6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Lillith
A s I trudge down the palace hallway, Mairelle and Cherry flank me like two weary soldiers. Our faces are etched with weariness after a long day of relocating an army of cockroaches, a task so far beneath my magical potential that it feels like a cruel joke. What kind of person wouldn't just use their magic to get them out of their room or kill them all? From everything I had heard of Prince Asher before coming here, he obviously has enough power to do either. But no, instead he thought it best to have his maids come and relocate them instead. Can't he just be normal? I'm not even asking for full-on evil. We can get to that later.
"Ugh," I mutter, glaring at the polished marble floor as if it personally offends me. My brows furrow, and my lips purse in a tense scowl—my default expression when I am tired or irritated, which is basically all the time lately .
"Come on, Lilly," Mairelle chirps, her golden curls bobbing as she tries to put a positive spin on our situation. "At least we won't have to see those disgusting creatures again. Think of it as... character-building!"
"Character-building?" I snort, my sarcastic tone fully embracing my grumpiness. "Pretty sure I already have plenty of that."
Mairelle's eyes twinkle with mischief, and she laughs lightly. "Well, not all of us are so lucky to be overflowing with character."
No, some have far too much, including you. How could anyone possibly be so happy all the time about literally everything? No, not everyone here is like that. Mrs. Umbernuckle is quite the opposite. There appears to be no good side to get on.
I can't help but smirk at the thought of our enigmatic head maid. Ever since I saw her glide gracefully through the shadows, there was something about her that strikes me as suspicious. Is she hiding something? Or am I merely projecting my fear of discovery on the grumpy woman?
Cherry, our third companion in this cockroach-cleaning trio, shudders violently as we walk down the hall. She scratches her arm absently, as if she can still feel the phantom tickle of bug legs on her skin. Her dark hair hangs loose around her face, emphasizing her pale complexion, and her tall, willowy frame seems to sway with every step .
"Ugh, I think I'll never get over that feeling," Cherry groans, her normally regal demeanor momentarily forgotten. "I can't believe we actually had to do that."
"Believe it," I quip, still grumbling under my breath. "But, hey, at least we're done for now."
Our conversation lapses into silence, punctuated only by the occasional shiver or itch from Cherry. As we approach our room, my thoughts keep circling back to Mrs. Umbernuckle. Just what is it about her that sets off my inner alarm bells?
"Wait!" I exclaim suddenly, stopping short in front of our door.
Mairelle and Cherry both startle at my sudden outburst, and I can practically feel their eyes boring into me.
"I... I forgot something. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Are you sure?" Mairelle asks, concern etched on her face. "You look awfully tired, Lilly."
"Positive," I insist, waving them off with an airy gesture. "Just give me a moment, all right?"
"Take your time," Cherry says, her voice soft and sympathetic despite her own discomfort. "Don't expect us to be awake when you get back. Try to keep it down when you come in, all right?"
Nodding in agreement, I turn on my heel and head away from my room. My curiosity about Mrs. Umbernuckle has reached its peak and nags at me relentlessly. I can't shake the feeling that there is more to her than meets the eye. She seems so... otherworldly, and the way she moves, like shadows themselves are carrying her, is unsettling.
I tiptoe down the hallway toward Mrs. Umbernuckle's quarters, trying to remember everything I know about being stealthy without using magic. I have always been light on my feet, but this is different. I need to be as quiet as a ghost.
As I approach her door, I steady my nerves and focus on my goal. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
I take another deep breath. Silently, I turn the handle and crack open the door, wincing as it lets out the tiniest of creaks. Slowly, ever so slowly, I slip inside the dimly lit room, careful not to disturb anything.
"All right, Lillith," I mutter under my breath, my heart pounding in my chest, "time to see if your suspicions are correct."
I carefully scan the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The chamber is elegant and understated, with dark wood furniture and deep burgundy accents. Shadows dance across the walls, cast by flickering candlelight.
Does she know I suspect her? Am I walking right into a trap?
Shaking off my doubts, I continue my search, opening drawers and rifling through papers, looking for anything that could reveal who she is or if she knows about me .
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I suppress a shudder. Are those shadows moving, or is it just my imagination?
Just as I am about to open the wardrobe, the room's shadows seem to coalesce into a single dark mass near the corner. From it, Mrs. Umbernuckle materializes, her willowy frame appearing as though she stepped out of the darkness itself. My heart seizes in my chest, and I instinctively duck behind a tall dressing screen.
My pulse races, and I try to control my breathing, praying she won't hear me. I peek around the edge of the screen, watching as Mrs. Umbernuckle calmly strides across the room. She seems to be searching for something as well, her movements deliberate and focused.
Maybe she's onto me, or maybe Prince Asher is the one who's suspicious, and he sent her to keep an eye on me.
As she moves closer to where I hide, I weigh my options—use my magic to escape or try to slip away undetected. Magic would be easier, but if Mrs. Umbernuckle catches even a glimpse of it, she'd know it’s me. Besides, if she is as powerful as I am starting to suspect, she will sense my use of magic and possibly identity me. No, I can't risk it. I have to rely on my wits and agility.
