“All you need is a uniform!” She opened another cabinet at the end of the row revealing a pile of folded blue dresses and aprons. “Pick whatever sizes you think will fit best. There’s an outhouse around back you can get changed in. Once you’re done, come meet me by the fire and we’ll get you started at a basin.” She flashed one more grin, then scurried off toward the fireplace.
I took a deep breath, my nose still slightly stinging from the strong odors. Could I really do this? Could I really handle working here for the next two weeks? Or would I be killed before I even made it that far? My stomach lurched at the thought. I remembered what had brought me here in the first place. The knight from Drancos… If I shut my eyes, I could still make out the silver knight and his matching dagger perfectly. I was so foolish to have trusted him. I should have asked more questions or requested more guards, or even asked for his name. If I had put even a moment’s thought into the situation, I may not be standing in a musty laundry mill fearing for my life.
What would the kingdom of Drancos gain from killing me, anyway? I pondered the question as I thumbed through the stacks of dresses. I held up one that was about my size and trotted outside toward the outhouse. I found the offending building and stepped inside to begin swapping clothes. I held my nose tightly with one hand as I struggled to pull on my new dress with the other. Oh, how I missed my private washroom. I dug my fingers through my tangled hair and retrieved all the pins that had been left behind from yesterday’s setting aside the embellished ones. With three pins held in my mouth I did my best at wrapping my abused hair into a tight bun like the other girls wore, securing it the best I could. Once dressed, I carefully folded the green velvet dress and wrapped my stained cloak around it so it wouldn’t be seen as I carried it. The jewels and embellished pins were safely tucked away inside the cloak pocket, leaving behind only my expensive leather boots as a clue to my identity. I considered hiding them, but then I would have to go around in nothing but my stockings— and the winter was far too cold for that. If anyone asked about them, I would just have to claim they were a gift from my previous employer. That sounded reasonable, right?
I hurried out of the putrid structure and crunched across the snow to the back entrance of the mill. Once inside, I stored my belongings into my newly acquired locker and sought after Hazel. She was right where said she would be, prodding at the dwindling fire with an iron poker. She saw me approach and stood up straight, smiling as broadly as ever.
“You look perfect!” she said delightedly. “Now, let’s get to work!”
chapter five
I never realized how much I underappreciated my beautiful hands until now. We spent what seemed like endless hours elbows deep in murky wash basins, scrubbing unfathomable amounts of grimy fabric. My once soft, perfect hands were now red from the hot water and took on a wrinkled, leathery texture. There had been shirts, socks, dresses, petticoats, trousers, vests, bloomers, assorted linens, and even a large mass of soldier uniforms. It was official that I never wanted to go shopping again. I had seen enough clothes to know that they all blurred together at some point. We hadn’t made much of a dent in the overall work mountain before Daniela announced it was time to begin the folding process. Apparently, each day concluded with all the women gathering around folding tables to sort the clothes into stacks separated by ownership. This was also a great time for everyone to catch up on the latest gossip.
I stretched out a uniform jacket and awkwardly attempted to create a decent fold. Unfortunately, all I was able to accomplish was a wrinkled lump. I sighed in frustration as Delilah reached over to show me the proper technique.
“Mr. Dwarfer wasn’t joking about you never having worked in a mill before!” She giggled teasingly at me. Then she kindly modeled a suitable fold and handed the uniform back to me. “Don’t worry, Annie. We all needed a little practice at first. Why, take me for example. I was completely clueless when I first started working here. I accidently left a red tunic in the bottom of a wash basin on my first day. It wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t dumped an entire load of white stockings in after it.” Delilah blushed from embarrassment and managed a small laugh at her own expense. This sparked a small round of laughter around the tables as the other girls reminisced over the occasion.
“Honestly, Delilah,” Daniela added while giving the tall brunette an amused glare, “you couldn’t have been luckier that the stockings belonged to Lady Aurelia. She turned out to be quite fond of the pink color.” The other girls giggled in agreement at the older woman’s comment. I tilted my head in curiosity at the mention of a new name, and Hazel picked up on it immediately.
“Lady Aurelia Lockly is the daughter of the only noble family around these parts!” Hazel’s voice bubbled with giddiness as she spoke, but then lowered to a whisper as she leaned over to gossip further. “Her parents own a few furniture shops around the capital so they aren’t around often. Lady Aurelia grows bored at their estate, so she’ll often drop off her laundry herself when her family isn’t around to know.”
