Vesta sat in the
bay window of her mistress’
lavish chamber. Tonight, being the feast of
Lilith, she
donned such finery as she was not accustomed
to. She
twirled a loose strand of blood-red hair
around her
finger, staring out into the night. Her wavy
mane had
been gathered and sat atop her head, and it
would have
been hard to tell her apart from the finer
ladies that
would arrive at the manor that night.
The door creaked open, and her mistress
peeked
in. A girl two years younger than herself,
mayhaps
twelve, with similarly prepared hair, though
hers was
of a striking blond shade. Vesta turned
about, and saw
the face of the other girl was riddled with
anxiety.
“Ves,” the girl whispered, a pained
look creasing
her face, “Come quickly!”
Vesta arose from the cushioned windowsill,
and
joined her mistress, Renee, in the hall.
“What’s the matter, dear, you look
as though you
are about to wretch,” Vesta said to
Renee, concern
resounding in her voice. Although on the
feast of Lilith
servants were allowed to retire for the
night, her first
priority was the welfare of her young
mistress.
“No, I’m not ill,” Renee
insisted, “Just come, come
to the parlor. My lady speaks to another,
about you,”
she motioned for Vesta to follow her down the
corridor,
past the drawing room, and to the parlor.
The two girls, adorned in layered gowns,
crouched at the foot of the door besides
this. The laid
their ears to the wooden surface in unison,
eavesdropping on the conversation.
When nothing but low mumbles could be heard,
Renee spoke.
“I fear there is talk of employing you
in a
different household,” she whispered,
still straining to
hear.
“How came you to this conclusion, young
sylph?”
Vesta questioned, arising from the floor.
“My lady spoke of a wealthy stranger
attending
this party tonight,” she started,
“I saw a carriage outside
that I had never seen before, nor had I
before laid eyes
on the woman it carried. Immediately when
this
woman entered our home, my lady shut herself
and the
stranger up in the parlor, where they have
been for the
last half an hour. I sat and listened for a
quarter of that
time, whereupon I heard (be not deceitful,
ears)
discussion of your worth,” Renee led
Vesta back down
the hall, still far enough from the main room
that the
rest of the party guests could not see them.
“If that does
not sound like talk of business, then what
could it have
been?”
Vesta stood, silent, for a moment. She
didn’t
believe the lady of the house would simply
hawk her
like meat to the first stranger that offered
coin. She was
a careful woman when dealing in the servant
market,
and it seemed odd she would sell her only
daughter’s
maid -and friend- so rushed and readily.
