No one ever knows when their time will come. Galavanting into battle to reclaim a title stolen, or maybe simply sitting on a chamber pot in the middle of the night– exactly how a butler had found the first prince, Azrail, this morning. He was sitting on the bowl, slumped over to one side, blowflies already making the prince’s mouth into the incubator for their larva. And now, thankfully, the estate was much quieter than usual. Sure, there was the occasional screaming and crying from his wife each time I passed by the room in which his body was being stored, but honestly, the shocking death of the young prince was bizarre and unexpected. The prince was just barely thirty, he was healthy, and compared to most nobles, he bathed much more frequently. His death was not a predicted one, but still quite unfortunate. And even though I can’t feel bad for the man, nor his wife, I can at least pretend to understand a fraction of their pain.
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Familial attachments were foreign to me. Motherless, fatherless, no siblings, aunts or uncles. The concept of a close death was not an unfamiliar thing, but the act of experiencing the event it was much different. The solemn and soft expression that all the other laundry maids kept up seemed so unnecessary. All that work to show a feeling most of us didn’t even have– it was tiresome, but considered rude if you didn’t partake in the grieving etiquette.
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Not that it was any of my business in the first place. A laundry maid isn’t supposed to concern herself with the topics of her higher-ups. It’s not my place to question it. My work at the Virellia estate is far more important than the theories my mind conjures up. Imagination will get me nowhere in this world. A single mistake could put me in a noose. Best not to distract myself with things that don’t concern me. My job is to wash, dry, and deliver garments and cloth, not to imagine what does not concern me in any way.
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With a basket of dirty linen in my hands, I made my way down the long corridor, retrieving the dirty sheets from another’s room and delivering them to the washroom on the first floor. A trip that was more trouble than it was worth–well, not getting a punishment for incompetence is reward enough, but having to walk past the room of the recently deceased prince was not exactly a fantastic experience. His door was closed; the grand and intricate carvings of the door and doorframe always intrigued me. The woodwork work of a skilled craftsman, and the art of the painter adding color and vibrancy to the dark wood. I paused, taking notice of the artesian’s work, Dots encased in rhombi and a square, the symmetry of the work was almost exact to an impossible degree. So much so that I bet if I sawed off one of the squares and compared them to the others, I doubt I’d find much variation between the two. The air around the room smelled slightly sweet, a light floral but charred scent being emitted from the room.
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A sharp whine came from inside of the prince’s room, jolting me out of my daydreaming. Her voice sounds pained. Princess Freya, his wife. A woman of high standing and elegance. I’ve never met the woman, but I don’t plan on ever interacting with her, either. Even though they’re just rumors, stories of her being malicious and cruel are not uncommon among the serving maids. Goes to show either how much of a good person she is or how truly terrible her personality must be. Because there are only two reasons handmaids gossip about their mistresses. They’re either jealous and want to tarnish her reputation, or they are cruel and easily angered by small mistakes. There is usually no in-between.
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Don’t get distracted, idiot. I reminded myself, turning on my heel to head down into the washroom. The servants' stairs were long, steep, and worn; every step I took brought me closer to the ground but also the next uncertain step. The wood creaking underneath me as I tried my best to see around the basket of linens in my hand. Many had fallen down these very same stairs before, and if I’m not careful, I’ll become one of those ghost stories Edith likes to tell to scare the young girls in the estate. Descending the last death trap of a step, I landed in the washroom. A rather sunny room with two washing basins, one to wash and the other to rinse.
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The first basin was overfilled. My best guess is that either someone who wasn’t a laundry servant filled it, or there’s someone new starting today. But again, not like a new servant is my problem; they’ll get used to it here, one way or another. I sat the basket of laundry down on the stone floor and turned to grab a washboard hanging from the wall. What I did not expect was for Edith, the ever-quiet walker she is, to be standing directly behind me. Jumping at the unexpected invasion of my personal space. Edith just stood there, far too close to me, a big grin on her face–likely proud that she had startled me.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzqFjfiJSWK
“Mal.” She drawled with a cocked smile and squinted eyes. I stared at her for a moment and then another.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡprdIeCYozR
“What scheme are you trying to get me into this time?” I questioned her, shaking my head adamantly about getting involved with something above my pay grade. And by pay grade, I mean room and board; it's not like I couldn’t request coin, I just value being fed and housed more than the measly sum I would be granted.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5wn2eixBE4
“Scheme?” She whined dramatically. “I just want to talk about the late prince!”27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWIC8m4TTqz
“And what the owners and children of the estate do is none of our concern! Get back to work before we get another whipping from the head maid.” I scolded her, passing to her left, our skirts brushing past each other momentarily.
