Kastali Dun

Claire greedily drank up Desaree and Saffra's company during breakfast in her quarters four days after their trip to the market. They had been nearly inseparable ever since. The challenge was thinking up excuses to keep Desaree from her duties. Fortunately, Tess was lenient where Desaree was concerned, and Desaree was largely influenceable.

That morning, Lord Verath was a popular topic. It was obvious to both Claire and Saffra that something was going on between Lord Verath and Desaree, though Desaree refused to admit it. "We are merely good friends," she claimed.

Claire made eye contact with Saffra and they both snorted. Then to Desaree she said, "Deny it all you want. Anyone with two eyes can see that he cares about you. Besides, he made that pretty clear in the market."

Desaree blushed. "I have already said—I doubt he meant it like that. You misinterpreted his words."

Perhaps she was afraid to entertain the idea that Lord Verath cared for her as more than a friend. It wouldn't have been the first time she expressed that kind of fear. Claire had heard Desaree's reservations before. When Desaree held her silence, Claire was forced to say, "Well, I imagine when you came to the keep, you never expected a great lord like Verath to single you out."

At this, Desaree afforded them a nervous laugh. "You're right. I had very different expectations when I began working in the keep. I had different hopes—different aspirations. I quickly learned to hope for nothing."

"Des!" Saffra cried, looking appalled. She had started calling Desaree by her nickname too. "What do you mean? You always seem so happy. Why didn't you come to me?"

"I..." Desaree shrank down in her chair.

Claire did not want her to feel ashamed, so she quickly salvaged the situation: "What sort of aspirations did you have, Desaree?"

Desaree began chewing on the skin of her lower lip before she spoke, "When I came here, I wanted to be a handmaiden."

"A—a handmaiden? Seriously?" It wasn't the answer Claire was expecting—far from it.

"Serving as a handmaiden is a prestigious job," Saffra said, coming to Desaree's defense. "In Kastali Dun, people in the middle class train their daughters for such."

"Oh..." Claire had not realized this. She had no handmaiden and was unfamiliar with such things. "I guess I had no idea."

"It was my mother's wish before it was my own," Desaree said.

"But I don't understand." Claire looked from Desaree to Saffra. "Wouldn't those of the middle class be better off working rather than serving? Wouldn't they rather have careers of their own? Look at Madame Rosanne."

"Madame Rosanne was trained as a Mage," Saffra said. "Besides, being a handmaiden is a job of its own, no different from any other, merely more prestigious. Look at Jocelyn. She has done quite well for herself."

Jocelyn was Saffra's handmaiden. Claire didn't know her well, and they had rarely spoken. Saffra was so independent that Jocelyn rarely accompanied her.

"Did Jocelyn aspire to be a handmaiden when she was younger?" Claire asked.

"I do not think Jocelyn could afford to entertain the idea—not in the social sphere she had originally occupied."

"What do you mean?"

"I rescued her from the Pauper's District. She was too poor to consider becoming a handmaiden."

Claire knew enough about the Pauper's District to know that it was where most of the lowest laborers and their families lived. The majority were employed at the docks. But there were a number of others living in the Pauper's District too: fishmongers, midwives, housekeepers for the middle class, artists, chimney sweeps, peddlers, thieves, tavern wenches, prostitutes....

Saffra continued to speak, "I was walking through the market one day and I saw Jocelyn selling Parlington Pears from a basket. They aren't available but once a year, so I caught up to her. She was dressed in rags, but I admired the way she had done her hair. Her hair—it was just like mine, you see. Having been so young, I struggled to do my own. I certainly could not do the things to my hair that my mother had done for me. I knew immediately that this girl would do well living with me in the keep. She was several years older, but that did not matter."

"Wow..." Claire fell silent for a moment before adding, "I never realized you had rescued her from poverty. She certainly doesn't look the part. All the times I have seen her, she always looks well-dressed and carries herself as if she were highborn."

"She has adapted, I think." Saffra looked proud.

This new information left questions, which created more questions. How might one acquire a handmaiden? Did they need to be a certain age? Was a woman permitted to choose her own handmaiden, or was she assigned one? Could anyone have a handmaiden? Was it a matter of wealth, status, or both? As she began asking these—quite rapidly because of her excitement—her friends were obliged to explain. She often fired off new questions before they finished answering old ones.

All in all, she learned that any woman who could afford a handmaiden could hire one. Most often they served those of elevated social status, but only because those were the women who could usually afford them. A handmaiden did not necessarily need to be a certain age, but those with more experience, and those who came with higher recommendations, were always more expensive. Handmaidens did not usually go through any formal training, nor did they always serve the same woman for life. They were permitted to move up and down the social ladder if they wanted, based on their skills. If they decided to increase their price based on their growing experience, it sometimes became difficult for their mistresses to increase their salaries. In those cases, they sought jobs higher on the nobility ladder. More often than not, however, they stuck with a lady for a long time.

