While Beauty Slept (7 page)

“Once you start collecting wages, you’ll fill this up,” Petra said. “We’ll see the seamstresses about getting you a new dress as well.”

“What are my duties?”

“Chambermaid, same as all the other girls when they start. Lighting the fires each morning. Emptying and cleaning out the chamber pots. Doing whatever needs to be done. I’m in charge of the queen’s rooms, but she’s away at the moment, so I have time to get you trained. Then Mrs. Tewkes will decide which of the ladies you shall attend to.”

“These ladies, are they very demanding?” I asked, worried that my inexperience would displease them.

“Some are,” Petra said with a wry smile. “For the most part, you’ll find they take no notice of you at all. Mrs. Tewkes instructs us to work as invisible spirits, never conversing with or looking at our betters unless addressed directly. I’ve seen maids dismissed on the spot for acting overly familiar. However, if one of the ladies does engage you in conversation, do your best to charm her. The right ally can make all the difference in your progress here.”

The right ally. Though it seemed unlikely a girl such as me would attract the notice of any wellborn lady, I remembered something my aunt had told me not long before:
Power is the true currency at court. Those who have it brandish it without mercy, be they servants or knights.
I had entered this world without ties to any family or faction. If I intended to retain my position and earn enough to secure my future, I must have a champion. One powerful enough to protect me from threats I did not fully comprehend.

“Don’t worry,” said Petra, “I’ll show you everything. But let’s get your dress sorted out first. Mrs. Tewkes will give me a scolding if you’re not properly attired.”

She flitted off toward the door, and I rushed to keep up with her. I expected to return to the stairs we had climbed, but Petra guided me toward a different set. On either side of the staircase, a labyrinth of dark, narrow corridors pierced the thick walls, allowing the servants to pass through the castle unseen. The thought of making my way alone through those dank passages made my heart sink with dread, and I kept close to Petra, terrified I’d be lost forever if she vanished out of my sight.

As we approached the bottom of the stairs, I heard the sound of trumpets faintly in the distance.

“It’s King Ranolf, back from hunting.” She looked at me with a teasing smile. “He’ll be passing through the Great Hall. Would you like to see him?”

I nodded eagerly.

She led me from the stairs toward an arcade of columns that lined a wide corridor. We stood behind one of the columns halfway along, peeking out from either side.

I heard the commotion a few seconds before I saw anyone: a rattle of chains and armor and swords, along with the thunderous sound of heavy boots. A few young pages passed before me, followed by a group of men crowded together, carrying longbows and quivers full of arrows. I feared I would not know the king in the crush of people.

Then he strode past, close enough to touch. It is an image I carry with me still, for that is how I would most like to remember him: at the height of his power, supremely confident that his destiny could be molded as he pleased. The king was not the tallest man among those who surrounded him, and he wore hunting clothes rather than a robe and crown, but he carried himself with such authority that my attention was riveted. I saw a long, prominent nose and a jutting chin, a profile distinctive enough to be recognized on a coin. His disheveled hair and beard were dark auburn with tinges of gold, and muscled arms swung from his broad shoulders. My skin prickled with excitement, and I understood how men could follow such a leader into battle without a thought for their own safety.

Within seconds the band of men had passed and the hall returned to silence. Slowly, other servants dashed out from the colonnade where they, too, had scurried out of the king’s path.

“Is he as you imagined?” Petra said.

“Even finer-looking,” I gushed, then turned away, embarrassed by my fervor.

Petra laughed. “Ah, you should have seen him a few years ago. He’s aged since then.”

“And the queen?” I asked. “Is she handsome as well?”

Petra shrugged. “Most say so, though her looks are quite different from his. You can judge for yourself when she returns to court. Now let’s see about your dress. They’ll be serving supper in the Lower Hall before long, and you don’t want to miss that. There’s no servants’ slop here. We dine almost as well as the king.”

