Chapter 11: Chapter 11

“Lyra, do hurry with that,” Sheena snapped at me as I carried a wooden box of silverware toward the front of the kitchen. I was already sweating inside the uniform I’d been issued. Most days of the week I wore the simple gray service uniform but today we’d been issued longer black uniforms complete with white aprons that cris-crossed in the back. The skirt dropped to just below the knee, and it felt extremely odd to wear the same color as Sheena for once. Though, the biggest difference between our uniforms was in the collar. My collar was a rounded type and white; hers was the same but fully black, along with her apron. She snatched a fork from the wooden box, holding it up to the light and squinting as servants rushed about behind her.

“You washed these?” She narrowed her eyes at me and plucked another fork, comparing the two. “Lyra you have to do better. We don’t have time, take them back, have someone else clean them. You have to get out onto the floor.” 

I shrank back at her scolding and turned, walking the box back to the basin. 

“Don’t shrink away from me like that!” She called out after me. “We have a job to do and by and by you’re not doing it!”

“I’m trying!” I shouted back, immediately regretting my words as a few of the other servants shot me looks of terror, given that I’d just shouted at the first girl. I relaxed a little when I realized she hadn’t followed me back the kitchen and after dropping the box of silverware onto the side of the basin next to a very annoyed looking servant, I passed back through the door, walking past Sheena, and then pausing at the door to the presentation hall. To say I paused may be an understatement; I froze completely. 

“Lyra!” Sheena called out, walking toward me with a purpose. I clenched my fist as she crossed the kitchen, brushing past multiple servants as she tore through the room. Fear overtook me; I turned and shot past the prep tables and dodged around the back; my shined black dress shoes slapping hard against the tile as sweat ran down my brow. I managed to reach the back door before she could catch up with me and I burst into a brief hallway. A left turn took me into a wood-paneled corridor lined with doors on either side. I took off like a shot, made it halfway and then ripped open a door that read: ‘Supply’ in golden letters etched into its glass window. Quicky, I took refuge at the end of a shelf, surrounded by ceramic plates and cups. Bending over, I placed my hands on my knees and tried to concentrate on my raspy breathing as my vision blacked and I struggled to reconcile a queasy feeling forming in the pit of my stomach. It was okay, I was safe now, here in the darkness with the plates, and the cups, and Sheena standing right over me. I shrieked as I saw her and tipped over, falling onto the wooden floor and doing my best to shuffle away from her. 

“Lyra,” She said sharply. “I told you I’ve been in service my whole life. By and by, that includes this palace. I know too well the passages and the nooks, and the crannies, and elsewhere you might try to hide, so you’d just as well put up and do your job.”

“I can’t!” I wailed, backing up against a shelf and drawing my knees to my chest. The dishes clattered behind me. “Please don’t make me. Sheena find someone else, please.”

“Let me put this as simply as I know how,” She told me. “You’ll get to your feet, you’ll get back, you’ll plant yourself on that floor, or I’ll take a rolling pin to your skull, and then you can serve with a concussion.”

“Is…that your word of encouragement?” I looked up at her, biting my lip and hoping for a reprieve, but her stern expression was more than evident, even in the darkness of the supply room.

“This is my way of saying I won’t be having your attitude today. Nor will I suffer your antics. Up!”

There wasn’t a lot of choice, she bent over and force me upward by digging her nails into my arm, prompting me to rise on my own. 

“Sheena I can’t do it!” I shrieked. “Let go of me!”

“Move!” She shouted, pushing me and digging her nails in simultaneously. I struggled against her grip but no matter how much I pushed against her, I found myself continually moving forward and in more pain with every passing second the harder I struggled. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the door to the presentation hall; several of the other servants had stopped to observe us as Sheena leaned in close to my ear and whispered, her hot breath misting across my face. 