Mrs. Umbernuckle pauses near the window, her back to me. This is my chance. With a deep breath, I silently step out from behind the screen and begin inching my way toward the exit. Every creak of the floorboards feels like a thunderclap, and my heart pounds so loudly that I’m sure she can hear it.
"Is someone there?" Mrs. Umbernuckle's voice cuts through the silence.
I freeze mid-step.
In a moment of sheer luck, Mrs. Umbernuckle turns her attention to the window, giving me the perfect opportunity to make my escape. I tiptoe across the room, each step more cautious than the last. My breath hitches in my throat, and beads of sweat form on my brow.
Finally, I reach the door. I grasp the handle tightly, praying that it will open without a sound. As if by magic, it opens with a barely audible click.
With one last glance over my shoulder at Mrs. Umbernuckle, I quietly open the door and slip out into the hallway.
I walk back to the room, my legs feeling like lead from a mixture of fatigue and disappointment. As I enter, I find my roommates sprawled on their beds, visibly exhausted from the cockroach cleanup ordeal we have just endured. Cherry is in the midst of scratching her arm furiously, no doubt due to the lingering sensation of tiny insect legs upon her skin.
"Ugh, I don't think I'll ever feel clean again," Mairelle groans, attempting to muster a smile despite her obvious discomfort. "Did you find what you were looking for, Lillith? "
"Unfortunately, no." I sigh, plopping down onto my bed.
That's not entirely true. I did learn that Mrs. Umbernuckle can move through shadows. That’s not an ability that most people have, especially not those employed to work a lowly job such as being a maid. Why is someone with that sort of skillset working for Prince Asher?
I change out of my maid uniform and into my nightgown, my mind racing with possibilities. What is Mrs. Umbernuckle is up to? I have a feeling that there is much more going on than I can see.
The shadows dance across our room, their forms twisting and merging with one another. My mind is filled with visions of Mrs. Umbernuckle, drifting through the darkness like a wraith, her intentions hidden beneath her enigmatic exterior. I can't let this mystery lie unresolved, and as I drift into slumber, my determination to uncover the truth only grows stronger.
***
I hum lightly as I tidy Prince Asher's study, taking my time to ensure every surface is spotless. My thoughts idly drift between Mrs. Umbernuckle's mysterious shadow abilities and Asher's blissful ignorance to the threats within his own walls.
The prince works diligently at his desk, his quill scratching notes in tidy looping script. A half-empty teacup sits beside him, its remaining contents steadily cooling. As his cup empties, so too does the afternoon sunlight that fills the room. Perfect conditions.
"Need a refill, sire?" I ask sweetly, drifting over with teapot in hand.
He glances up with a tired smile, grateful for the brief distraction. "Please, Lilly. You have my thanks."
As steam rises from the freshly poured tea, I count out three precise drops from a small bottle in my apron pocket. Gugulipid, a part of the rose family, takes effect quickly and subtly when properly diluted. Soon enough, Asher's symptoms will begin in full force.
I hum a cheery tune while finishing my dusting, awaiting the herbs' results. Sure enough, within minutes of him drinking from the newly filled cup, Asher wipes his brow, the stress lines on his face deepening, and a small hiccup escapes his lips. Victory. Such a petty thing to find pleasure in a man's discomfort, yet who am I to deny myself simple pleasures?
"You seem weary. Care for a reading? My grandmother taught me how to read the leaves. I make no promises for accuracy, but it can be a bit of fun." I gaze at him through long lashes, keeping my expression guilelessly concerned.
He eyes me with a curious look and waves his hand at the cup with a nod .
Delicately collecting his empty cup, I peer within at the soggy brown leaves clinging to the porcelain. Meaningless images swirl together at first, as insignificant flotsam often does, but soon, a shape emerges clearer than the rest—a bleached skull staring back at me through the vapors. How intriguing.
Concealing my interest, I point out happier signs in the leaves' abstraction. "Why, here is a bouquet of roses foretelling new love! And this blob looks for all the world like a pile of gold coins." But then my smile turns sly. "This twisted branch, however... why, it resembles a bent woman with a heavy burden. Perhaps one of your servants will displease you." I tilt my head inquisitively.
Asher frowns, concerned for his people but unsure how to interpret my musing. Perfect.
"And these smudges could be ravens, a sign of ill fortune or deceit. Best watch your back, my prince."
A hiccup startles Asher mid-response, followed swiftly by another. The prince grimaces, clutching his aching head. My work here is done.
"It seems the leaves foretell a trying day," I say sweetly. "Best you rest and recover. I'll take my leave now."
As Asher excuses himself unsteadily, hiccups wracking his form, I watch with satisfaction. My poisons and portents have taken root deeper than he knows, and he is in for a rough night. Soon, this palace will be mine to reshape as I please, with Asher none the wiser to his imminent downfall.
But for now, I have seeds to sow and plots to nurture in preparation. The leaves have shown me but a glimpse of what is to come.