23. Tea for Who
23
Tea for Who
Annalise
A wise woman recently advised me that, when those who think they own you push you around… push back.
So, today, that’s exactly what I’ve set out to do.
Our footsteps echo throughout the corridor, and it’s a refreshingly thunderous sound. Before today, I hadn’t realized that I’d been tiptoeing through my own home. While it isn’t the home that I chose, it is mine nonetheless.
“Are you sure we won’t get in any trouble?” Tabatha’s whispered question draws a smile from me.
“Actually, I’m almost certain it will, but that’s kind of the point, Tab. To make waves, to disrupt the status quo.”
My answer has her visibly tense as she walks beside me, she and Guinivere both wearing the jeans and tank tops I’ve loaned them. Today’s work can’t be done in dresses, hoop slips, and fancy shoes. By the time we’re done with what I have planned, our nail polish will be ruined, there will be dirt on every inch of exposed skin, our hair will likely be drenched in sweat, and… I can’t fucking wait.
We turn the corner and the French doors leading out to the courtyard are just ahead. I can already smell the fresh air, and it excites me. I step out onto the patio with the girls in tow, and already from here, I spot the wheelbarrows and bags of soil I requested. The sight of which has me picking of my pace.
“Your tea with the Laurel Guild seemed important, Annalise. Aren’t you worried that?—”
“I’m not worried about anything, ” I interject, seeing the shock that widens Guinivere’s eyes at my words. “Those were plans Lady Radcliffe made without my input, so I’ve simply decided not to attend. If she’s upset about it, perhaps this will be a lesson for her.”
“A lesson?” Tabatha asks.
“Yes,” I nod. “It may teach her to seek my consent before filling my social calendar.”
The girls share a look, and I don’t miss their shocked expressions.
Our steps halt once we’ve reached our destination—a sizable stretch of land on the outskirts of the courtyard that had previously been unused. I spotted it during one of my walks, first noticing that it was slightly overgrown with weeds, but the second thing I took note of was that its position on the grounds provided excellent sunlight. An idea hit me right away, but with no real plans to follow through at the time. But when I awoke this morning, it was like something within me had changed. The words Aunt Pen spoke were—and are— stuck inside my head, and I could kiss her for waking me up.
I’m not weak. Never have been. Now, it’s time I let the staff here at the High Chamber know it, too.
“What are we supposed to do with all this?” The question leaves Tabatha’s mouth as she shades her eyes from the sun with her hand. She scowls at the supplies laid out at my request—gloves, shovels, a rake, a lawnmower, soil, seeds, a gardening hose.
I smile, wondering if the girl has ever gotten her hands dirty a day in her life.
“Well, back at my aunt and uncle’s house, I kept a small garden in the back lawn. I was the only one who maintained it, and it became somewhat of a sanctuary for me. I enjoyed seeing things come into existence by my hand. It was just sort of, I don’t know… therapeutic.”
Tabatha continues to stare at the items like they’re medeival torture devices.
“You don’t have to do this,” I assure her. “If you’d prefer to go back inside?—”
“No, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ll do it.”
I study her a moment, wanting her to know my offer was sincere. What good is it for me to assert myself if she and Guinivere are made to feel like they’re forced to be at my beck and call?
“You’re sure?”
She nods. “I’m sure.”
I take a breath and turn back toward the equipment. “Very well then. Let’s get started.”
The girls follow my lead, first helping me clear away branches and rocks, then they watch in awe as I mow through the tall grass and weeds. It’s grueling work, but I choose to stay focused on the goal—a beautiful vegetable garden we can tend and visit whenever we need a moment to ourselves. And since the estate has no need for additional food, I intend to anonymously donate what we grow to the less fortunate.
