11-03-2017, 08:27 PM
Nessie groaned under a heavy stack of plates. She'd picked up heavy things before. An unwed woman wouldn't make it very long sharing two rooms with her only remaining family without learning to pick a few things up without help. But she'd never been so careful before! The stack of plates, few though they were, were worth more than she was! Placing them on a nearby bench produced a sigh of relief, both from the strain and from the angst.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, then rubbed it off on her apron and eased her back straight. Second day on the job and she was already exhausted, but catching the willowy kitchen manager looking her way quickly put Nessie back on task. She wrapped up each plate in a silk cloth and carefully set them inside their cabinet below the bench. The work was slow, for fear of chipping the exquisit porcelain, and her knobby fingers were not so nimble as might be expected for a girl her age. She had the knuckles of a hard life, but at least there was still meat on her bones. There were many she knew who were looking far worse.
Despite the necessity of this job, and the quick correction that by cleaning the House manager who hired her meant 'cleaning' in the most mundane of ways. Such as scrubbing the kitchen baseboards on sore knees, or stoking fires attempting to flare up and burn her, or putting away clean dishes after an extravagant ball over in the main house the night before. She had to earn the right to do the actual washing. These plates were so expensive not just any servant were allowed to dip them in the enormous basin of suds. She could however put them away once shown the proper technique.
Despite her diligence, she held one up for closer inspection. The white center was the purest of whites she'd ever seen. Not even the fluffiest of clouds could be so pure as this porcelain. Then the pattern cast around the edges sparkled with silver and gold lines. The thin streams of such expense swirled and looped around the edges it must have looked so delicate and rare laid out across a long table as they must have been. There were stacks and stacks of the plates to put away of all different sizes. What food would you possibly eat off something so valuable? The manager was glaring at her again, so she folded the silk across the design with a sigh and placed it with the others. She was so lucky to have this job. She'd be folding napkins next once they came back from the laundry .. and once she was shown the proper technique. Who knew napkins had to have so much care! Laundered, ironed, folded, and stored so they would not wrinkle. She almost lost this job being so late yesterday, but the Guards vouched for her. And Nessie was a hero, she thought with a twinge of a smile. She'd saved a man's life. If not for her and her shortcuts, the poor man might have wasted away in the puddles all alone. Now he was safe and cared for in a Healing House. The victim of a mugging turned fight, the Guards had told her.
She was standing with a slightly straighter back thinking about how her Sister had reacted to her heroism, All the more reason to stay out of the Crossing Runs! Good strong men die out there! What if that'd been you, Ness! She heard some new voices and looked up in time to see the Kitchen Manager standing and dipping a small curtsy upon entrance of the House's Head Maid. The woman was short, but very intimidating in her stout, pristine dress with upturned collar stiff to her chin, House crest - the Owl and Oak - sewn onto her sleeve, and tightly pulled bun. She looked about the age Nessie's mother might have been, but looked nothing like her. She wondered not for the first time what her father looked like. Nessie's quickly resumed her packing away of plates, but swallowed a growing concern when the kitchen manager pointed her out to the Head Maid. Who was now coming over!
Nessie wasn't sure how to react, so she dipped an awkward curtsy as the Kitchen Manager had done, and looked to the floor. Her own apron was smudged with grease, her knobby hands had black rings under the nails, and her old shoes peeked out from behind a poorly sewn hem.
"Nessie Oaktura, yes?"
A sound of disapproval touched the Head Maid's investigation. Nessie looked up and found the Head Maid studying her like a piece of meat at a butchery. She wrung her hands out on her apron nervously. "Yes, mum?"
And she wished her nails were cleaner. At least her Sister had braided her mousy hair into a snug braid last night. It was about the only thing on Nessie so neat and tucked.
"Their Graces Lord and Lady Taravin require your presence."
Nessie's stomach flip flopped. Not THE Lord and Lady. "What?! Me?! Why??"
Her face must have paled more than usual because the Head Maid tsk'd Nessie to follow immediately. "Never mind that now. Nobility of their station are not accustomed to waiting on sloppy servants." There was no time to change her clothes, she was told, but the Head Maid gave her a clean apron to wear and a little cap for her hair like the night maids in the grand manor wore. From every step between the outer kitchen house to the main manor she was instructed on how to behave: it seemed there was a technique for everything with nobility. From folding their napkins to saying hello.
