering the room. Until last night, she would have been the maid who worked most closely with Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters - changing their bedsheets, doing their laundry, drawing their baths and acting as a wine bearer during their dinners.

Andrea had always seemed to pride herself on her position, and had never bothered to acknowledge a lowly scullery maid like you before.

Yet now, here she was, bringing you your clothes for the day.

"Andrea, please-" you begin. 

Surely she will take pity on you, give you information or even help you escape?

"I'm not to talk to you." was all she replied, coldly. She placed the clothes on the end of the bed and turned around, leaving the room without so much as a glance at you.

Charming.

You take a closer look at the clothing.

It's a simple gown. Barely more than a slip which ordinarily you would wear under your clothes. The fabric is white silk, and feels soft and luxurious. There's no underwear, no socks and no shoes. This is it.

Better than nothing, you suppose.

You slide off of the bed, bracing yourself as you drop to the ground. You raise the slip above your head and let it cascade down over your shoulders. It's good to have a modicum of coverage, at least.

You notice something on the bed, it must have been underneath the dress. It's a hairbrush and a hair tie.

You roll your eyes. Then you remember the anger in Lady Dimitrescu's eyes the first time you had neglected to wear your hair up.

You didn't want a repeat of that.

You gingerly drag the brush through your hair. You braid it back. It's a little messy, but you don't really care.

You're preoccupied with the notion that in a little while from now, you'll be sitting and having breakfast with Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters. 

You shudder at the thought.

You freeze when you hear the door handle to the bedroom begin turning, slowly, painfully slowly.

Was it her?

Suddenly the door flies open, almost making you jump out of your own skin.

There are three women buzzing around the doorway. Two you recognise from last night, and then a third who seems to evaporate all at once before reappearing behind you, pressing her face to your neck and inhaling deeply.

You jolt, how the hell had she done that?

She throws her head back and laughs thickly.

"Daniela, quit it."

One of the other women hisses. Her expression is almost unreadable but her voice carries weight, authority.

The woman, presumably Daniela, rolls her eyes, but complies and backs off from you.

Thank god.

The third woman licks her lips, eyes twinkling, seemingly entertained by the whole thing. She catches you looking at her and winks.

You look away immediately, flushed.

"We're to escort you to breakfast. I'm Bela, this is Cassandra. Daniela is our delinquent youngest sister." the authoritative one stated. She rolled her eyes at that last remark, exasperatedly.