Three hours later, we rest on the stone bench on the outskirts of the garden, observing our progress. The first and hardest phase is complete. All without the help of my guards, who offered several times to lend me and the girls a hand. But I felt it was important that we did this on our own. Not just for me, but for Tabatha and Guinivere, too. Although their life paths have led them here, serving as my maidens, both were born into wealth and comfort. Like me, they were taught that their biggest accomplishment would be being paired with a rich nobleman and to bare his children. However, unlike me, they bought into it. So, today isn’t just about planting seeds in a garden, it’s mostly about planting seeds within Guinivere and Tabatha. Seeds that I hope will grow into more one day—strength, self-worth, independence.
All the things our traditions methodically strip away.
“Shit! It’s inside my shirt!” Guinivere yelps, leaping from the bench with terror in her eyes.
“What is it?” Tabatha asks, rushing to Guinivere’s aid.
“A huge spider! It’s inside my bra! I can feel it!”
“Grab the hose! Rinse it away!” Tabatha shouts, and when I glance toward her, she’s holding back a laugh, watching as a very distraught Guinivere grips the sprayer, angling it down her tank top.
Beside herself with fear, and not realizing the pressure the hose packs, Guinivere starts to squeeze the trigger as I race closer.
“Wait! Be gentle with it. You?—”
Before I finish my statement, Guinivere unwittingly blasts herself in the chest with a powerful surge of water, and another scream leaves her. This time, Tabatha isn’t able to hold back her laugh any longer. Which, in turn, makes me lose control, and we’re both on the ground in tears, laughing as Guinivere stares in shock, holding her soaked tank top away from her body. Even the guards crack a smile, two having to turn away completely as their quaking shoulders give away their amusement.
“I tried to warn you,” I barely get out, not caring in the least that my tumble to the ground has resulted in the left side of my body being covered in dirt.
“Know what?” Guinivere asks, her brow narrowing with whatever wicked thought she’s just had. “Looks like all that laughing has made you two quite thirsty.”
“No! Don’t!” Tabatha yells, but it’s too late. Guinivere squeezes the trigger, beaming the stream of water right at us, causing us to frolic in what’s now a mud puddle as we crack up again, struggling to get to our feet.
We’re covered in filth from head to toe, but honestly? It’s the most fun I’ve had in far too long.
“Ladies!”
The shrill voice has Guinivere releasing the hose, dropping it to the ground as awareness fills her eyes. First, it’s a look of shock, but then more terror. Even more than when she’d discovered a spider trying to make its home inside her brassiere. Half a second later, my gaze shifts toward the voice, only to find a very confused, and very angry, Lady Radcliffe observing me and the girls.
“What on earth do you three think you’re doing? This is not the way we carry on here at this estate. Wallowing in mud like pigs…”
The reference has another laugh threatening to burst free, but I hold it in somehow as Lady Radcliffe’s gaze shifts to me.
“And you! You’re supposed to be dressed and on your way to meet the Laurel Guild for tea! Explain yourself,” she hisses, and just like that, the trace of amusement that lingered with me is gone.
In my head, I hear Aunt Pen’s voice, reminding me of how these people are to be handled. So, I step closer, still hanging on to my dignity despite being covered in mud.
“Explain myself? Okay. Fine. You made plans I was no longer interested in keeping, so I made plans of my own. There, now you’re all caught up.”
Surprise flickers in Lady Radcliffe’s eyes first, only to be replaced by rage.
“You will mind your tongue when you speak to me, girl.”
“I will show respect when I’m given respect. And it’s my understanding that, as the lady of this house… you work for me .” I pause, stepping closer. “Is that correct?”
My words linger between us, and I can feel some of my power returning. Lady Radcliffe’s vibrating with anger, and I stand there, waiting to see what her next move will be.
“I’ll be having a word with the alpha regarding your behavior. And mark my words, he will not be happy.”
I smile as she glares at me, realizing something vitally important. That this is the extent of her authority—spouting rage-filled words, threatening to tattle to Cas.
I’ve set a precedent today, putting the estate on notice that Annalise Breedlove is no longer afraid. Aunt Pen was right. My title holds weight, and the only person capable of keeping me in chains… is me.