I can still recall how it felt that first night, lying beneath those freshly laundered sheets, my legs exploring the novelty of an unshared bed. Despite the muffled sounds of the other housemaids, I felt utterly alone. Untethered from my past, yet a stranger in this new world. I wanted so desperately to belong in that magical place, where women boasted of their learning and men marched accompanied by the clang of swords. My mind summoned the memory of King Ranolf striding proudly down the hall. If the queen was half as striking, they would make for an imposing pair. How could I possibly be worthy of them? And if I were found wanting and sent away, how would my already shattered heart survive the blow?

Three

LADY OF SORROWS

I
did not meet the woman who was to transform my life until my second week at the castle. It was an encounter that remains vivid in my memory to this day, for it was the first time I glimpsed the darkness that lurked beneath the pageantry of court. The first tiny step in my loss of innocence.

I had spent the previous days trailing after Petra, tending to the rooms of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting. There were a dozen or so of these women, distant relations and daughters of noble families who lived at the castle under the king’s protection. They were expected to serve as companions, but in the queen’s absence they devoted themselves mostly to flirting and gossip. Cautiously, I had begun taking on tasks alone: rising before dawn to sweep away the previous night’s ashes and light new fires, emptying chamber pots, filling basins with fresh water, retrieving breakfast trays from the kitchen and delivering them by the time each lady awakened. With the queen and her closest companions gone, the work was lighter than usual, yet I crumpled with exhaustion each night, worn out as much by the strain of fitting in as by the actual work. Lying in bed in the dark, I longed to turn to my mother for advice. The fact that I could not often left me racked with sobs; I muffled the sound with my pillow to avoid disturbing Petra and the other sleeping maids.

Despite my inner turmoil, I was able to fulfill my duties competently enough that Mrs. Tewkes agreed to move Petra to the Great Hall, where she would serve at meals. Petra could barely control her glee at leaving the chamber pots behind.

“You are not released yet,” Mrs. Tewkes admonished. “I expect you to assist Elise for a time, to assure that her work is acceptable.”

But when the royal traveling party arrived a day earlier than expected, we were caught unprepared.

“One of the queen’s escorts has just arrived!” a footman cried out in the Lower Hall, where I was finishing my midday meal. “Her carriage is only a few minutes from the gates!”

I ran up the stairs to the queen’s sitting room to see if I could be of assistance. Two other maids were sweeping the floor and polishing the chairs. The chamber was impressively large, in accordance with its occupant’s rank, and adorned with decorative touches that feminized the space. The walls were hung with tapestries depicting maidens in gardens of roses, and images of flowers were carved onto the backs of the tall wooden chairs. A harp stood in one corner; in another a table was stacked with neat piles of fabric and colored thread. Through a door in the back of the room, I could see the queen’s canopy-covered bed standing in solitary splendor, surrounded by drapes of purple velvet.

Mrs. Tewkes appeared behind me and nodded approvingly. “Good, good,” she muttered. “Off to the kitchens now. The queen may request a bath after her journey, and we’ll need plenty of hot water.” I was starting to follow the other girls out the door when Mrs. Tewkes put her hand on my shoulder.

“Elise, light a fire. There’s still a chill in the air.”

Years at my family’s hearth had taught me how best to coax a flame from twigs and tinder, and my skill had already attracted both praise and envy from the other maids. Only the day before, Mrs. Tewkes had decreed that I was to light the morning fires in all the noble ladies’ rooms, including that of the queen when she returned. To my horror, I found that the logs piled in the basket next to the queen’s hearth had been touched by damp, and it took longer than usual for the fire to catch. Only a single meager flame had taken hold when I heard a high-pitched chatter approaching from the hall. Standing, I pressed myself against the wall as a group of ladies entered. I kept my face turned toward the floor but raised my eyes enough to see a flurry of skirts. A floral scent wafted toward me as they passed.

“My lady, this fire has only just been lit,” someone said close to me. “Perhaps we should retire somewhere warmer.”

“It will do,” a distant, weary voice replied.

I looked up toward the sound, but my gaze was blocked by an older woman who fixed me with accusing eyes, her lips thin with disapproval. Her sharp nose looked capable of stabbing me if I did not move quickly enough.

“Go on, then!” she snapped, waving her hand at the fireplace.