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Carrying the washboard back over to the basin, I grabbed one garment from the basket, thoroughly dunking it to make sure the article was fully saturated with water. Edith just stared at me and pouted, her brow creasing in frustration. She’ll have a double brow wrinkle when she ages–if she makes it that long. I mused, using a piece of fatty soap to scrub the stink and dirt off of the sheets. The suds were riding up my arms as I rubbed the linen against the washboard. Edith crouched down next to me, grabbing a pillowcase. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS7ltwjkG81
“Well, rumor has it–” I slammed my hand against her lips, the bubbles dripping down her chin. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX8rKMrgZiy
“Is this about the late prince?” I interrogated her. She nodded, a few strands of her bun coming loose and shaking with her.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVinE1Ag5NY
“Could this rumor get both of us executed?” I added. Edith paused for a moment, thinking hard. She shook her head while shrugging, implying she wasn’t entirely sure. I sighed, exasperated. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡftPnJ31Noz
“You best watch your tongue,” I stated, removing my hand from her face. She stuck out her tongue, trying to get the taste of soap off her tongue, and she wiped her face off on her apron, the bubbles bursting on contact with the cloth.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡphZU4XAErX
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I went back to scrubbing the sheets against the corrugations of the washboard. Edith started scrubbing away too, also as uninterested in getting another whipping as me. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8HxcM3Kzrc
“So, as I was saying.” She sighed, giving me a dirty look. “The late prince was apparently murdered; at least, that’s what the doctor said.” She stated. I looked at her, halting my working hands.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡijcb00nEM2
“That doesn’t make sense,” I stated, cocking my brow, thinking she was just making it up to scare me into believing there was a killer in the estate.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡklCDeT0Sp3
“No! I heard it myself when I was picking up the Grand Duchess’s dresses this morning!” She insisted excitedly. Her face lit up with enthusiasm. An odd one she was, even for a child subjected to poverty like myself; she was far too comfortable talking about death. Acting as if it were fashion snippets from the Duchess’s monthly catalog. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡElkRECgKMj
“And? Who do they think did it?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t play into this, but I knew how important it is to be educated on rumors, just in case the words were true. Staying away from a suspected killer would benefit me in more ways than one. Distancing myself from the crime and avoiding harm coming to me if I stumble upon damning evidence.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8ZqUaOVrgE
“The second prince, his Highness Valen.” She replied, taking the pillow case out of the basin and wiping most of the suds off the fabric. I turned to her, flabbergasted by her conclusion.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnr7j05zucg
“You truly think the young prince would do such a thing to his brother?” I asked, scrubbing the last small stain out of the sheets.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSolJPm33YF
“I’m sure of it!” She exhorted. “He was one of the last people seen going into the late prince’s bedroom; the only other suspect was his personal physician, who had come to check on his lung infection.” She explained.
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But that didn’t make any sense… The young prince and the late prince get along well, from what I’ve heard. Not only that, but the young prince has never shown interest in taking the title of Grand Duke. I thought, things just didn’t add up. There wasn’t a concrete reason for the young prince to do that. Not only was his constitution weak, but he simply lacked the interest in the title itself. It didn’t make sense, unless.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTA2VFd48Im
For some reason, he was being framed. But that didn’t explain it either. Yes, he wasn’t exactly a sociable person, but it’s not like anyone in the estate particularly disliked him enough to frame him for murder. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFKhdKbzSZv
“Wait, you said the first prince had a lung infection?” I inquired, looking Edith dead in the eyes. She made a face, clearly startled that I was looking at her so intensely when I usually refused to look at anyone’s face.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIjVdDjWXga
“Well, yes. He had fluid in his lungs again. That’s what I overheard the doctor say, at least.” She admitted, a little timidly, clearly not used to me pressing her for answers, especially when they’re above my pay grade. The sweet and floral but burnt smell coming from the late prince’s room, the lung infection, and ultimately his death.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYQVesUrgbA
“No, it wasn’t the young prince…” I said, shaking my head. “You know how we present white lilies during an important announcement? And how the late prince always has some sort of fragrant candle burning near him at all times?” I asked her. Edith thought about this for a moment, her face confused.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpeqZ9gSgHV
“Well, of course, I’m in charge of his laundry. Every time I go into his bedroom, there’s at least one lit candle. It always gives me a headache.” She replied to me, her expression confused as she pondered my newfound intrigue into her gossip. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzvERP0orj9
“Where were the lilies placed in his room? Do you know?” I interrogated her, crowding her personal space this time. My body language serious and rigid.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9dO8u9Imnl
“They–they were on the round table next to his candle collection.” She squeaked, crawling backwards. “What difference does it make?”27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjKMTNYv3g1
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My face turned serious. I gripped her shoulders in my wet and sudsy hands intensely.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqJ1hTVuAn7
“Edith. Were the lilies still there after the late prince was discovered?” I said, my tone demanding to know the answer. I knew it wasn’t my business, knew it was too far above my pay grade, knew it could get me hanged if someone called me a liar and accused me of conspiring with the young prince for murder. But I knew he was innocent. If my theory was right, the young prince wouldn’t be guilty, no. It had to have been an accident.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEgBN45zUTI
“I…” She started, her face full of bewilderment and cowardice. “I’m not sure, I didn’t think to look while bringing in the masking sheet.” She confessed with a whimper. I just kept staring at her, insisting she remember if there were flowers there still or not. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPy5Nyev9tA
“Can’t we just ask Lady Freya’s personal maid?” She whined, brushing me off. “I’ll go ask if the flowers are still there.”27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRsfItHPrLX
“And why would she tell you?” I asked, shaking my head disapprovingly. “Edith, if you ask something that odd, you need to have an excuse.” I reminded her. I stood up, brushing the dust off of my skirt, and offered my hand to help her up.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvG0k5c8MmO
“This is important, wrongful accusations can lead to death.” I informed her, leaving the rest of the laundry work behind and dashing back up the servant’s stairs.
