by M D Baker
“You will do as I say, Amarrah.” Valda’s icy-cold demeanor fell into place as she shut the door, the lone guard’s presence nearby reminding me that we’d now resumed our roles as Mistress and servant. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll have a new set of duties, and you will attend to them rigorously.”
Despite the abrupt shift, I still had the presence to respond with a low curtsey. “Yes, my Lady.”
Valda dismissed me with a careless wave, and I made my way down the stairs towards the kitchens with a mind full of confusion. While I’d begun leading something of a double life from the moment I’d foolishly opened the magical tome, what Valda intended was beyond anything I could’ve imagined. At some point, she’d deem me ready for public display, raising me from the rank of a simple servant to near noble status. I wasn’t certain any amount of preparation would be enough to make me ready for such a drastic and potentially catastrophic transition.
Not that she’d given me any choice in the matter.
I returned to my room after a quick meal, finding a surprising amount of comfort within the familiar space. The darkness outside obscured my view, but the flickering light of torches lit up the Keep, filling its sprawling grounds with a wavering orange glow. The long day and the promise of something unexpected to follow left me exhausted, but as I lay down, I toyed with my magic for a while before my eyes finally slid shut. Perhaps it was only an illusion, or maybe a stray breath of wind, though I felt no breeze upon my cheek—either way, the lone strand of loose hay I’d been trying to manipulate seemed to flutter just a little as I passed into sleep.
Chapter 5
When I went for breakfast the next morning, I found Lady Valda’s personal valet waiting for me with a list of new chores. My mornings wouldn’t change very much; I still had linens to change and various other housekeeping duties within both Lord Aldon and Lady Valda’s suites, but the more onerous tasks such as tending to the chamber pots had been passed on to others. I’d been relieved of most other chores entirely, and in their place were a new set of obligations. While I still had the sole responsibility of ensuring the cleanliness of the library shelves—an obvious cover for my lessons—I’d also been tasked with something completely new.
“Where’s this ‘conservatory’ I’m supposed to clean?” I was forced to ask the woman. Although I’d lived my entire life in Blackwood Keep, I was unaware of any such room.
“It’s just some fancy word for Lady Valda’s study,” the valet informed me with a soft chuckle, lowering her voice to a furtive whisper before adding, “They do enjoy putting on their little airs, don’t they?”
With a world comprised entirely of such haughty affectations, intrigue, and even more precarious things lying somewhere in my future, her comment didn’t provoke half the amusement she’d intended. Still, I managed a weak smile as we climbed up the many stairs to the Keep’s upper levels, where we’d both begin our tasks for the day.
Although she’d already known my name, she finally introduced herself before we went our separate ways. “I’m Jaine, by the way. Come see me if you need anything.”
Blackwood Keep was far from some massive castle, but with how busy we all were and the few bits of time we had for ourselves, it wasn’t unusual to recognize someone by face yet have no name to attach to them. I’d passed Jaine countless times, either rushing by each other up and down the stairs or grabbing a quick bite to eat in the kitchens together. This was the first occasion we had that required any interaction beyond that, indicating she suspected we’d be working closely together for a while.
“Thank you.” I returned her slight smile with a broad grin—the rare bit of genuine friendliness was a welcome respite from the typical distance that separated me from the other servants. Turning to leave, I found Valda blocking the doorway, a disapproving sneer curling her lip as she looked me over.
“Why would you bring her up here wearing that?” I cringed when Valda’s cold words shattered the fragile peace.
“My apologies, Lady Valda,” Jaine responded with a deep curtsey. “Mara was already dressed for the day when I found her.”
“Those rags may be suited for scrubbing pots, but you know I provide better for my personal attendants,” Valda’s rebuke was firm yet not unkind. “I’ll let it pass for now, but make sure Amarrah’s been furnished with everything before the end of the day.”
“Of course.” A second curtsey accompanied Jaine’s response. “I’ve already made the arrangements, my Lady.”
With the command apparently addressed to her satisfaction, Valda withdrew, retreating back to whatever activities occupied her time during the day. I stifled a laugh when Jaine rolled her eyes at the Countess’ back, and she offered me a mock bow on her way out. I’d always thought the higher ranking servants to be far more obsequious, but if Jaine was any indication, that certainly wasn’t the case.
With most of the arduous chores taken away from me, I worked through my tasks quickly, finishing well before midday. The extra time allowed me to enjoy an almost leisurely lunch before returning to attend to Lady Valda’s study. Gathering up my cleaning supplies, I expected to have the room to myself, but Valda sat alone in one of the chairs, happily sipping on a cup of wine as I entered.
“Close the door, Starling.” She gestured for me to shut the portal with her free hand. “We have work to do.”
“Lock it,” she added before I could face her again, the sound of Valda setting her glass aside accompanying the words.
Turning around, I found that she’d risen from her chair and was pouring a generous portion of red liquid into a rather large cup. The mischievous grin on her face as she peered into my eyes told me who the wine was intended for, and I swallowed hard at the thought of consuming such a large quantity of the potent elixir.
“Come, join me.” Valda’s smile only widened when she motioned towards the plush chair beside her.
