23
D uchess Wilhelmina herself was stretched out on a chaise longue, a crystal goblet filled with scarlet liquid glittering in her hands. Misty was curled up at her foot, a ball of midnight fur.
“You brought her.” The duchess’s deep voice filled the room.
“Yes, mother.”
I couldn’t help but notice that Narcissa seemed more subdued in her mother’s presence. My knees were shaking as I lowered myself into a curtsy. “Your Grace.”
Duchess Wilhelmina set her goblet on the low table before her and regarded me. The silk of her deep red dressing gown gleamed in the candlelight. Something sinister lurked beneath her usual finery.
“It appears that Cordelia did not punish you satisfactorily after behaving so horribly at the hunting party,” she said .
“Your Grace?” I said. The issue had long been resolved. What could she mean by bringing it up again?
The duchess traced the rim of her goblet with a finger. It went around and around and around. “I am sure, Miss Flora, that you believe in justice?”
“I hope everyone does, Your Grace.”
The duchess’s finger paused. “Yes,” she said softly. “One who has done wrong must be punished.”
My spine stiffened as I took in the flickering candlelight, the heavy velvet drapes, and the closed double doors. Misty mewed and stared at me with acid green eyes.
“What shall it be, Mother? Shall she be whipped?” Narcissa’s gloating words almost made me jump. I had forgotten she was standing there.
“Are you a savage, Narcissa, or are you a noblewoman?” Duchess Wilhelmina said. She hardly spared her daughter a glance. How differently she treated Narcissa in public! I would’ve felt bad for the girl, if she hadn’t just suggested that I be whipped. I didn’t let myself relax, though. The duchess may be opposed to whipping, but what of other, lesser forms of torture? The old thumbscrew? A night locked away in a closet? Or perhaps her area of expertise: poison.
“My purpose for bringing you here is to right a wrong. You never received the punishment you deserve. What do you suppose it should be?”
Was she seriously asking me? I decided to go for the safest answer. “Whatever Your Grace deems appropriate,” I said.
Duchess Wilhelmina pointed at the servant girl behind Narcissa. “You. You’re dismissed. Pack up your things. Someone else will be taking your room.”
The girl squeaked. She was clearly distressed but curtsied low nonetheless. Without a word, she was gone. I watched in disbelief.
“Mother!”
“Never fear,” the duchess drawled. She gestured to me. “Here’s the replacement.”
“Y-your Grace?” I stuttered. Narcissa seemed equally appalled.
“Mother, you can’t make—”
“There is nothing I can’t do,” Duchess Wilhelmina said, eyes flashing. Her gaze was sharp and calculating as she sat up. “You, Miss Flora, will move here to the palace in the servant’s room. You will do Narcissa’s bidding and attend to her every need. You will not tell anyone about this. From now to as long as I say, she is your mistress and you will do everything she tells you. Is that understood?”
This couldn’t be legal.
Me? Playing servant for Narcissa for heaven knows how long? Impossible. “But, Your Grace—”
“Are you defying me, Miss Flora?” the duchess said softly. Ice shot up my spine at her very gaze.
I forced myself to bow my head. “No, Your Grace.”
“Defying me is a very grave mistake. Don’t think I’m not aware of your frequent visits to the outskirts of the city,” Duchess Wilhelmina said. She resumed tracing the rim of her goblet. “You disappear every week, do you? A certain shop called...ah, what is it? Miriam’s Terrariums.”
I froze. How did she know?
The duchess leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Would it surprise you, Miss Flora, that I find that particular shop as interesting as you do?” she said. “Maybe your friends would find it so too. But it would be a shame if everyone knew about its...charms.”
My mouth seemed to dry out .
“Your Grace, please.” My voice was hoarse.
“I wonder how poor, darling Ash would react when he finds out you were the one behind his mother’s death. How would he feel if he finds out you were a scheming witch all this time, getting close to him and misleading his little investigation to finish off the queen?”
I sucked in a breath. She knew. She knew I was a witch. And somehow, Narcissa did too. “How did you find out?”
The duchess scoffed. “I am not so foolish as to tell you , girl. You will do as I say or you will feel the consequences. And I repeat—you will not tell anyone about this unless you wish for death.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Get out of my sight. You will attend to your duties first thing tomorrow.”
