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The knocker on the large mahogany manor doors was enormous. Shaped curiously like a goblin head, with a ring in its mouth. I fully expected it to open its eyes and speak to me. Ask me of my purpose.
Intimidating.
I reached for it, lifting the ring, and rapping twice.
A moment later the door swung open, “Yes?”
I looked up at the man who opened the door, his pristine uniform of black and white. His waist coat tailored, at his jacket fitted, slacks pressed. His shoes polished and his hair slicked back, his eyes calculating as he stared down at me.
“Hello.” My voice had come out with the slightest squeak. Clearing my throat I tried again, “Hello, I’m here to see Lady Conwell, I am to-”
The butler stepped aside, so I could pass the threshold. His face of indifference made me uneasy but as I entered the foyer my heart stopped in my chest. I’d never seen the inside of Conwell Manor. Everyone knew the manor; it was hard not to miss. The exterior was constructed of white limestone block. Enormous stone columns held up a Parthenon roof and huge glass windows of wrought iron and glass graced the front of the building. The two-story manor has dominated the center of Rothnia for as long as the village has existed.
Forever large and imposing.
While Rothnian’s were familiar with the outside, it was inside that had a hold on my wonder. True to its outer exterior, the inside was just as grand. The foyer was enormous. The grand staircase before me was made of rich woods and gilded metal. The dark red carpet plush over the stair treads, cushioning one's footsteps. The black marble floors gleamed in the sunlight that poured through the windows, one on each side of the doors. High above a crystal chandelier hung, the tiny crystals sparkling, sending an array of rainbows upon the walls. Not a speck of dust. Nor object out of place.
“This way please, Miss Harlowe.” the butler said irritably. Leading me down a corridor to the right after closing the door behind me.
“Lady Conwell is meeting you in her sitting room.”
“Thank you.” I replied as he opened another large door, white with gold gilding.
“She will be with you momentarily.”
I offered him a slight nod and a small smile in gratitude as he closed the door behind me. The sitting room I stood in took my breath away almost instantly. If the foyer was magnificent, this room was opulent. White marble floors. More white wood panels, gold gild trim, wall sconces made of crystal and bright gold. Another large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling above me. The golden drapes shining in the morning sun that was coming through. The fireplace to my right was large- done in marble and white stained oak.
The whole room was designed to impress.
It had been the wall of windows across the room that caught my attention. Large, floor to ceiling that looked out onto a large labyrinth of a garden. Spring flowers in almost full bloom. Birds fluttering about the trees, back and forth between them and the large birdbath fountain in the center.
Tranquility.
Familiarity.
That’s what the garden had invoked in me. A semblance of peace and longing. I yearned to wander the paths, the hedges taller than I, wanting to get lost in the labyrinth. The beauty of it, the calm peaceful air that radiated off the space. The birds chatter as they fluttered, the sun’s warmth on my skin. The laughter of a woman, a babe in her arms as she called to me. The image shattered almost instantly. Bringing me back to the present, I had closed my eyes. The image, almost like a memory, one that was not mine.
Still reeling from the false memory, I had made my way to the settee that sat in the middle of the room, two chairs opposite it. I was unsure if I should even sit, fear of ruining it was coursing through me. Unease and discomfort at the woman in white haunting me in my head.
The large door opened, and Lady Conwell entered as I resigned myself, not taking the chance. Her dark auburn hair was neatly coiffed on top of her head. Her golden eyes glittered with life. She had a natural grace, an elegant beauty to her. She wore a satin confection of pale green, her bustle unruffled and her skirts free from wrinkles. The bodice was nicely fitted and accentuated her full bosom. A string of pearls around her neck matched the pearls that dripped from her ears.
She was the vision of true beauty, and it made me discontented. While she had the pale skin of a woman who never had to work hard in her life, I was tanned from hours outside. Drastic contrast to the social system of Rothnia. Here was this woman, this gorgeous woman in her satin dress- with bustles so large it was a wonder she would even be able to sit properly, had asked me here to meet with her, reasoning unknown.
And I, Serra Harlowe, wore an old brown dress that had been repaired one too many times. My once white apron stained. The sleeves of my chemise peeking out, showing signs of wear, long ago needing to be replaced. My basic canvas shoes worn and dirty. All the nicest pieces I owned. Here I stood, in a room of such elegance, in the presence of a higher Noblewoman that it didn’t feel right.
None of this made any sense.
“Please, sit.” Her voice was sweet- too sweet, as she sat in one of the chairs.
But I did as she asked and sat, the settee cushion sinking slightly under my weight. The fabric felt luxurious, soft on my skin. The blush pink velvet and satin pillows felt like sitting on a cloud.
“Well Miss Harlowe. I am sure you are curious as to why I summoned you here.” She beamed.
I gave her a slight nod of my head. “Yes ma’am.”
“Well, every year I send out invites for my spring ball. And every year I have one extra.”
A housemaid entered carrying a tray, setting it on the low table between us before departing with a curtsy. A delicately painted porcelain teapot and two teacups with saucers, a tower of sweet desserts and confections sat before me.
