Chapter 8: Chapter 8

“Lyra you’re scrubbin’ it, not resurfacing it! Goddess be good, move on!” Sophia said from overhead. We were in the servant kitchen, just outside the large dining room; our preceptor felt that it had been neglected in the past few days thanks to the summit preparation, so I, and several other girls, had spent the first part of the morning scrubbing the tops, bottoms, and sides of every single table. After that, we’d moved the tables, mopped and waxed the floors, wiped down the walls, and even dusted the rafters using a set of long ladders that I didn’t even know we had. Now I sat on hands and knees, sponge in hand, scrubbing at the kitchen floor like it was my only job. I had no idea how long I’d been doing it, I just knew that the more I scrubbed, the more I was able to forget the world around me. I concentrated on the black slate floor, my sponge wiping back and forth, back and forth, side to side. Scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing; soap suds sloshing as my dress drenched with sweat and my bangs dropped onto my forehead, coming loose from the tie. I wanted to forget about everything, especially the encounter with Lord Radon. He’d seen me, he knew who I was. Who would he tell? Who would they tell? How long before word reached my father? No, I couldn’t think about it; I had to scrub.

“Lyra!” Miah suddenly walked over; from the corner of my eye I could see her black slippers and I could practically sense her hands lying on her hips as she glared down at me. “‘Tis enough, come on!”

“Ellie spilled that oil,” I argued. “We can’t let it stain!”

“Lyra,” Jen shouted from across the kitchen. “‘tis slate! T’would take more than a little red cooking oil to give it stain!”

“Ought be on to something else,” Sophia advised me. “Sheena’s on the warpath today, seein’ as her day off’s been cancelled thanks in full to the Summit.”

I stopped scrubbing and looked up to Sophia. 

“We get days off?”

“Once a fortnite we take a weekend, every week we take one day, so it staggers, y’see, that way there’s plenty of staff no matter whose off,” Miah said. 

“Hold on,” I stopped up, sponge dripping onto the floor. “I haven’t had a day off since I got here!”

“You ought take that up with Sheena then,” Sophia advised me.

“Mayhap not today,” Jen warned. “Saw her rip a talky out of the wall, I did.”

“And whose to fix that?” Sophia laughed.

“One of Elric’s boys, I’d say,” Jen said. “They handle all the maintaining. We just do the cookin’ and cleanin’”

“Laundry too!” Sophia said. 

“And the planting!” Another girl piped up.

“This place would fall apart without us doin’ the women’s work,” Miah said as she snatched the sponge out of my hand and dropped it into the bucket. 

“Why, do my ears hear you poking fun at your First Girl?” Elric’s voice boomed from the doorway. A few of the girls tensed and assumed the position of respect, while others simply rolled their eyes. Jen grinned as Elric walked in, followed by three other boys dressed in their work uniforms rather than the typical black suit jacket and white shirt.

“Elric!” One of the girls scolded. “The kitchen is women’s work! If you keep this on then you may as well be like Lyra and prance about in a dress!”

My ears burned immediately as a few of the girls looked my way and giggled. Elric waved a finger in the air and stepped toward one of the preparation tables.

“But you see,” He said in his thick Elopsian accent. “Lyra is a girl, and I am not.”

I wanted to smile but the weight of judgement was still far too heavy on me. I could feel a few of the girls watching me, and I was more than aware that many were still unsure of me. 

“What shall it be today, Elric?” Jen grinned. 

“Today,” He said. “is a very special day, you will taste a concoction of my very own, the likes of which your tongues have never seen!”

“I think perhaps tongue doesn’t have eyes,” Sophia chided, the other girls laughed. 

“Perhaps that is true,” Elric admitted. “Lyra, I have a request of you!”

My ears perked up and I looked across the station wide eyed as Elric looked at me with the biggest grin plastered across his face. 

“Yes…First…er…I…” 

“First Boy is fine,” He said. “I never minded being called boy, though tis a bit insulting for one my age I suppose. Though if they didn’t tell you, it’s First Butler.”

I didn’t know Elric’s exact age, but I put him somewhere around twenty-five. 

“Yes…first Butler,” I said nervously. 

“But, they all,” Elric waved his hand. “Call me Elric.”

I was so confused. 

“Now,” He said. “You are going to assist me, are you prepared?”

“I…I guess,” I stammered.

“Then, Lyra,” He grinned, reaching below the counter and pulling out a massive round pan. “Make us some dough.”

A few of the girls gasped, but Jen looked back at me almost knowingly. 

“Elric,” One of the girls said. “We never let her do aught with the food! She can look like one of us, but she ain’t had the training! Best to keep her where she belongs!”

“Scrubbing the floor’s where she belongs,” Another girl said; the others murmured in agreement. 

“Lyra?” Elric held the pan out to me, I backed up a little, bumping into the wash basin behind me. “Come now, you can’t hide your talents forever!”

“What talents?” One girl laughed. “Have you seen her?”

“Lyra,” Elric said. “Consider this an order, from your First Boy.”

“You mean First Butler,” I suggested, grinning slightly. He laughed.