"Apparently," said Desaree, "King Talon's mother had three ladies-in-waiting and three handmaidens—all of whom stuck with her for the duration of their service. It was well-known that she retired each aide at the age of forty and did not allow them to mother children until that time. When they retired, she offered them a large sum—and whatever else they desired—to happily carry out the rest of their lives. It must have been hard to see them age so quickly, you know, considering she lived nearly seven hundred years before her untimely death. But anyway, she always kept six—no more no less."

"Six?" Claire showed obvious disbelief. "How could any one woman need so much assistance? Don't handmaidens just help a person dress? I've managed fine by myself..."

"Ha!" Desaree giggled and said, "Let me remedy your lack of knowledge on this matter too: The handmaiden's primary role is to serve her mistress, but generally, she is more of a companion. She does a wide range of tasks. Yes, she helps her mistress dress, but she also draws her baths, unless the woman is lucky enough to live in the keep where our baths are always full. She performs light housekeeping, manages her mistress's correspondences, writing letters on her behalf, and attends court, or any other function with her mistress, should her mistress want company. Furthermore, she is expected to know art, proper etiquette, music, wardrobe care, and much more. Handmaidens are treated with dignity and paid well, especially in Kastali Dun."

This was most unexpected! The job of a handmaiden sounded more to her like a personal assistant or a life-long friend. Moreover, if handmaidens were such a normal way of life, why didn't she have one of her own? She was royal, and Queen Ahlessa had had six! Had the king failed to consider it? In that moment, a sudden idea came to mind. Her heart fluttered with excitement. She knew exactly what was to be done. First, she needed one simple answer. She needed to know whether or not Desaree was still interested in becoming a handmaiden. "Des, why didn't you become a handmaiden—if that is what you always wanted?"

"Caterina. That's why. Like everything else, Caterina stole my dream from me."

"What do you mean?" Claire tilted her head to the side.

"She went to every lady of nobility and soiled my name. She ruined my chances of getting chosen. She told them that I was a thief, that I was disrespectful, and that I would dishonor any woman who might choose me."

Claire's jaw dropped. Caterina's treachery went further and deeper than she realized.

"What Desaree says is true," Saffra said. "I heard the rumors myself, but I never believed them. I always knew that Desaree was honorable."

"That's a horrid thing for Caterina to do!" Claire felt the heat of anger rising to her surface. "Desaree would never do any of those things."

Desaree's posture sagged. "Tell that to the women of the court." Her words were bitter.

Claire pushed the subject a little more. "If you could—if Caterina had never ruined your name—would you still want to be a handmaiden?"

"With all my heart," Desaree said, setting her fork down. "Now, I am afraid I must return to my other duties." There was obvious sadness in her voice—a tone that Claire was not used to hearing from her cheery friend. It left her heart aching. She wanted so badly to tell Desaree what she had planned, but she was afraid to get her hopes up. At any rate, she was determined to right Caterina's wrongs and take the wicked witch down in the process.

"Until next time, I suppose..." Desaree stood and pushed her chair in.

Claire and Saffra gave her each a big hug.

"I will make this right. I promise," Claire whispered as she hugged her. Desaree tightened her hold after hearing this.

Saffra also had business to attend to, so Claire quickly found herself alone. Finishing her morning routine, she hurried from her room. She was on a mission. Grand Mage Marcel hated lateness, but as long as she had a good reason, she might get away with it. What better excuse than meeting with the king?

"Lady Claire." The guards outside King Talon's tower greeted her. "His Majesty is occupied with an important meeting. Best you return later."

"I am sure every meeting with the king is considered important." There was only one way to deal with these guards. She was nearly as important as the king now, wasn't she? So, she donned an air of haughtiness like all the other women around the keep. The only thing she didn't do was throw her nose in the air. "His Majesty's meeting is of no consequence to me."

Her bold declaration left the guards with questioning looks. They must have wondered if they had missed something.

She held back a smile. "No need to worry, kind sirs, I will see myself in." She reached for the doorknob. One of the men stepped forward, blocking her passage. She frowned. "If you do not move, sir, the king will hear of it. Please, step aside."

This time, the guards looked uncertain.

"I would be happy to tell King Talon of the difficulties you have imposed upon me. I daresay he will not be happy."

She was learning to talk like the people of Dragonwall—old fashioned and resolute. She forced her face to remain impassive. Inside she was grinning wickedly. It felt like she was beating the guards at their own game. The guard blocking her way stood still, contemplating his next move. After a moment he relented and stepped to the side.

"Well done," she said, giving the man a brief nod. She let herself in and closed the door behind her.

Once in the king's entry chamber, she exhaled and relaxed a little. This was her second time entering King Talon's tower. The first was when she had learned about Cyrus's gift. She looked around curiously.

As soon as she heard voices, she moved over to a closed door on her right. Those inside were eagerly discussing something. She put her ear against the wood to eavesdrop. Some of the words were too low to hear, but she heard the gist of it:

"...Gobelins are attacking the border along the range...they are doing it for a reason."