“I cannot imagine being bored enough to desire the work of a servant,” I blurted the words out before thinking them through. What had I just let myself say? Mentally cursing myself, I leaned over my work, pretending not to notice the seven pairs of eyes now directed at me. Oh dear, they had all heard me. Annie was working the same chores as a servant, so what would she know about the boredom of the nobility? My clumsy outburst hushed the room until a coarse voice broke the silence.
“I could imagine it.”
The words startled me. I gazed up from my work to see which girl the voice belonged to and was astonished to see it was Glenda who had spoken.
“Luxury ain’t everything, missy.” Her words were cold and filled with personal sensitivity. “Working hard comes with its own set of fulfillments that I believe every lady in Isalla should be educated in.” Her eyes pierced through me and I shrunk down instinctively. It was almost as if her gaze cut straight through Annie, glaring at Arabella.
“Pardon my outburst, madam,” I apologized sheepishly. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had commanded my respect so quickly. “I simply found it hard to believe that a lady of good standing would be willing to risk her reputation in such ways.” I tried to explain my thoughts, but Glenda’s stare only grew more judgmental as I spoke.
“Reputation comes from everywhere. Lady Aurelia holds great respect from the people of this village, so what’s it matter if those prissy folks down at the capital judge her for it. I think she’s already been making friends in the right places. The girl has a good head on her shoulders in a sea of air-brained imbeciles.” Glenda’s voice echoed through the mill. The other girls had long since grown silent after she started speaking— even Hazel had focused in on her folding. I let Glenda’s words wash over me for a moment. I had always been raised on the notion that reputation was power, and those with the most power were the ones suited to rule others. What was the benefit in gaining a reputation with people who held no power? I rolled the question over in my mind before deciding it couldn’t be answered by only me.
“Do you truly believe she gains more from those who have nothing to give back to her?” I asked earnestly. My voice was soft, but it carried across the tables to Glenda. All the other girls froze in response to my bold curiosity, but Glenda merely sighed.
“Child…” She let the word out slowly, her voice gentler than it had been earlier. “Nobody in this world has truly nothing to give. The difference between those at the capital and those in this room is that we ain’t seeking anything in return. We only want to look out for those we know will look out for us.” Her gaze finally left mine and she directed her attention back at the tables. Her words held a strength that still lingered in the room, and I felt it picking at my brain.
She wasn’t wrong. The people I’d been raised around had always praised my every breath, but they were chasing something in return. Men wanted to woo me for the chance at marrying into the crown, and women wanted to name-drop the princess of Isalla as a personal friend. Even my father had used my beauty as a way to leverage himself above the rest. I had always assumed those were acts of love and affection, yet I was now recognizing that I may have only been a trophy for the citizens to etch their name on. The thoughts intruded relentlessly, disregarding my attempts to push them away. No, my father loved me; he simply took pride in everything that I was, everything that I am. I gazed down at my worn hands. The girls quickly resumed friendly conversation after Glenda and I had concluded out verbal duel, but I remained silent with my heart too anxious to rejoin the chatter. Within the next hour, we had created eight tidy stacks of clothing, mine clearly being the least visually appealing of the group. We bagged the clothes and labeled them with names and addresses of the different businesses and families they belonged to. We then dragged the bags outside to a half-rotted shed that housed a large cart intended for hauling deliveries. Each girl took a turn loading their filled bag onto the cart, with me adding mine lastly on the top.
“Excellent work today, ladies,” Daniela praised as we stepped back inside into the warmth. “I’ll get a pot of tea boiling. Bethanne and Sylvia, you two start on supper. The rest of you can tidy up around the place until the food is done.” The group split off and I trotted behind Hazel, following her lead as she dumped the wash basins down a grated drain on the floor. I hadn’t realized how terribly hungry I was until the scent of a simmering stew lingered throughout the building. My mouth began to water as I watched Sylvia drop sliced potatoes into a boiling pot of water. It had been a full day since I had last eaten tea biscuits in the parlor back home, and now my body was threatening to collapse in hunger as the smells alerted my senses. We had just begun to mop the floors when Daniela called over that the tea was ready. Bethanne tended to all the girls, serving them a steaming mug with a small slice of stale bread. I accepted it graciously and gulped them both down in the most unladylike manner I had ever displayed. The bread was tough and the tea was bitter, but they tasted delicious after such an exhausting day. The stew was finished soon after, and each girl lined up by the fire with a bowl in hand. Sylvia spooned generous portions into each lady’s bowl, accepting six sweet, “Thank you,” comments. I held up my bowl to be filled and watched as the piping hot slurry cascaded into my wooden bowl. I muttered a thank you, then found a seat on the floor between Hazel and Susan.
