Talon the Black (Dragonwall Series # 1)

Chapter 43 - Adjusting

Kastali Dun

Claire was vaguely aware of shuffling near her bed. Someone was in her room. A yellow glow seeped beneath her eyelids. She groaned and rolled over.

"Please, miss!" The voice was insistent. "It is time to wake."

A dream—this was only a dream. She groaned again and threw the covers over her head. The next moment they were ripped from her grasp. Cool air kissed her exposed skin. Her eyes flew open in frustration.

"Miss Tess will have a fit if we're late," the voice warned. She was too groggy to process anything. "There now, you are waking up. Come, dress yourself. We must be going."

"But I donwanna geup," she grumbled, reaching for the covers at the foot of her bed. The woman noticed and flopped down upon them, sighing. Through the yellow glow, she saw that she was curvy, with hair and eyes the color of dark chocolate, and a plain but pleasant face.

"Once you stand up, it will be easier," the woman said. "And if you hurry, we might get some food." At the mention of food, her stomach growled. She begrudgingly got up and gathered her clothes. The woman moved over to the door and waited. Her lantern cast bright light around the dark room. The sun was not yet up.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" she finally asked, pulling her nightgown over her head before throwing on her smock. The woman didn't bother to turn away from her nudity.

"Oh, do forgive me! I'm Desaree. You will be my charge while you're here."

"Desaree." She said the name out loud to remember it. "It's nice to meet you, Desaree. I'm Claire."

Desaree chuckled. "Begging your pardon miss. We all know who you are."

"Oh, of course you do," she muttered. She pulled the gray kirtle over her head and Desaree helped her with the white apron.

As they made their way through the giant castle, Desaree chatted. "This here leads to the southern wing. That's where the king lives, in a giant tower full of ornate rooms." They passed a carpeted corridor. The walkway was lined with statues of armored men and tapestries.

"Have you ever seen it? The king's tower?" she asked out of curiosity. One could easily imagine how spectacular it must be, especially considering what a selfish prick the king was.

"Oh, no, I have not. I would love to someday. Only the chamberlain and the king's man servants go up there, well, and his Shields, and the lower council. But I have heard about it. Rugs woven from the finest yarn, tapestries from the lands beyond the Dragonfire sea, statues of pure gold..." Desaree donned a dreamy, faraway look. They walked farther along before she spoke again. "The linen washrooms are that way." She pointed in another direction. "You and I will be there later today, I dare say."

Claire nodded, suppressing a yawn, trying to commit the locations to memory.

"Oh, and that direction will take you to the grand dining hall. All the nobles eat there when they wish to be social. And that way takes you to the outer courtyards. Someday I will show you the royal gardens. We are not supposed to go in them but we all sneak in when no one's looking." Desaree pointed in many different directions. It was a lot to remember.

At last, they reached the cookery. As suspected, they were too late for breakfast. The thought of missing the most important meal of the day was depressing.

"Oh no, we don't actually get much for breakfast," Desaree informed her. "But if you are smart about it," she added, whispering, "you can sneak some bread from the ovens. It is better fresh, anyway."