“What is it I hear you all whispering behind her back?” Elric asked, looking around the room. “That she cannot learn? that she is clumsy? Come now, I know one of you said it,” He looked at one girl in particular who rolled her eyes. “Come, Lyra.”

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, reaching a timid hand out to take the pan. Once it was in my hand, he gestured toward the glass cabinet where the majority of the ingredients were kept. As I walked toward it, he began to speak again.

“Now, as Lyra makes us a nice dough, I shall show you the proper way to season these ingredients. I shall need yark’s breast, a length of sausage, goat’s cheese…”

He continued a long list of ingredients as I carefully took the proper ingredients for the dough from the cabinet. My hands shook and my breathing elevated; why was I so afraid? Two weeks ago I would have considered these people to be beneath me but now I feared them in so many ways. 

“Let it rest and add the flour before the salt,” I heard my sister’s voice in my head as I recalled a memory from years back. “You add the salt too soon, then the yeast dies. Just like a full third of father’s servants each year.”

Sugar, warm water, salt, the ingredients danced about in my mind as my hands worked automatically, the dough formed, and when I’d finished, I had a perfectly good lump of it sitting in the metal pan that Elric had handed me. The other boys were busy chopping ingredients and stirring on the stove. The girls gaped at me, apart from Jen who smiled and nodded.

“How is that possible?” One of the girls demanded.

“You see,” Elric said, taking the pan from me. “I am not the only male who has done women’s work!”

“Lyra,” Kayla said, standing in the door of the kitchen. “Come, now.”

I looked to Elric who shrugged, and then I followed Kayla into the dining room. We walked toward the door at a steady pace.

“I am sorry,” She said. “Elric performs outright miracles in the kitchen, I shall arrange for you to have a plate later.”

You are reading story The Mockreet at novel35.com

“Where are we going?” I asked; if I’d had an appetite before, it was certainly gone now. 

“The High Lady has requested your presence,” She said matter of factly. I gulped and slowed my pace, but then quickened it to match Kayla’s.

“Did…she say why?” I asked, but Kayla didn’t answer. “Kayla?”

“Lyra,” She looked over at me. “I am a First Preceptor. How would you address Sheena?”

“Yes…First Preceptor,” We continued to walk, down the hallway, passing through the octagon and ducking into a side passage that went at a steady downward incline until we reached the main concourse on the second floor. 

“Shortcut,” Kayla said, turning right and pushing her way through a swinging door. A blast of warm air slammed into me as we entered a room filled with machinery. Brass silos and furnaces, along with what appeared to be thousands of brass, steel, and lead conduits leading from them, across the room, and in every direction. The sudden clanging and the hiss of steam was almost too much to bear, and hearing Kayla’s voice over them was a chore. “Watch your head, duck here, care not to hurt yourself.”

I ducked down as far as I could, nearly cramping even as Kayla seemed to do it naturally as we emerged from the other end of a brief tunnel formed by overhead pipes and machinery. 

“Kayla! What are you doing here?” A faint male voice shouted over the roar of the machinery. I looked in the direction and saw a man dressed in dark brown, heavily stained coveralls holding a wrench. It was Parsifal, the man I had delivered the package to the other day. He was an older man, perhaps in his thirties sporting a black mustache and a head of curly hair. He eyed Kayla curiously. “This area, ‘tis restricted, don’t you know?”

“‘Tis also the fastest way back to the palace!” Kayla informed him, loudly. “The High Lady requests her presence!”

“The High Lady wouldn’t take kindly much to her scaldin’ her face on a pipe, or do you think? Word out is she’s clumsy as all!”

“‘Tis true enough!” Kayla shouted. “But you can see her there whole an’ whole if but a bit frightened!”

“‘Tis true,” He nodded. “Mind you’re careful on the way out!”

We left Parsifal behind and existed the building, walking past the ParDar field and eventually ended up on the concourse to the palace. 

“The last time you passed into the High Lady’s chambers you were on equal ground with her, by and by,” Kayla told me, keeping up her brisk pace. “Now you’ll pay close mind to me. You step foot in there, you step forward, six paces, you curtsey, and then you say ‘Greetings High Lady, I am present as requested’, and then you’ll hold that curtsey ‘till such time as tells you to rise. Do this wrong, or not at all, and Sheena’s like to flog you. And I’m like to watch, now say it back.”

I repeated it back to her and she nodded with approval as we rounded a corner.

“And you bear in mind, as well as you know anyway, she’s the High Lady through and through but you’re addressing a Duchess. Show the proper respect and expect none in return.”

“Yes, First Preceptor,” I said as we reached the door to the High Lady’s office. I took a deep breath as she placed her hand on the door level and turned it. The last time I’d stood outside this door, waiting to see the High Lady Jenwise, I’d made a decision. A lump had formed in my throat, and I’d felt an immense pressure building in my chest. My heart beat heavily, and my apprehension grew. I convinced myself to back out and then convinced myself to proceed dozens of times in a matter of minutes and somehow I had managed to walk into her chambers resolved. Today was a different matter; it had been a mere two weeks, but I was no longer the person that had come here. I still clung to the shreds of my former identity, but who was I now? Was I Micah? Was I Lyra? Was I a combination of the two? These thoughts and more hurtled through my conciousness as I passed through the doors in Kayla’s tow. The High Lady Jenwise stood in front of her desk, Sheena at her side. She looked different. There was something much more regal about her; she was almost radiant. I took the six steps and then performed the curtsy, careful lot to stumble though my body trembled.