Forget courtesies, Nessie would call the day a success if she didn't throw up in front of them.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, then rubbed it off on her apron and eased her back straight. Second day on the job and she was already exhausted, but catching the willowy kitchen manager looking her way quickly put Nessie back on task. She wrapped up each plate in a silk cloth and carefully set them inside their cabinet below the bench. The work was slow, for fear of chipping the exquisit porcelain, and her knobby fingers were not so nimble as might be expected for a girl her age. She had the knuckles of a hard life, but at least there was still meat on her bones. There were many she knew who were looking far worse.
Despite the necessity of this job, and the quick correction that by cleaning the House manager who hired her meant 'cleaning' in the most mundane of ways. Such as scrubbing the kitchen baseboards on sore knees, or stoking fires attempting to flare up and burn her, or putting away clean dishes after an extravagant ball over in the main house the night before. She had to earn the right to do the actual washing. These plates were so expensive not just any servant were allowed to dip them in the enormous basin of suds. She could however put them away once shown the proper technique.
Despite her diligence, she held one up for closer inspection. The white center was the purest of whites she'd ever seen. Not even the fluffiest of clouds could be so pure as this porcelain. Then the pattern cast around the edges sparkled with silver and gold lines. The thin streams of such expense swirled and looped around the edges it must have looked so delicate and rare laid out across a long table as they must have been. There were stacks and stacks of the plates to put away of all different sizes. What food would you possibly eat off something so valuable? The manager was glaring at her again, so she folded the silk across the design with a sigh and placed it with the others. She was so lucky to have this job. She'd be folding napkins next once they came back from the laundry .. and once she was shown the proper technique. Who knew napkins had to have so much care! Laundered, ironed, folded, and stored so they would not wrinkle. She almost lost this job being so late yesterday, but the Guards vouched for her. And Nessie was a hero, she thought with a twinge of a smile. She'd saved a man's life. If not for her and her shortcuts, the poor man might have wasted away in the puddles all alone. Now he was safe and cared for in a Healing House. The victim of a mugging turned fight, the Guards had told her.
She was standing with a slightly straighter back thinking about how her Sister had reacted to her heroism, All the more reason to stay out of the Crossing Runs! Good strong men die out there! What if that'd been you, Ness! She heard some new voices and looked up in time to see the Kitchen Manager standing and dipping a small curtsy upon entrance of the House's Head Maid. The woman was short, but very intimidating in her stout, pristine dress with upturned collar stiff to her chin, House crest - the Owl and Oak - sewn onto her sleeve, and tightly pulled bun. She looked about the age Nessie's mother might have been, but looked nothing like her. She wondered not for the first time what her father looked like. Nessie's quickly resumed her packing away of plates, but swallowed a growing concern when the kitchen manager pointed her out to the Head Maid. Who was now coming over!
Nessie wasn't sure how to react, so she dipped an awkward curtsy as the Kitchen Manager had done, and looked to the floor. Her own apron was smudged with grease, her knobby hands had black rings under the nails, and her old shoes peeked out from behind a poorly sewn hem.
"Nessie Oaktura, yes?"
A sound of disapproval touched the Head Maid's investigation. Nessie looked up and found the Head Maid studying her like a piece of meat at a butchery. She wrung her hands out on her apron nervously. "Yes, mum?"
And she wished her nails were cleaner. At least her Sister had braided her mousy hair into a snug braid last night. It was about the only thing on Nessie so neat and tucked.
"Their Graces Lord and Lady Taravin require your presence."
Nessie's stomach flip flopped. Not THE Lord and Lady. "What?! Me?! Why??"
Her face must have paled more than usual because the Head Maid tsk'd Nessie to follow immediately. "Never mind that now. Nobility of their station are not accustomed to waiting on sloppy servants." There was no time to change her clothes, she was told, but the Head Maid gave her a clean apron to wear and a little cap for her hair like the night maids in the grand manor wore. From every step between the outer kitchen house to the main manor she was instructed on how to behave: it seemed there was a technique for everything with nobility. From folding their napkins to saying hello.
Forget courtesies, Nessie would call the day a success if she didn't throw up in front of them.
Only darkness shows you the light.