"Organized, too..."

"...divide the troops from Lincastle...strategically in each settlement...protect the people."

"Aye." There were several muffled agreements. So far, she did not recognize anyone.

"How many suffered...?"

"I cannot be sure yet." A small smile crept to her face—this voice she recognized as the king's. It almost felt sinful to listen in. King Talon's voice sounded again, louder than the others. "A handful of Drengr-Rider pairs flew sweeps when they spotted a group of fleeing villagers—women and children mostly—and came to their aid. The Gobelins were in the process of running them down."

"Gods above!" someone gasped.

"Horrible indeed!" cried another.

"Numerous villages were targeted, Kaljah being the northern-most."

"I thought we defeated the Gobelins for good after the Gobelin War."

"That was eight years ago, Lord Royce. Clearly they have since regrouped."

"With proper precautions, we may be able to push them back. I have informed Fort Lin of the necessary measures," King Talon said.

Claire grew antsy. The longer she waited, the harder it would be to intrude. She considered sneaking away to wait in King Talon's sitting area. The only problem was, she had no idea how long this meeting might go on.

There was boldness in her too. Why not simply open the door and sweep in? How much freedom did her new position afford? Her heart began to pound. Yes, better to just do it. She took a deep breath and grabbed the door's handle, pulling it open. When she entered, everyone inside fell silent.

It was a cozy room with a large table dominating the center. Stretched across the table's dark wood was a huge map. She quickly recognized Dragonwall's geography. The men in the room, whom she recognized as the Lower Council, were gathered around it—some hunched while others stood further back. All were studying its contents, or so they were before she had barged in.

"My lady!" Greetings echoed around the table as the king's Lower Council began bowing to her. Her gaze circled the room until she found the king's face. If he was surprised to see her, he hid it well.

"Pardon my intrusion, Your Grace, but may I speak with you for a moment?"

King Talon did not respond immediately. Perhaps he was contemplating the idea of banishing her from the room or scolding her for interrupting. After their previous argument, she would not have been surprised. However, King Talon didn't appear angered by her disruption. He cleared his throat. "You may speak with me—of course." He turned to the others in the room. "Leave us, my lords."

His advisors immediately complied, filing out of the room. When the door closed behind them, she stalled for time by gravitating towards the map. Some of the landmarks were easily recognizable, such as the Gable Forest, the various mountain ranges, the four forts, and several cities she knew by name. Across the map sat clusters of figurines. They reminded her of enlarged pieces from a chessboard.

So...Gobelins were finally attacking the East. This was Kane's doing—she was sure of it. She eyed the pieces and the locations of the villages under discussion. The king said nothing during her scrutiny, so she took the lead. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important," she said, knowing full well that she had. She already felt a little guilty about it. Instead of letting that get to her, she looked up at him and smiled sweetly, determined to be nice to him...just this once.

"Yes, and no," he said. "Perhaps your coming is a good thing. I was growing tired of this"—he pointed at the map—"and you being here saves me a trip to your chambers."

She blinked several times, processing his meaning. "I apologize that you find such ventures to be so inconvenient—"

"That is not what I meant." He took a step towards her and then stopped. "I just...that is to say...I have news to give you."

"Oh?"

"I am leaving for Fort Lin tomorrow. I shall be gone a week, perhaps longer."

"I see..."

"While I am gone, I expect you to behave yourself. My Shields will be here if you need anything. All I ask is that you do not venture into the city without them. I know of your propensity for disobeying my word, and I hope you do not see this as an opportunity for rule breaking."

It was in her nature to argue with him, and she almost did, but then she remembered her purpose. "You are right," she admitted. "I do like breaking your rules. Were they anyone else's, I might follow them more diligently." She watched as his eyes widened briefly. He quickly regained his composure. "That being said, I promise to behave and follow every single rule while you are gone. If..." Here she paused.

"If, what?"

"If you permit me a handmaiden."

His composure abruptly shattered and he laughed. She gazed at him in disbelief as waves of mirth rolled off him. "If that is all it takes, Lady Claire, then you may have as many handmaidens as you please!"

She had never seen him smile as he was now, and she took a moment to notice that his teeth were white and perfect, a direct contrast to his scarred and imperfect face. "So...this isn't a joke? You're being serious?"

"I am, Lady Claire. You may take whomever you like for a handmaiden, and how ever many of them you wish, so long as I have your word that you will behave."

"So, I can take Desaree to be my handmaiden?"

"Certainly. I will see to it that she has a fine salary. I will arrange that matter upon my return. You have my word. Do I have yours?"

She wanted to jump for joy and screech with excitement. What would King Talon think of her then? Instead, she contained her delight and simply said, "You have my word as well."

King Talon nodded and moved to the door, opening it for her. "Very good. Then I bid you good day."

She left his room in bright spirits. How Desaree would rejoice to discover this new turn of events! She could hardly wait to tell her.   

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