Tainted | Maven Calore

Chapter 003.

The kitchen was bustling. Even hours after dinner, there was still much to do. There were dishes to wash, small plates of pastries and trays of tea to prepare and bring upstairs, and there were things that needed to be put away. It was a part of Adelaide's nightly tasks, done when the night was quiet and everything else had already been done. She knew it was menial and, not to mention, dull, but she took comfort in putting away the plates and the cutlery and the cups. It was a quiet task against the usual backdrop of the rushing servants.

She picked up the shallow plastic box that contained the dinner plates that were used earlier that day, a meager portion of the things she needed to put away. These she knew belonged to the left side of the kitchen—the quietest side, sectioned out from the rest, only used to take things to set the table and to put them away—in the fifth cupboard from the left-hand corner. Another reason she liked this job is because of the little moments of peace she would get to herself. It was an everyday routine that ceased to change in the first few months of her arrival in the palace all those years ago.

Today, however, it seemed that the her peaceful little routine would be broken. As she fought her way over to the left side of the kitchen, the head maid called her name, looking terribly flustered as she waved her over, yelling out orders all the while.

"Here," one servant offered, taking the plastic box from her arms, "I'll take it. You go see what she wants."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a smile for his trouble. She wiped her hands on the red of skirt of her dress as she approached the head maid. Before Adelaide could speak, the head maid pushed a tray of tea into her arms, an irritable look crossing her face as she muttered dark things under her breath.

"Take this up to prince." She said, gesturing to the tray vaguely, "God knows why he asked for a service change, and such a specific one too! You better not mess up, girl. The prince asked for you specifically." She turned to her fully, and Adelaide could see an imposing, motherly aura emanate from her as the permanent frown faded from her face.

"I—what? Which prince?" She asked, not quite understanding the situation she were pushed into.

"The second one. Maven was his name, I think. Try not to make him angry." The head maid advised, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. Trying not to look so taken aback at the rare act of kindness, Adelaide nodded mutely, still feeling bewildered as the head maid turned around once more to bark out orders to the populace of the kitchen.

She was left to take the long, lonely trek to his room alone.

The halls of the palace were lined with paintings and portraits and windows that popped up in the spaces between them. They supplied the space with an air of openness and a breathtaking view of the palace gardens in broad daylight. When night comes, the darkness swallows the outside world whole, save for the lampposts that line the walkways outside, but their light could only go so far. Still, it's not like it mattered. No one dared to venture outside into the bitter cold of winter.

Even the air in the palace in cold. Shivering slightly, she quickened her pace to keep the tea warm. The prince would appreciate a warm cup of tea over a cold one.

In no time, she arrived at the hall where his room was located, puffing out clouds of air as she breathed, slightly out of breath from walking the length of the hallways. She eyed the guards posted outside of the prince's door, making her way over to them cautiously. They took no notice of her, a lowly Red servant coming to bring her master tea. Sighing in relief, she knocked on the door to his bedroom, announcing her arrival.

"Come in," was the muffled reply from somewhere within the bedroom.

Hesitantly, she turned the knob of the door and poked her head in, still unsure of her being here. The place was littered with books, but, to her surprise, it wasn't as bad as the rumours have said it would be. They were stacked neatly on top of each other, though they were still in haphazard piles placed in the most precarious of places. One rested on one of the bedside tables, the lamp that originally rested on it pushed to a corner to make space for the books. Another rested on a short pile by the bed, and she wondered how the prince got up every morning without tripping over them. Surprisingly enough, the prince seemed to have enough bookshelves to place the books in, and most of them held empty shelves. Shaking her head slightly, she cleared her throat to get his attention.