“Madam, I cannot hurry a flame,” I tried to explain, but my retort must have been taken as impertinence, for the woman knocked my ear with the back of her hand.

“I’ll tolerate no clever talk from you,” she snarled. “Tend to your duties.”

I sank to my knees and added another log, turning my back so she could not see the tears filling my eyes. I had spoken without thinking, ruining whatever chance I had to make a good impression on the queen. Would I be sent packing for a few thoughtless words?

“Leave the girl be, Selena,” said the same hushed voice I had heard earlier.

The woman before me must be Lady Selena Wintermale, who Petra had told me served as the queen’s first lady-in-waiting and closest companion. I did not doubt the woman’s ability to keep order in these chambers; a few minutes at her side and I was already afraid of her. I stuck a poker in the growing blaze, angling my body slightly to catch a glimpse of the room behind me. Lady Wintermale strode back and forth, dictating to a young man wearing the purple-and-green tunic of a page. He nodded continuously, but from the look on his face I wondered how many of her commands he would remember.

“Bring my lady’s doves from the tower, and make sure they have water in their bowls. The gold ones, not the silver.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the page.

“Next, tell Cook my lady’s stomach is troubled by her days of travel. A simple broth for dinner will do. . . .”

I looked past Lady Wintermale, toward the ring of chairs arranged in front of the fireplace. At the center stood one chair larger and wider than the others, its seat covered with a pillow of gold velvet. Four ladies in shimmering dresses stood around it, talking in quick, chirpy voices. Partially hidden behind their figures sat a woman dressed in a simple black gown. At first glance I might have taken her for a nun. Only the jewels braided into her hair marked her as royalty.

This, then, was Queen Lenore. She sat so quietly in that busy room, distancing herself from the commotion around her. Even her black hair and dusky skin set her apart from the light coloring of her ladies. She had the carriage and elegance of an aristocrat—I could not imagine those graceful hands washing linens or kneading dough—yet her dark eyes had the faraway look I had seen on many an overworked farm wife. I had never expected to see such sadness in a person so blessed.

I looked toward Lady Wintermale, wondering if she would indicate when the fire was acceptable. Catching my stare, she twisted her face in annoyance.

“You are dismissed,” she ordered. “Make sure the fire is going before daylight tomorrow. My lady rises with the sun.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I curtsied quickly and left, reassured that I was to retain my position after all.

Later that night I told Petra I had been surprised by the queen’s downhearted manner. “Is she always so?”

“Shush!” Sissy, the maid who slept on the other side of Petra, woke easily and often complained of the noise in the maids’ room after dark.

“Shush yourself!” Petra hissed. There was nothing Petra enjoyed more than court gossip, and it would take more than Sissy’s complaints to silence her. She turned back to me and whispered, “You should have seen the queen when she was first married. She’s much changed since then.”

“You were here?”

“I was just a girl, but my older sister was in service,” Petra said. “For years, from what she said, the castle was quite a dull place. The old king, Ranolf’s father, kept to himself after his wife died, and King Ranolf and his brother, Prince Bowen, were rarely at home. They preferred to seek out novelty elsewhere. No doubt the king had his share of conquests during those travels, but there came the time when he was expected to do his duty and marry. The story is that the old king presented his son with a list of eligible young women in the kingdom. He had only to point to a name and she would be his. Yet Ranolf told his father he had his heart set on a young princess from a country so far distant that his father could not place it on a map. From the moment Ranolf met her, he would have no other. Can you imagine?”

Love at first sight. I smiled to know that such things were possible.

“No heir to the throne had ever married a foreigner. They say the queen’s family was equally hesitant to send their child so far from home. But she was the youngest daughter and much indulged. Her father acquiesced to her wishes.”

“Did you see any of the festivities?”

“Princess Lenore slept at the Convent of St. Anne’s the night before,” Petra said. “Her procession passed through the valley that morning, and people cheered and threw flowers toward her carriage. I stood along the road with my parents, and I had never heard such a commotion. The princess kept her face hidden, as is the custom, but she reached her hand out the window to wave, and I just about fainted with the thrill of it.