“You may walk out there with some dignity,” She said. “Or I will push you out, head over heels and you’ll get all of the attention that you don’t want. Don’t think for a moment that I won’t do it. I shall give you to the count of three, one, two-”

I stepped forward, pushing through the swinging door and emerging into a presentation hall that was far different from the one I’d spent several days preparing. A few servants walked behind me, prompting me to continue walking even though every instinct and muscle in my body urged me to run, hide, fight? 

The hall was filled with people. Nobles. Men in three piece suits, women in colorful dresses all conversing, laughing, drinking. The noise was overwhelming and I barely managed to make it to the front, standing and toeing the line with the other girls, all dressed in the same black service uniforms. I immediately placed my hands behind my back, observing the hall and trying to become invisible at the same time. But I was invisible - not a single person noticed me. I fell into a state of tense relaxation as the nobles continued to talk and laugh amongst themselves. Was my fear unfounded? 

“Lyra,” Sophie said from beside me. “Keep to your section and you’ll do well.”

“I can’t do this,” I whispered to her. “Someone will see me, they’ll recognize me-”

“I can’t even recognize you with that face full o’ makeup,” She assured me. 

“Then how did you know it was me?”

“S’easy when you’re the only one shakin’ like a leaf on the wind.”

“Funny,” I said stiffly.

“Oh, and now your teeth are on the chatter,” She said with a stifled laugh. “Best pay mind, your butler’s waving you down.”

It took me what I perceived as a few seconds to understand what she was saying, but suddenly, she pushed me from the line and toward the butler, Harkam who was giving me one of the many hand signals that Sheena had shown me. I reached him and he eyed me angrily. 

“Tell the kitchen to start another order of beef rolls,” He said hurridly, in a low voice so as not to speak above the Nobles. “And be faster!”

 The entirety of the evening went in a similar matter; I passed it walking back and forth between the kitchen, the table section, the lineup, over, and over, and over until I thought my feet were going to swell. Along the way I managed to catch bits and pieces of conversation, most of it pertaining to the situation in Hybra which I still hadn’t managed to work out. Then, suddenly, it came to an end as the High Lady too to the stage, wearing the brilliant blue and white colors of House Jenwise. Her skirt flowed beautifully as she made her way across the stage, standing in front of a podium that housed a brass microphone. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the nobility!” She called out. “I would ask you to heed my words!”

The hall fell silent save for a few coughs and mumbles that resonated throughout the room until the conversation finally halted completely, allowing the High Lady to speak. She looked down at the podium, referring to a few notes, it seemed, and the continued her speech.

“As most of you are aware, one month past, the city of Hybra fell by unknown means. First, I would address the theory that has been shared amongst the noble houses for the past weeks. It was thought, as it was told to us, that the Mockreet was responsible not only for preventing the winds of the Stormveil from destroying Hybra, but also for staving off the corruption caused by the veil. One month ago all contact was lost with the city of Hybra, and hence, we cannot approach, or can we travel through the Stormveil to trade with Onira or Jybaltin. The theory is that the Mockreet was disabled by unknown means, and as a result, can no longer stave off the corruption. It would then stand to reason that Hybra is corrupted, no doubt.”

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the hall, and for the first time I was starting to get a clear idea of what had happened. The Mockreet allowed passage, but ultimately no one knew what the Mockreet was. Was it an energy source? Was it a god? A person? 

“Noblemen, noblewomen,” The High Lady continued. “Now, more than ever, we must present a united front. Will we be able to contact Hybra? Will we be able to travel the veil once again? This is impossible to say, but I am here to tell you today, that the veil does not inherently cause corruption.”

A murmur passed through the hall, the Lords and Ladies looked at one another, casting confused expressions before returning their attention to the High Lady.

“We have it, on very good authority, that Lord Lavoric of Axock launched a perilous expedition to the Stormveil one year and eight months past, and using advanced shielding technology, he was not only able to approach, but at least two people managed to penetrate the event horizon. 

Two? Two?

“Lady Jenwise,” A noble interrupted. I peeked across, seeing Lord Absalom Sydney Featherstone of Elpos raising his silver-tipped cane. “How is it that you can know this?”