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I didn’t particularly like the young prince, nor did I exactly dislike him. Rumors usually held little truth to them, but still, some truth was better than none and then being caught in a noble's anger. He was described to me as cold and unsociable, an extremely secluded and secretive young man. I’m sure he’s had to live like that to avoid being targeted. A boy who’s had to live in his brother’s shadow to avoid attempts on his life, sure it was a grounds for a motive, wanting to finally outshine an elder sibling. But I knew in my gut; something wasn’t right. Step after step, breath after breath, we got closer to the top of the stairs. I knew a single slip would surely kill us both this far up, but I couldn’t stop myself from speeding up. The small and rickety door came into view as we ascended the last set of steps and burst into the hallway. Edith was out of breath behind me as I scanned the corridor, looking for Miss Erwell, Lady Freya’s personal maid. I took a deep breath, trying not to seem like I was in a rush and find myself being questioned by her.
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Miss Erwell was rounding the corner, a tray of tea and scones in her hand. She was dressed in pure black, mourning clothes. Likely requested by the Lady. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQkKBVoiu9w
“Miss Erwell!” I called, releasing Edith’s hand and donning an innocent and helpful expression. “Someone asked me to find you! They said the lilies in the late prince’s bedroom were wilting and wanted to know if they should bring new ones!” I explained, lying through my teeth. I knew I shouldn’t be, it was none of my business which person was accused of killing the late prince.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbO1at9hOoN
“Oh, I’ll go see if they’re wilting. I didn’t think that there were any lilies placed in his room.” She replied, surprised but thankfully not questioning the sudden pestering of two young laundry maids. Edith and I followed closely behind Miss Erwell, lowering our heads as we entered the late prince’s bedroom. The air was stiff, sweet and smelled faintly of smoke. My nose wrinkled, unhappy with the sudden change in air quality that, for some reason, wasn’t affecting Miss Erwell or Lady Freya in any way.
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Miss Erwell set the tray on the nightstand, Lady Freya was hunched over the bed, clutching the grayed hand of the late prince who was shrouded in white cloth. She poured a cup of tea for her; the scent of chamomile and honey slightly diluted the floral and burnt aroma of the room.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1nRmtpZ8U0
“My Lady, I beg you, please at least drink.” Miss Erwell pleaded, holding out the china cup to Lady Freya. Edith and I were left standing a few paces away from the bed, heads down. We were not permitted to look at the dead here. The higher the rank of the deceased, the fewer individuals there are who are allowed to touch or look at them. We were two of the many people who had been forbidden from looking at the late prince, even though most of us were not even allowed this far up the stairs, let alone permitted to enter a high-ranking noble’s chambers. Lady Freya didn’t move; the only confirmation that she was even still alive was the subtle rise and fall of her chest. My eyes wandered around the room, taking in the many candles lit to mask the smell of death, and still the disgusting, sickeningly burnt floral scent remained. My eyes landed on a decorated porcelain vase, empty except for one lone and charred leaf. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs1WegO5lfi
Burnt. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCEcIu9aTHz
I nudged Edith with my elbow, gesturing towards the empty vase. Her eyes traveling to the piece and then returning to me. She looked at me, confused as to why this empty vase on his previously lit candle table was of any importance.
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Miss Erwell turned back to us, unsuccessful in getting the lady to take a drink. She sighed and shook her head. The poor women looked exhausted, Miss Erwell more so than Lady Freya.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDPNsmsAoqP
“It seems that the flower vase has already been emptied; please return with more.” She told us, her eyes landing on the vase. Her feet carried her slowly towards the porcelain piece, picking it up gently in her hands. But before she turned to give us the vase, she halted, her nose twitching in irritation.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPgamawV7RA
“My word, what on earth is that smell?” She said, her rhetorical question going unanswered as it spoke for itself.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnRN8cE5U1m
“Why…” She muttered to herself, staring at the charred remains of the lilies. 27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3pB9h5KjbV
“Miss,” I spoke up. “Do you perhaps know the effects of breathing in toxic flowers?”27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAzoy0BPGYB