“Greetings, High Lady,” My voice cracked. “I am p…I…I am present as requested.”

“Rise, Lyra,” She said quickly, and I was relieved that I did not have to hold the curtsey. “Come forward. Kayla, you may return to your duties.”

“Yes High Lady,” Kayla said, turning to leave.

I stepped forward cautiously and nearly tore out of my skin when I noticed Lord Radon in the shadows, leaned on a pillar with leg bent, foot against it and his arms crossed. 

“Lord Radon!” I gasped. “I’m sorry I did not see-”

“You may dispense with the pleasantries, Lyra,” He said, pushing away from the pillar and stepping forward. “and it’s High Lord. I am a Duke, after all.”

“Yes High Lord,” I said apologetically. He shook his head as if in disbelief of the situation.

“Now then, Lyra,” High Lady Jenwise said. “take tea with us.”

The High Lady gestured to a round pedestal table with intricate leg carvings standing in the dim light of an overhead lamp. The table was set with a silver platter upon which there were four silver teacups and a silver kettle. Apart from the tea, there were slices of toasted bread, miniature sandwiches, dipping sauces, sugar cubes, kishtrate cubes, and salt extract. I froze in place, which prompted Sheena to place her hand on my back and guide me to the table. It was embarrassing; we were simply taking tea, something I’d done perhaps a million times. Why was I freezing up? Why the hesitation? What was wrong with me?

Lord Radon sat on the opposite end while Sheena and the High Lady sat on either side of me. 

“How do you take your tea, Lyra?” The High Lady asked me. 

“I…plain is fine, High Lady,” I said softly, taking care not to speak too loudly.

“I doubt that,” The High Lady smiled. “Your apprehension is unwarranted, but your respect is appreciated.”

“She takes her tea with kishtrate, and salt,” Lord Radon said helpfully. He wasn’t wrong. 

“I-” I began to interject, but stopped short of saying anything.

“Yes, Lyra?” Sheena looked at me encouragingly.

“I think…I…I think I will take it with sugar,” I said, opting for a more feminine custom. The High Lady smiled and Sheena nodded as she poured the cup for me and passed the bowl of sugar cubes.

“To business then,” The Highly Lady said as Sheena passed me a small plate with a sandwich. “Sheena reports that you have been doing very well, and have been a valuable addition to the household, if but a bit clumsy.”

“Thank you High Lady,” I timidly sipped the tea and set the cup down as Lord Radon practically swallowed a sandwich whole.

“How have you found your role here? Is it what you expected?”

“Not exactly, High Lady,” I admitted. “It has been…difficult but…”

“And do you have regrets?” She asked me. “Have you had second thoughts about your decision?”

“No, High Lady,” I lied.

“The truth, please,” She sipped her tea and Sheena raised an eyebrow at me.

“Sometimes, High Lady,” I admitted. “but this feels right.”

“It seems to suit you,” The High Lady nodded. “and if you have felt challenged, it is because Sheena has performed her duty admirably. You made a choice, an unusual one at that, well, downright unheard of if we’re going to get into it, and it has been Sheena’s charge to push you to the very limits of that choice, to give you a better understanding of the path you had chosen.”

“Yes, High Lady,” I said. “Thank you High Lady.”

“You have not reached the extremity of it yet, but you will, and you will know when the day has come, I promise you that. Which, of course, brings us to the matter at hand. Lord Radon?”

“Indeed,” Lord Radon gulped down a piece of sandwich, washing it down with hot tea before speaking to me. “You know well of your father and his tendencies, Lyra. And so you know that we must harbor every strategic advantage against him in order to maintain the tense peace that we’ve held the the past thirty years. Now, with that on the table, I must put forth a very blunt statement. You, Lyra, know what the Stormveil is.” 

“My Lord?” I tensed, looking at him cautiously. His expression was stoic, unwavering. He knew.

“To find you here, Lyra, in this place, in your condition, that is a stroke of luck and it is one that I will not turn my back upon. I know of your father’s expedition two years ago, and though we were, and are still allies, he would never share the results. I know, however, that you were there, Lyra. I wish to know what it is you saw that day.”

There was no denying it, and here, at this table, in this room, there was no way to avoid what was coming. 

“Lyra, I have afforded you many opportunities for choices in your training,” Sheena said to me, suddenly placing her hand on mine. “but in this you are not given a choice. You will speak, and you will speak true.”

“What, Lyra, did you see inside the Stormveil?”

You can find story with these keywords: The Mockreet, Read The Mockreet, The Mockreet novel, The Mockreet book, The Mockreet story, The Mockreet full, The Mockreet Latest Chapter