“Because, Lord Featherstone,” She told the silver-bearded man. “We have both of the Stormveil survivors here.”

More murmurs, a few gasps, and then a voice that I recognized all too well.

“Lady Jenwise,” Lord Lavoric, my father said from the other end of the room. “I believe my son has been telling you tall tales, should you send the boy to me, I will-”

“It is not only your son,” The High Lady interrupted him. “We have ample evidence, and your son’s story was easily corroborated with a high level source, perhaps even higher than he.”

“Carola,” My father snapped, using the Lady’s first name. “Where the hell is my son?” 

Just as I felt my heart was about to slide into my stomach, I felt a brief tap on my shoulder and a tug on my hand as Sheena pulled me quietly from the line, ushering me through a door beside the stage. We emerged into a dark hallway, and she pressed me against the wall; I could hear her telling me to calm down, but her voice seemed far way; I realized that I had been breathing heavily, my face cold, sweat ran down my brown. 

“Sheena!” The Lady Jenwise shouted as she passed into the hallway. “Tell me girl, have you been touched in the head?”

“I won’t let you do it,” Sheena turned to her, placing herself between us. “You cannot do this!”

“Are you telling me that the High Lady of Klocby is wrong in her assessment of the situation?”

“I’m telling you that High Lady of Klocby is being the High Bitch!”

“Calm down,” Lord Radon said, stepping into the hallway. “No need for such discourse. Let us speak to Lyra as civilized people, hm? Lyra, you embrace your new identity, but not fully, you still hold loyalties to Axock, this is true?”

“Speak truly!” Sheena squeezed my shoulder. “Your life could depend upon it!”

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“Sheena,” Lady Jenwise said. “I could dismiss you from my service for such a transgression.”

“And I would be glad to go, so as not to be a party to this!” Sheena glared daggers at her. “Lyra, she planned to expose you in front of that entire room, I see her reasoning, but do you really need to be laid so low to become a better person?”

I didn’t know how to answer that so I stayed silent, hugging the wall with my back.

“I am certain that Kayla would make an adequate replacement for you,” Jenwise stood her ground. “Let us be on with this, Lady Myria cannot forestall them for long. 

“I would go with her,” Kayla said, as she too entered the hallway. “This does not seem right to my mind.”

“Oh, fantastic then,” Jenwise rolled her eyes and looked to Radon. “And you too, I suppose are with them?”

“Lyra,” Lord Radon looked at me gently, but spoke with a firmness in his tone. “Your father hates Klocby, why would he allow his son to be sent here for a minor crime? Think on it. No, we haven’t the time - he wanted you killed.”

I froze, that couldn’t be possible, could it? Sheena looked to me with sympathy in her eyes.

“I have no clue to my mind as to what you could have done to anger him so, but he sent you here to die. And the High Lady would have outright murdered you, had she not been so amused and intrigued with your unusual request!”

“Lord Radon!” Lady Jenwise gasped and then glared at Radon. “Do not think me so incompetent! I would have at the very least made it look like an accident!”

“You are disgusting!” Sheena spat. “How could you?”

“How could I?” The High Lady said, chuckling with amusement. “Micah Lavoric committed murder at the behest of his father. He was neither useful nor morally centered at the time of his arrival. He thinks himself trained in swordplay but our most novice guards could probably chop him like a melon in but a few swipes. Political training? He only knows brute force. As it is, he’s lucky he’s as skilled at domestic chores, because as I understand it-”

“She,” Sheena growled.

“I am speaking not of Lyra, I am speaking of Micah Lavoric. Micah Lavoric is an incompetent monster. Lyra is a perfect servant, save for her skewed moral leanings.”

“Which, we can work on!” Lord Radon said. “Now surely you have another way to accomplish your goals tonight without mortifying Lyra in front of the whole of Faidyre!”

“Everyone is against me then,” The High Lady said with a sigh. “You know well that I can make a unilateral decision here, I don’t need-”

“You don’t want to lose your senior most housekeepers,” Kayla smirked. “We will care for Lyra, and we will ensure that she understands the ways of Klocby. As for the rest, well, I assume after today will pose no issue?”

