For one terrifying second, I didn’t know where I was.
Then the smell of stale straw and damp stone hit me, and memory snapped into place. I was at Prince John’s castle in the servant quarters. I had a mission to complete.
I forced myself to stand still, breathing hard, as Agnes strode down the narrow sleeping hall. Straw ticks lined the corridor wall to wall, each holding a groaning girl who tried valiantly but uselessly to burrow deeper beneath her blankets.
Agnes stopped when she reached me.
I straightened instantly, spine stiff, eyes forward. She studied me for a brief moment.
“Well,” she said briskly, approval flickering across her face. “Glad to seesomeoneis a morning person.” She continued tomarch down the hall, ringing the bell with the same ruthless enthusiasm.
I stared after her in bewilderment. Morning person? I had nearly launched myself through the ceiling and had no idea how anyone could sleep through that earsplitting racket.
The girl beside me stirred, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Morning already?” she yawned, stretching her arms high before emitting a shrill, drawn-out yawn.
Agnes reappeared at the far end of the hall, this time with a long wooden spoon in hand. Any girl still in bed earned a sharp crack of her spoon against their exposed flesh. The sound echoed down the corridor, followed by startled yelps and frantic scrambling. When the girl next to me heard the approaching whistle of wood through the air, she rolled out of bed and hurriedly smoothed her blankets. Then she noticed me still standing beside my bed, frozen.
“Make your bed, quick!” she hissed.
I straightened the lone blanket and plumped the chaff-filled sack that served as my pillow. Agnes passed me without comment, instead rapping the spoon smartly against the foot of a girl two beds down.
The girl beside me nudged my elbow again. “You’re supposed to get dressed before she comes back.”
I followed her gaze. All around us, girls were pulling off their nightgowns and wriggling into their servant uniforms with practiced speed.
I hastened to copy them. The dress I’d been given was bulky, as itchy as poison ivy, and stiff in all the wrong places. I’d never loved dresses, but this one sealed the matter forever. If I survived this mission, I vowed never to wear one again.
I tied the long white apron behind my back and smoothed the wrinkles from the fabric. The flat black shoes were slightlytoo large, so I stuffed my feet into two extra pairs of woolen stockings to keep them from slipping.
The girl beside me jabbed her finger against my arm. “Your hair! Cover your hair before she comes back!”
I glanced around again. Every girl was knotting linen scarves around their heads. Some of the older women bundled their hair into braids with swift, efficient movements, tucking away every loose strand out of sight.
So many layers. At least I would be indistinguishable from anyone else. That was helpful.
I grabbed the white strip of linen from my pile and mimicked their movements but fumbled with the strings with clumsy, untrained hands.
The girl next to me hurried around my bed and fixed it for me, deftly folding and tucking the linen around my hair and whipping the strings together before hurrying back to her spot for inspection.
When Agnes reached us, she passed by without a word.
“Thanks,” I whispered to the girl who had helped me.
She smiled brightly, her mouth wide enough that it seemed perpetually on the brink of laughter. “That’s alright; I wish someone had told me what to do my first few days. I’m Aalis, by the way.”
“Isabella,” I lied easily.
Aalis pulled me toward the long table where our breakfast waited. She chattered cheerfully as we ladled thin, soupy porridge into chipped bowls. At first, I was slightly worried that I wouldn’t have the conversational skills to make friends easily, but Aalis made up for where I was weak. She didn’t seem at all to care that I listened more than talked and barely breathed with how quickly she talked.
“So when Mum told me that I needed to find work, who should be hiring but Prince John’s housekeeper. And whowouldn’t want to work for royalty? You know what I mean, don’t you Izzy? You don’t mind if I call you Izzy, right?”
I shook my head and she went rambling on.
“Anyway, I was hired about a year ago and have been working here ever since. I really do like it, you know. The festivals are fun and I never would have been able to attend them otherwise. You’ll love it; there are so many gowns they let us wear that day and we look just like ladies of the court.”
She talked.
And talked.
