The foul stench of Flora's slippers awoke me before the wretched thing actually struck me in the face. Stiff and exhausted from a night of tossing and turning, I rolled upright, suppressing a groan. Flora's glowering face met my gaze, the beginnings of dark circles already forming beneath her eyes from her late night.
"I'm hungry." She said matter-of-factly. "Go to the kitchens and get me something to eat."
"Aren't you tired?" I asked wearily. I didn't want to get up and face the world just yet. After what I'd learned last night, I wasn't sure I wanted to face it ever again.
"No, I'm hungry." She glared at me. "And so is Annabella."
I rubbed at my temples, wishing my pounding headache would subside. The stench of the slipper probably wasn't helping on that front, and I glared at the horrid piece of footwear.
"Hurry up. Mamma said you must. She and Adella are too busy preparing for tonight's ball, or one of them would have come to wake you." I was grateful for that mercy at least.
"All right." I reluctantly got to my feet. "The ball isn't taking place until tonight, though." Numbly, in my exhausted brain, I wondered why they were already up. I'd heard them come in well into the wee hours of morning the night before.
"Hah. Shows what you know." Flora scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Tonight is the biggest event of the whole celebration. The prince will perform the traditional sword dance before dancing with his pick of the most eligible ladies in the room, and then the evening will end with a round of fireworks." She chewed at her fingernails. "So hurry up and get us some breakfast."
She left with an attempt at a menacing glare which only succeeded in making her look like a deranged ferret. I wanted nothing more than to roll over and dismiss the command, to lie on my side and stare at the wall without having to face the world, but I knew all too well the punishment that would be my reward for that decision.
Creeping out of my room, I tried to quietly work the kinks out of my muscles. I could hear Adella and Madame bustling about in the other room, and I wondered if they'd even gone to bed at all. They broke out into a sudden argument when I was halfway through the room, and I fairly ran the rest of the way to the door.
Still in my shabby finery from the night before, I hurried down the hall in a direction which I hoped would lead me to the kitchen—or to someone who knew where it was. I wished with all that was in me the floor would open up and swallow me whole or I would shrink into nothingness and end this horrible life. All the hope had fled from my body, and I only felt exhausted and listless.
A cry of pain pierced through my self-absorbed thoughts, and I blinked back to reality. Through my slightly blurred vision, I saw a big, well-dressed man standing over a servant girl. There was no kindness in his face, and the girl cowered before him in terror.
"Forgive me, my lord." The girl's quaking voice was barely audible.
"Forgive?" The big man's voice was hard and cold. It wasn't the bellowing noise I'd half anticipated from his appearance, but that only proved to make him more fearsome. "This coat was transported from somewhere a piece of filth like yourself could never imagine going. It cost more than your lowly life is worth."
His hand struck out faster than I'd thought possible, wrapping tightly around the girl's throat. He jerked her upright, lifting her off her feet by mere brute strength. She coughed weakly, her pleas for mercy soundless as he cut off her breathing.
"And you want forgiveness?" He snarled, punctuating the last word with a wicked punch to her stomach. "That's the problem with servants: they think because they're paid they're as good as their masters. If I had my way, all of you would be slaves."
YOU ARE READING
I Am Bree - Book 1
Fantasy****Copyrighted**** 'Tell me you don't feel it.' He whispered against my lips, and the trembling that had ceased at the feel of his lips against mine began again with renewed vigor. 'Tell me it's not what you want, and I'll go. You'll never have to...