“Indubitably,” The High Lady sighed. “She will be your charge then, Sheena.”

“As she has been, My Lady.”

“Lord Radon, we have much work ahead of us,” The High Lady said. 

“Agreed, High Lady.”

“Call for my scribe, Lord Radon will serve as witness, my sister will oversee the transaction. I will retake the room and make the announcement. May the Goddess have mercy on whatever is left of your soul, Lyra.”

The High Lady turned on her heel and Sheena breathed a sigh of relief as we were left to our own devices in the hallway. 

The three of them stood in silence; Lord Radon coughed and grimaced as he placed his hands behind his back and began to place. Finally, he spoke.

“Kaya, the scribe.”

“Yes, Lord Radon,” She said, scurrying off down the hall. Sheena closed her eyes and breathed in, then let out a large exhale before turning to me, looking into my eyes and pursing her lips. There was something far different about the way she was looking at me but I couldn’t quite work out what it was. Finally, she placed a hand on my arm and guided me past Lord Radon, toward a side door, which she opened, allowing me to hear the sound from the event hall.

“-has chosen to renounce his Noble status and declare loyalty to the nation of Klocby-” The High Lady’s voice floated down from the stage, just before Sheena shut the door, cutting off all sound. She turned to me and placed her hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes and speaking evenly.

“It has been spoken, and it will be done,” She told me, removing her hands and placing one on my back, moving me gently toward Lord Radon as I stared straight ahead with a numbness seizing my entire body. “You are as us, now, Lyra, and we will care for you, but your cooperation is needed.”

With little left to say, I allowed her to guide me down the back hallway, up a set of stairs and eventually to a small office with a desk where Kayla stood with a man I didn’t recognize. He was dressed in simple single-breasted suit with the blue cord of the scribes affixed to his shoulder.

“Shall we proceed?” The man asked, sitting down and indicating a piece of parchment. I hesitated, backing up a little only to feel Lord Radon’s hand on my shoulder.

“Lyra,” He said. “Your father will be raising holy hell in the event hall as we speak; and by the Goddess if we cannot go to him with contract in hand, there will be naught we can do to protect you.”

“What can you do to protect me from him?” I whispered. “He’ll kill me.”

“Sit, Lyra,” Sheena pushed me gently toward the chair and put the quill in my hand as I sat down.

“Micah Harodavich Lavoric,” The scribe said, reading the contract. “It is by your hand that you denounce your title of Nobility and swear fealty to the nation of Klocsby…”

The scribe continued but I began to fade out, his voice becoming more distant as Sheena squeezed my hand and Lady Myria entered the room to stand behind the desk and peer at the contract. 

“…abiding by the laws of Klocby and submitting to the conditions thereof…”

“Sheena…” I whispered frightfully, trembling as the words were spoken. She squeezed my hand again and rubbed my shoulder as my resolve began to break. What was being done here could not be undone, once I signed the contract, my fate would be sealed. 

“And do you witness this declaration, Lady Myria Jenwise of Klocby?” The scribe asked. 

“I do,” Lady Myria affirmed.

“Lord Radon-”

“I do,” Radon said.

The quill was in my hand; it scratched across the page, leaving my signature as I slumped back, disconnected from the situation as my once certain future dissolved in front of my very eyes.

“Then witness my hand and seal, as from this day forth, Lord Micah Harodavich Lavoric may now be known as Lyra…”

“Rossi,” Sheena said. “Lyra Rossi.”

“Lyra Rossi, common citizen of Klocby.”

The scribe left, carrying the contract as I slumped further down into the chair. Sheena crouched down beside me and gently stroked my hair. 

“Your decisions are your own now, Lyra,” She told me. “Not your father’s, not your sister’s. Yours. Yours alone. How you make your life from here will be determined by your will, and your conscience. Come now, Lyra, we have much to do.”

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