Lady Lunatora escorted us to her chamber, where she bade us wait. With a deliberate click, she turned the key in the lock—a curious gesture—before departing, likely to address the matter of the recent robbery and assault.

  “I know you’re about to burst, Dubart. So go ahead. Say it,” Princess prompted while I studied her appearance in a full-length mirror. Princess could be exceptionally beautiful, but a maid uniform still gave her a plainness I had not seen before.

  “What am I missing, Aufelia?” I intoned gravely, invoking her given name to emphasize the seriousness of my query. “What manner of relationship do you have with Lady Lunatora? You have never called me ‘Master,’ nor have I demanded it, yet why are you…?”

  “Yes, yes; I get it. Now, shut your trap. My trap,” she interjected brusquely. “Take a seat; my feet are getting tired.” Complying, I moved to a dresser adorned with yet another mirror and settled down. “Thanks. Now, what you have to understand is, Tirrha and I met when we were… young. I was just a little girl who didn’t know any better, understand? Before you go judging any further.”

  “I am not judging, Aufelia; I am merely trying to comprehend the situation. I presume you wish me to adhere to some form of protocol,” I reminded her, recalling her earlier instructions.

  “It wasn’t my fault! I don’t know how it ended up like this,” she kept excusing, despite my earlier statement. “I was like twelve. Nobody in the fucking mansion would speak to me, none of the nobles, that is. To them, I was only the orphan who cleaned Master Dubart’s crap off his ass, no better than any servant. ‘Little chamber-maiden’, is what they called me.”

  This particular title was an unofficial one, typically bestowed upon a woman tasked with emptying and cleaning the chamber pots from the lavatories—a humiliating, albeit necessary, duty. It was often doled out as a punishment or reserved for the lowest-ranking servants, though the de Irchard sisters had never been charged with such menial tasks, despite having attended to my more unpleasant bodily needs.

  “Then you know Riatna, Rascal,” she went on. “Nobody ever gets her down for long. She didn’t mind the veiled rudeness of people; everybody loved her. And Fermina! She was all grown up already, dignified, and lovable… You need no reminder of that. I remember what you were asking me about her in the carriage, by the way. The point is people liked my sisters, not me.”

  “I… apologize for taking advantage of you thus. Not thinking I would ever have the opportunity again, it was impossible to resist. Let it be known I am deeply sorry for my actions,” I stammered an apology while still able. Fermina’s feelings for me, according to Princess when unable to lie, were not different from what I had sadly supposed—a mixture of pity and compassion. She had never seen me as a whole man.

  “Sure, sure,” Princess dismissed, though I sensed the urge to roll our eyes. “Anyway, things were even worse because I had the night shift with you. I slept mornings, so I only got to talk to others during the late afternoon and evenings. I was not exactly popular. When I was sure the rest of my life would be like that, Tirrha just came out of nowhere and… offered me her friendship. Dubart, I was so happy.”

  “I can imagine. And I regret the burdens my weakness placed upon you and your sisters.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Don’t be. It’s not like you could help it; I made peace with that long ago. As I said, Tirrha and I became friends; she would call for me to her room, and we would play with her dolls. She would have me help her dress or with her hair, makeup, and a few other things a servant was supposed to do, but since everyone treated me like a servant already, I didn’t think much of it. She introduced me to people as we were growing up. I… sort of owe her a lot.”

  “Then why would you be resentful of Lady Lunatora?”

  “I am getting to that!” Princess shrieked inside my mind, her frustration mounting. “Tirrha liked… weird games, not at first, but over time. We were still playing with dolls when I was thirteen, but around the same year… look, don’t judge me for this, agreed? Tirrha was my first friend outside of my sisters, and it started slowly. Like, all children play pretend, right? She would have me pretend to be her personal servant, except we weren’t pretending for long, or at least she wasn’t. Then we would pretend… that I was a noble Lady and that she was a… ehem, you know, like a suitor. I know it’s weird!” Color flushed our cheeks as she continued her recounting. “We would pretend we were mother and child; she would be the mother, of course. That’s how it started. Our games got out of control over the years, and I was doing more and more… embarrassing stuff for her. I didn’t care too much because we had been doing it for so long, and she promised no one would ever, ever find out. So what if she had me lick her feet or… other places? No one was getting hurt, and she kept it a secret.”

  “Until that secret was exposed,” I surmised, having pieced together the rest.

  “And in the worst possible way!” Princess cried out with fervor, tears pricking at the edges of our eyes. “It was so stupid. It’s been around a year. Lady de Tobascin-Arcines had not given me that title yet,” Princess meant ‘The Prettiest Flower in Irghumin’, “so Tirrha didn’t expect it. It was time for supper; we were told one tartarian shortcake was left, and we all got excited. I believe eight people wanted it, and Arkin wasn’t around to ruin it for us, so it was fair game. Five or so of us were girls, so we decided that the prettiest person should get the cake; we were the majority, and people watching saw it as a chance to start a beauty pageant. We all paraded, one after the other, in front of the court. I don’t have to tell you that I was the winner; basically, everyone agreed, and I had grown a lot and talked to many people. I wasn’t the little chamber-maiden anymore; I was Aufelia de Irchard, perhaps an orphan, but also a noble Lady of a notable family under the protection of the Lord Duke. I was so excited to have won, Dubart!”

  “I believe I can foresee the rest,” I offered her an opportunity to desist, but she forged on.

  “Tirrha took it so badly. She was wearing a new dress; her birthday would be celebrated in a few days. She was kind of tipsy. People clapped and cheered, and I got the cake and the praises. I thought Tirrha would be happy for me, but she was sour all supper. After we were done, I guess she had enough when someone congratulated me on my victory. She… exploded. I had never seen her like that. She was drunk by then and poured wine all over me, calling me terrible things. So many people were present, like my sisters and even the Duchess of Vuldard. Tirrha tore my dress; it didn’t show anything, I don’t think, but that wasn’t the point. She pushed me to the floor, and in front of everyone, she… she shared our secrets. She said I was her little kitten; I liked it when she called me that, but only in private. She told everyone what she made me do, and people started laughing. I left the dining room in tears, wet in wine, my dress stained and torn. It was horrible. I am never going to forgive her.”

  “I am sorry that such a thing befell you,” I offered quietly, struggling to find the right words. “I am also sorry I forced you to relive it, Aufelia.”

  “It’s fine. Remembering how you made us run out of that healery buck-naked is worse. Making me show you my body is worse. Having you live half my life is definitely worse. I should probably hate you more than I hate her. She was a real friend for years, except for all the weird games, and you were kind of an ass even when you were alive. To me, at least,” she added, venting her frustration as I listened with repentant silence.

  full story:

  Amazon

  Apple Books

  Barnes & Noble

  Everand

  Fable

  Kobo

  The Palace

  Smashwords

  Thalia

  Vivlio

  Audiobook now available! Fully voiced for each character! Featuring sound effects:

  Barnes & Noble

  Google Play

  Kobo, Walmart

  Storytel

  Apple