HEIR | The Cursed Monarchy | Book 1

Emergence: Part I, Chapter 5

In the morning, Cecily pushed away remnants of her dream and resolved to show a more dutiful temperament to match the work she would be assigned for that day. She made several wrong turns before finding the small flight of steps that lead back down to the kitchen from the servants' quarters.

When she arrived, she found a scurry of activity in the large room as all the household retainers rushed about. Runa stood in the center, directing their efforts with a soft voice undergirded with steel. Not a wisp of red hair had dared escape her pins.

As the morning wore on, Cecily grew all the more anxious of her first assignment, preparing breakfast for Lady Muive of Alcove, who had sent word to the kitchen that her tea would be brewed exactly three minutes – nothing more, nothing less. It was the perfect temperature when Cecily loaded the items onto a solid silver tray and moved with haste up the back stairs to the main hallway on the fourth floor.

When she arrived at the lady's door, she managed to balance the tray in one hand, and tapped softly.

"Enter." Muive's soft voice already seemed to hold a degree of impatience.

Cecily stepped inside the room and, to her surprise, spied Daire's beautiful dance partner seated beside a small round table on the veranda. It was not expected, but her cheeks reddened with shame as she recalled spilling cider on Muive's dress the previous evening. Luckily, the elf barely glanced up from the parchment in her hand as Cecily approached with the tray.

The breeze, carrying with it the scent of grass and flowers, blew across the balcony railing. For a moment, Cecily eyed the breathtaking view of the east garden as she approached. Although the weather was beginning to turn cool, the evergreen shrubs that kept the landscape lush, green, and beautiful. From the garden wall looking west, she could see the harbor and imagined how beautiful it would be to watch the sunset behind the horizon every night.

"Pardon my interruption, Your Grace," she murmured, lowering her gaze as she set the tray on the table. "I've prepared your breakfast."

Muive scoffed. "Breakfast? As you can imagine, I'm not terribly hungry at the moment," she said in a voice that had something of a country richness in it.

With the parchment turned over and set aside, Muive picked up a piece of cheese from the tray and took a bite, savoring it before she swallowed. Then she looked up and noticed Cecily. "You're my new girl?" she said skeptically, her voice thin and flat. "Of all the people they could have sent to serve me my last meal. It had to be you."

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace?" Cecily asked, taken aback. "I have been asked to attend to your meals today."

"You don't know?" Muive tensed, then seemed to force herself to relax. "Now I find that very hard to believe. I thought everyone in this dreadful kingdom knew of my affairs."

Cecily felt her face flush, ashamed that she didn't know and that she may have provoked an indecent conversation. "Everyone except me, Your Grace." She caught her breath. "I only just arrived last night. I'm not one for gossip, I assure you."

Muive's voice dropped. "Good. You mustn't believe everything you hear or read in court. Most of it is entirely made up, of course, probably out of jealousy. You must know how society feels about women in my position?" she said in a harsh whisper. "Or do you think it must be so easy for me?"

There was silence. Cecily's heart beat faster, and she had no idea what to say.

The elf turned toward the garden, her hands on her lap. And then, when the silence had lengthened further, she added stiffly, "The truth is, my brother and I, well ... we had a bit of a row."