One Shot #7 - Maids and Masters

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It was a chilly night in a country in Europe, 1905. The firelight distinctly crackled in the fireplace of the sitting room. A pale, freckled boy with wild, curly ginger hair was sitting on the exquisite couch near the fireplace. A girl with light strawberry blonde hair, barely held together in two messy braids, was sitting across from him, wrapping up his bloody hand with tissue.

   The room was fairly sized. The wooden floors were fully covered by the deep red rug. Pictures were hung up on the wall behind them, portraits depicting the entire Burnett family line from when they first settled in this area. The house was practically an heirloom. Handed down from generation to generation, all coming down to the 15-year-old boy sitting in front of her.

   Tessie sealed the last bandage and stared at Roland. He stared at her, too, but they had different reasons. She was staring at him because she wanted answers. He was staring at her because he liked the innocent, pleading look on her face. It was obvious that he did not extremely regret the events that had taken place a few moments go. Tessie finally broke their gaze and focused on putting back the roll of bandages. She cleared her throat

   “Well, sir, the next time you feel like tumbling off a roof, you might want to land on something that's not your stupid toys?” Tessie gave a weak laugh. Roland laughed too.

   “Enough with 'sir'. I've heard enough 'sir' from you to suit a lifetime. You may call me Roland.”

   Tessie was taken aback by his statement. She was his maid. She was meant to wait on him, and wash his clothes, none of which she very much liked doing, but she knew what she had to do to keep her place. Addressing him as if he were a friend, as if they were equals, was punishable. It would definitely leave her a night with no dinner. Nevertheless, she carried on with her question.

   “Anyhow, would you care to explain what hap...why did you do that? I know we've made a compromise, but we're not even really friends, much less-”

   Ronald cut her off. "Because I like you."

   Tessie felt the breath hitch in her throat. She turned away. She had not expected this. Her cheeks were growing hot, she knew. She breathed out and in again, then she turned back. Her blue eyes pierced into his green ones. He didn't speak, but his face held a confused expression.

   “Why do you like me, then, Sir?” she asked softly. It was now Roland's turn to be surprised. Her simple statement now made him stutter.

   “Well-I-I-I...you-you're very...” he continued to go on like this. Tessie narrowed her eyebrows. Seeing her expression, Roland paused and then continued.

   “You're...you're quite pretty, really,” he began. Tessie made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

   “You're the only girl I've met who can wrestle me, and you can do as your told and still be defiant as ever, on the inside.” he said. “You're interesting, Tessie, and I suppose I've always fancied the things that interest me.” Tessie was smiling at him now, and he was glad, but slowly, the smile decreased.

   “Sir...ehm, I mean, Roland, if I were to ask you another question, will you promise to answer truthfully?” she asked. The smile was lingering on her face, but it was not full.

   “Yes, surely,” he breathed.

   Tessie pursed her lips. She slightly teetered back and forth, stalling her time. She finally said, “What do you see when you look at me?”

   Roland moved a loose strand of hair from in front of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Well, er, I see a girl with messy hair, with blue eyes and a small nose slightly covered with dirt, wearing tattered rags, that of a servant.” Tessie's eyes flared, her smile was gone completely now.

   “But you know what I also see? I see a girl who tried exuberantly hard to save her master. I see a girl who fell face first onto the ground after falling of the roof, for she was holding on to her master so long until she couldn't bare it any longer, so she had to let go. Who works hard to wait on him, afterward probably feeling exhausted, that her hair remains nothing more than a frizz. A girl who wears apparel of a servant because she was bought by the Burnett family, and who does what she is told, because she has nowhere else to go. I see a girl who has courage, and self-worth and deserves far more than she has ever received.”

   Tessie was both stunned and appreciative of his words. She had never imagined someone like him would ever have enough brains to say something like that to someone. He smiled at her, put his arms on her shoulders and moved her closer to him; so close that his breath tickled her ear.

   “Tessie, I really, really fancy you and I very much wish that you feel the same,” he said.

   Tessie tried to hold in her giggle, she found it a bit like a fairytale. She had loved fairytales as a child. It was stupid, though, how they were being so speechless when she had been assigned to him for three years. Maybe she could enjoy the fairytale for a little while...she could finally feel like the Princesses Nellie now worked for. She could be the beautiful maiden who got to live happily ever after with her Prince...

   Reality, however, works in a funny way. It always seems to come back to you once you finally feel pleasure. Tessie pulled away from the hug.

   She had somehow forgotten this was the boy who had mercilessly picked on her since her first day with the family. He had pulled her hair, and called Josie the horrid word when she had first introduced him. Come to think of it, when did he start to pick up the ideas of fancying her? A year ago, she guessed. He eventually stopped picking on her, he had even offered to help her once in a while. She had, of course, immediately taken his actions for another joke, but they eventually called truce when she realised his actions were genuine.

   Did she even like him? Tessie battled with that question. She supposed she did...maybe. He was quite handsome. He was well in school, he did teach her how to read. She supposed she liked the kiss...but the question was still a mystery for her. It was almost, but not fully. Her thoughts just couldn't allow her a complete yes.

   “Roland...” she whispered, without thinking.

   “Hmm?” he asked, still wondering why she pulled away.

   “What about the others?”

   “What others?” he asked.

   “You know, ordinary people,” Tessie said simply.

   Roland raised an eyebrow.

   “I mean, people like me. Servants, merchants, paupers...what do you see when you look at them?”

   Roland's mouth was in a straight line. He was taking his time answering. Tessie stared at him intensely. He finally sighed, and looked at his bandaged hand on his lap.

   “I think of them...of what I have been brought up to think. That they have been bred for no purpose other than to serve us. That it's okay how we treat them, they're the help, they can't quit because they need to be here. We always replace when they get too self-sufficient or if they steal or of they make it seem as if they are higher than us. They are not important. They belong to us.”

   Tessie took all this in with a straight face. The firelight crackled on, which Tessie was glad for.

   “That's what I thought. Good night, sir.” She said nodding. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and left the room.

   As she lay down in her cot in the basement, Tessie rethought the events. She wouldn't let herself succumb to the fairytale, she knew that for sure. But she thought it wouldn't hurt to have fun with it.

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