I curtsied.
Narcissa was glowering at me when I rose, seemingly not as content as I thought she would be. Why wouldn’t she enjoy seeing me suffer and treating me like her servant? I swept out of the room before I burst into tears.
Footsteps echoed in the hall. Ash was pacing by a nearby column dimly lit by flickering torches. I hurriedly wiped my eyes, glad to see there was nothing there. Yet.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He paused and crossed his arms. “You didn’t think I would let you go into the lion’s den by yourself, did you?” he said. “What did she want?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again. “Nothing. She warned me not to disrespect Narcissa again,” I said. It was partially true.
He looked like he was going to prod me more.
I sucked in my cheeks. “You should go check on the queen. Make sure she’s getting better. ”
A crease appeared between his brows at the mention of his mother. “Right,” he said. He glanced at me again. The firelight from the torches danced in his eyes. “I should go. I’ll have a horse chaise called for you.”
I suddenly wanted to tell him everything. The duchess as good as confessed her crimes. But no doubt he would question what Her Grace held over me. Did I have the courage to tell Ash I was a witch?
But before I could make up my mind, he was gone.
IT WAS TRICKY BUSINESS explaining to the Strongfoots why I had to temporarily move out of their manor and why Genevieve wasn’t coming with me.
“My nannies missed me so much they fell ill. I ought to go visit them.”
Tori had said, “Amarante, I say this because I care about you. What kind of grown woman has nannies?”
I had to explain to her my relationship with Theodora and Rowena, their actual roles in the house, and how I still called them my nannies for old times’ sake. Genevieve offered to come home with me.
“Oh, it’ll only be for a week or so.” I forced myself to sound bright.
In reality I had no idea how long the arrangement would last. One week? A month? Until the end of the Season? Whatever it may be, I had to pack light to go through with my ruse.
I ended up bringing four dresses, under which I smuggled all of Lana’s books, and other essentials. The day before, a hefty package came for me from Captain Greenwood’s manor, full of the gold he promised. I packed that with me too and deflected Tori’s questions. I felt horrible for lying. I almost wanted to jump off the horse chaise as Genevieve and Tori waved goodbye.
It was hardly dawn when I arrived at the east wing of the palace. I was led to the servant’s quarters by a stern-looking matron in charge of the staff who introduced herself as Madam Josephine. She had an incredibly beaky nose and wore a high-necked dress. Right away I didn’t expect her to take well to my pleads of mercy.
“Lady Narcissa will be expecting you in her chambers in half an hour,” the matron said as we walked down a narrow hall.
“So soon?” I said, half-carrying, half-dragging my luggage behind me.
Madam Josephine harrumphed. “That is considered late for a servant. It is the highest honor to serve a noblewoman. Though it is beyond me why the duchess chose you.” She stared as I tried to tug my suitcase out of a divot in the ground. It released gracelessly.
It appeared Madam Josephine wasn’t acquainted with my situation. I didn’t bother to explain.
We eventually reached the end of the narrow hall. She pointed at a decrepit door that had fallen off its top hinges. I had to lift the door by the knob to get it open. And what greeted me inside was not worth the work.
“Your room,” the matron said. She shoved a wad of rough fabric in my arms. “Change quickly. I have other things to attend to after I show you to Lady Narcissa’s chambers.”
What Madam Josephine referred to as my room appeared to be a small abandoned kitchen turned into a bedroom by a group of drunk youngsters yet to find apprenticeships. A dingy cot nestled in the corner with a rickety nightstand at its foot. There was nothing else in the room except for a partially-boarded up brick oven. My jaw went slack. Was this where Narcissa’s previous servant lived? It had to be the ugliest room in the palace.
“What are you standing there gaping for?” Madam Josephine said sharply.
“But Madam, there has to be a mistake. Aren’t I to serve Narcissa?”
She barked a laugh. “Don’t tell me you expected to be her lady’s maid,” she said, her lips peeled back in a sneer. In addition to her beaky nose, she had very horsey teeth. “I was told that you are nothing but her personal scullery maid. You will sweep her floors and wash her dishes and empty her chamber pot.”
“I will what ?”
My question was ignored. “If you take more breaks than those given to you, Lady Narcissa will personally see to your punishment,” the matron said. “Take it from me, girl. She is not merciful.”