The stew looked severely unappealing. It was brown and lumpy, with chunks of unidentified meat floating amongst chopped carrots and potatoes. I considered letting the slice of bread be my only dinner for the night, but my stomach still growled aggressively and the smell was tantalizing enough. I took a bite and was pleasantly surprised. It was bland and the meat was tough, but it tasted far better than it looked, so I decided to clear my bowl. After everyone had filled their bellies and drank through the kettle of tea, Glenda and Daniela collected their belongings from their lockers and bid us farewell for the night. We all shouted polite farewells as they made their way out the door, then continued to sit and chat about meaningless nothings until the sun began to set through the cracks in the shutters.
“We better get ready for bed,” Hazel yawned dramatically toward me. “You and I are running the deliveries first thing in the morning, so we’ll need to be up at dawn!”
I nodded my understanding, eager to crawl into a warm bed until I remembered what Hazel had informed me about the sleeping arrangements. We walked back to the front of the mill where the dwindled piles of laundry lay scattered. My stomached lurched at the idea of sleeping amongst someone else’s sullied attire. I considered sprawling out on the stone floor instead, but it was far less appealing. Puddles of stagnant water remained around the ground, leaving no large enough dry patch for a body to lie. I watched with disgust as one by one, the girls snuggled up into a mass of the foul fabric. Most of them at least had their own blanket which they had retrieved from their lockers, making the setup look slightly less horrid, but not by much. I looked around the room in search of any kind of cover I could use to keep warm but fell short of locating anything useful.
“Hazel?” I caught the girl’s attention as she made her way to her locker. “Do you know where I can find a spare blanket? I could use my cloak, but it is probably still damp from being out in the snow.” I shrugged wistfully and she flashed me a smile.
“Of course, you can have one of mine!” She reached into her locker and handed me a brown fleece with a large rip down the side. “Sorry it’s not in the best shape, but it’s the only extra I’ve got. You can keep it if you’d like!” Her genuine hospitality warmed me from the inside. Is this what Glenda was talking about?
“I couldn’t possible just take it. Are you certain you won’t be in need of it? The winters have grown terribly cold lately.” I stretched the blanket back out to her, intending for her to take it back. I don’t think I would be able to sleep if I caused this sweet girl to go cold at night.
“Nah, I’ll be fine, I’ve got this!” She tugged a large patchwork quilt out of the bottom of the cabinet, grunting from the effort it took. “My mother made it for me when I took this job. She lives a few towns over with the rest of my family. It’s plenty warm for this time of year.” She held up the heavy material with a smile, almost falling over from the weight of the quilt.
“In that case, thank you.” I returned her joyful expression. “I do hope I can repay you in the future.”
She gave me a playful push. “Yeah right. I wouldn’t expect as much as a copper coin for such an old blanket. Just knowing that it is being put to good use is payment enough.” She giggled at the thought, then wadded the quilt fully up in her arms and walked back toward the beds of laundry. I brushed the old brown fleece with my thumb, feeling the worn fabric under my touch. It was no satin duvet, but it would keep me warm. Undoing my now sloppy bun, I placed the pins inside the pocket of my apron before folding it up to put it away for the night. I made my way back to the other girls and found Hazel already cuddled up in her quilt, not even the least bit unsettled by her musty choice of bed. Admitting defeat, I took a deep breath and sat on the pile adjacent from her. I tried not to think too hard about it, but it was so lumpy and uneven, I couldn’t pretend it was anything other than what it was. Fortunately, I couldn’t sense any strong odors coming off my chosen spot as the scent of laundry solution still permeated the air as the dominating aroma. Tucking the brown fleece around my legs, I cautiously leaned back against the clothes, surprised at the level of comfort it provided aside from the lumps. I shifted around for a bit before finding a position that cradled me best, then shut my eyes to rest.