Stiff legs carried me closer until I stood next to her, my unease only increasing with Valda’s obvious sense of amusement. My moment of hesitation vanished when she reached out; a slight push against my shoulder was all it took for Valda to send me tumbling into the seat.
“Magic will only be one of your weapons, dear.” Valda slid the cup along the smooth surface of the marble table, inching it closer as her eyes urged me to take a sip. “You must also become fluent in the art of conversation.”
“Words uttered without caution have caused more ruin than any spell you might cast.” The warmth of the wine flowed over my tongue as she spoke, the rare luxury enticing me to drink even more deeply. “Whether spoken out of recklessness, whispered against the wrong pillow, or blurted out in drunken bravado, the results are always the same.”
The knowing arch of Valda’s brow made her admonishment perfectly clear, and I set the glass down without tasting a second mouthful.
“The library will be for magic,” she continued, looking on with approval at my act of discretion. “But the lessons you learn here will be just as important; perhaps even more so.”
Her intention suddenly became obvious: this deceptively soothing chamber of horrors was to serve as my introduction into the ways of the aristocracy. Here was where Valda would instruct me in the etiquette of lies, double-speak, and deception—uttered with the appropriate amount of sweetness and sincerity to ensure they were mistaken for earnest truths. Whispering falsehoods with conviction would be the easiest part of the challenge ahead of me; learning how to pick apart the scant bits of honesty among a sea of hypocrisy would be the real test. More than one noble had been brought down with a single misstep there, and as a simple servant elevated to the rank of trusted retainer, my position would be far more precarious than that.
“My Lady, I’m not sure—”
“This is a place of instruction, Starling,” she cut off my feeble protest. “Both here and in the library, you will address me by name alone.”
“Valda…” I paused after the single word, uncomfortable with considering myself anywhere ne
ar her equal. “What you intend is well above my station.”
“Nonsense.” She cast aside my concerns with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Had circumstances been different, I would’ve begun your education years ago.”
“In time, you will understand the reasons for that delay.” Valda set her cup aside, lowering her voice as she leaned closer. “For now, there is a great deal you need to learn.”
I was surprised that Valda’s instruction did not include the craft of deception as I’d imagined. Instead, we only talked of inconsequential matters: the weather, an upcoming festival in the village, and other items of little to no real importance. Our casual discussion served as my introduction to the art of what she referred to as ‘small talk,’ a valuable skill that wasn’t without a secondary purpose. Setting an opponent at ease was one of the first steps required in order to properly maneuver them.
Aside from its potentially duplicitous nature, I found our talk quite pleasant. Once Valda dismissed me for the day, I wandered back to my room, eager to learn even more about the ways of the nobility. With that first lesson behind me, my curiosity overcame any sense of apprehension, and I looked forward to one day testing myself against the arrogant fools who considered themselves so much better than me. Although she hadn’t expressly stated it, it was clear that there were only two things separating me from them: training and a simple accident of birth. While there was nothing to be done about the latter, with Valda’s help, the former was an issue we could easily correct.
Opening the door to my chamber revealed a room I barely recognized. My straw pallet was gone, and in its place was an actual bed with a soft mattress beneath a thick layer of blankets. Several changes of clothes lay atop a small chest at its foot, uniforms matching the more refined servant garb Jaine had been wearing. Opposite the window, a dressing table and chair had been brought in, and a tiny mirror hung on the wall above its smooth surface. Colored ribbons matching my new clothes lay in a neatly folded pile below, alongside a hairbrush and fine-toothed comb.
Nothing had been said, but for the first time in my life, I knew that I had possessions I could actually call my own. My sudden elevation came with a distinct set of benefits, and I fell into the chair—my chair—as that realization swept over me. I would always remain a servant, nothing could change that, but Valda had pulled me up from the ranks of the faceless to join the few truly respected members of that class. The comb caught in the tangled knots of my hair, but as I slowly worked them out, I vowed to repay Valda’s kindness by proving myself worthy of her trust.
Chapter 6
Over the months and then years that followed, my lessons alternated between mastering the stagecraft of upper society and the equally intricate path of the mystical arts. During the early days of our secret sessions, Valda guided me to my first real casting of magic, a gentle nudge with Push that I used to coax a small stone barely an inch across the library table. Just as she’d predicted, everything else fell into place after that, and the rest of the spells came to me in rapid succession.
I gradually became more comfortable in Valda’s presence, letting my guard down just a little as we became something closer to friends. After my initial introduction, her lessons went on to cover the proper decorum in any number of situations, from formal dining to grand balls—she even taught me how to perform the elaborate steps of several dances. Only once I’d become fully immersed in Valda’s strange yet wondrous world did she begin teaching me how to maneuver its more treacherous depths.
Although my status remained covert, Valda assured me that the day of my unveiling was soon at hand. Wielding the basic magic wasn’t enough to guarantee my safety, however. I would need to gain a degree of control over a far more complex set of spells before I’d be ready for that. Unfortunately, those lessons were put on hold when the threat of war looming on the horizon plunged the Keep into a state of chaos.
