Persuasion in the Pantry [Maid for More #1]

Secret Chapter: Christmas Morning

[Welcome to the Secret Chapter. As usual this has no bearing on the plot of the story. It is just an amusing side note, in honour of Christmas being just around the corner. If you wish to, just skip ahead to the next chapter to continue the true tale.]

1835 (5 years prior to PITP)

The moon was at its zenith signalling midnight when Mina scurried her way through to Verushka's room. She hovered at her bedside trying to determine if her friend was asleep before prodding her indelicately with an index finger.

Prod.

Prod.

Poke.

"Ow!" Verushka yelled and rubbed furiously at her shoulder. "What is wrong with you?"

"It's Christmas!" Mina announced loudly enough for Liara to roll over on her mattress, coiling the sheets around her shoulders lovingly.

"Christmas?" Liara opened her groggy eyes still full of sleep.

"Yes, sillies. Now wake up!" Mina seized a stray pillow and launched it in the direction of Liara's head. "Presents, now!"

"Presents!" Verushka's feet hit the floor with a thud as she raced to their makeshift tree behind the pantry oven. It was probably the nicest place for a pine tree in the current climate. Outside of the Bexley Manor blistering winds railed through the yards and snow threatened with an icy chill before the descent of flurries. She had convinced Geoffrey, the pig keeper to drag in a lovely little tree complete with root and soil, because Liara couldn't bear to kill a tree just for the holidays. So, Mina had found a large bucket that looked suspiciously like an old chamber pot and they filled it with soil and water for a dismally dressed plant.

The girls had found little bits of coloured paper and strung it up with twine to render makeshift baubles on the brittle leaves. Old cloth was twisted into candy cane shapes and painted with Mina's meagre paint set to hang between the old broken ornaments that the Duchess had thrown out a few years prior. Toy soldiers with no heads now sat on unsteady branches, guarded by headless angels and riderless rocking horses.

Mina tottered into the alcove with a precariously laden tray carrying three mugs of steaming tea. She settled the drinks down onto the warm bricks by the bread oven and joined Verushka cross legged on the floor. The two girls stared up at the three foot tree of festive fun in awe and wonder.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Mina commented, not really expecting any opposition.

"It's just lovely," Verushka laughed, idly twisting a tiny doll with one eye and a single tuft of hair. "Our little tree of beautiful death."

"La Belle Morte," Liara announced as she waddled in still swathed in a heavy duvet. "It sounds better in French."

"You think everything sounds better in French," Mina rolled her eyes.