Raids by the soldiers of Cyndhar had always plagued our borders, but the increasing boldness of those incursions crossed a line Farren was no longer willing to tolerate. The slaughter of an entire small village was the last straw, and Lord Aldon marched off with most of his troops as they joined with the army of Farren to retaliate, leaving only his trusted Guard-Captain and a few dozen soldiers behind. Despite the friendship that had grown between Valda and me, the closest I’d ever come to the Count was the moment we saw him off, his eyes briefly meeting mine while I waved a colorful banner to wish him well. Had things gone according to Valda’s plan, there would have been a private meeting between us within a matter of months—the true purpose of which she’d kept hidden from me. But the war had erased her carefully managed preparations, and many of my lessons were postponed as Valda was forced to tend to affairs formerly handled by the Count himself. The temporary halt in my education prevented me from learning any of the more powerful spells, so I focused on perfecting my skill with the handful I already knew.
Push was a fairly weak but extremely useful skill, allowing me to manipulate small objects in almost any way imaginable. So long as the item wasn’t too heavy and remained within view, I could do almost anything with it. Shelter provided me with a fragile shield, but the barrier it created was my only form of protection against physical attack. By then, I was able to use Balm to heal a variety of minor injuries, though I wasn’t permitted to wield its power openly. The tiny burst of flame from Spark had become my exclusive means of igniting fires, while Bolt remained my sole offensive spell—a thin shaft of energy that was potentially deadly if it landed just right.
Although each of them was relatively weak, increasing my proficiency could make them more useful. As with any spell, the more energy I was able to channel into the magic, the greater its effects would be. With complete mastery, even these basic castings might eventually become quite formidable. At least that’s what the texts led me to believe. So, while the Lord was away and Lady Valda’s lessons continued to be ‘rescheduled,’ I practiced alone in the library, honing what little talent I possessed.
Even with my studies, the lighter workload I’d been given allowed me a great deal of free time, just like all of Lady Valda’s personal attendants. We tended to gather together each evening once our duties were finished, and I found a true sense of friendship among them—especially Jaine, though she was two years older than me. While my exact date of birth remained a mystery, from what I’d been told, it had been seventeen summers since I’d been brought inside Blackwood Keep. Not that it was an event worth celebrating.
News of the conflict began streaming back to us within a few weeks, the first reports telling only of great victories for the armies of Farren. Despite their aggression, Cyndhar had been unprepared for our response, and their scattered forces crumbled beneath the assault. Our joy faded quickly, however, when no word of further conquests followed those initial messages, leaving us to wonder what misfortune might have caused the delay.
I was studying in the library late one afternoon when the alarm bell began ringing, a sound I’d only heard on one other occasion in my entire life. That incident had been a case of mistaken identity, where a guard failed to recognize the Farren insignia on an unexpected patrol from across the river. Somehow, I knew this was no repeat of that blunder, and my insides wound into knots as I rushed towards my room.
Lady Valda snatched my hand as I made my way down the stairs, dragging me up to the battlements atop the Keep without uttering a single word. The grim expression she wore told me everything I needed to know—whoever was approaching was no friend of ours.
A vast sea of soldiers crested a low hill while the shouts of villagers echoed from below, filling the courtyard with a press of bodies seeking refuge from the coming slaughter. The bloodred flag of Cyndhar flew at their forefront, the realm’s golden dragon sigil emblazoned across its center. My knees buckled at the thought of what was certain to follow. From what I’d been told, Cyndhar held few captives, and those who were taken alive did not consider themselves lucky.
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��We should’ve had some warning,” Valda whispered beside me, her voice sounding almost lost as she surveyed the horde surging even closer.
“Seems they marched through one of the outer districts and straight to us, my Lady.” Captain Griff stood beside her, one eye on his men as they leapt to the defenses while the other began counting the bristling spears of the enemy.
“We can hold them off.” The captain’s words comforted me for a brief moment before he continued. “But not for long.”
“She’s not ready.” Valda swallowed as she faced the soldier. “Nor am I.”
Griff smiled in return. “Forgive me, my Lady, but you were never going to be.”
“Perhaps not.” She returned his grin with a half-smile of her own, leaving me completely confused.
“Will you see to the arrangements?”
Griff responded to Valda’s request with a curt nod before vanishing down the stairs.
“Come, Starling.” Her fingers laced between mine, and I stumbled while taking my first step as the Countess pulled me along beside her.
We stopped for a short while in Valda’s chamber on the floor below, where the Countess stuffed several small pouches inside a large pack before leading me down the stairs to the library. There she tucked the well-worn brown spellbook and one other volume away, an unfamiliar, blue-bound text with patterns of gold etched across its cover.
“It seems I only have a few moments to tell you all the things you need to know.” Valda let out a deep sigh of regret, uncharacteristically dropping any pretense of masking her true emotions. “I had hoped to ease you into this transition, but I doubt the Cyndhari will allow us the luxury of the time that would require.”
“Your mother died in childbirth, but that’s the only real truth you’ve been told,” the Countess began, taking hold of my hands as she sat by my side. “But it wasn’t labor that took her life; it was the poison of a Cyndhari assassin that killed Lady Korrine.”
