The city had been filled with people. Thousands of them were all packed in between the narrow roads like sheep being herded into a barn. They’d stepped aside for the city guard, but Hadra did not envy the people pushing and shoving to get through.
It had all felt like a whirlwind.
Buildings obstructed her view of the sky. Well-tended trees planted at every street corner made a feeble effort to combat the rotten smell of sweat and dirt that hung in the air. Horses and carriages slowly made their way through throngs of people and street sweepers cleaned the debris left by so many animals in one place.
Men and women sold wares in small shops and buildings along the street. Still more people looked down on the bustling area from windows on floors three or even four stories high! She saw a high tower with a great banner across the top claiming to be the “University of Denarla,” and another further into the city declaring itself, “The Ember Academy.” She recognized that as one of the most famous pyromancy schools in Tacuria.
She passed libraries, barracks, bars, and more inns than she could count. Performers and actors of all ages used magic to project their stories into the air, in ways that would make Mera glower with envy. Music like she’d never heard echoed from their doorways, which made her want to tap her feet and dance along.
This place was alive in a way that Pemolar’s Hill could never match.
Then they reached the palace. The smell abruptly became that of a fresh garden, the people evaporated, and suddenly she was inside, great wrought-iron gates closing behind her.
Esmerla and Destin, the only company for the past week, waved goodbye. Esmerla with excited enthusiasm, and Destin with forced irritability.
She was transferred to the care of two servants, who were polite but remained distant. They refused to answer any of her questions. After a long walk through a series of confusing halls, they opened one of the immaculate doors and pushed her into a bedroom.
They told her to wait for the Head Housekeeper before rushing off like they were late to something very important, leaving Hadra lost and clueless.
When she turned around, she gasped.
The room was the finest place Hadra had ever seen. The bed was a pristine four-post work of art, carved from beautiful oak, each post matching the others perfectly. The headboard was even more ornate, with carvings of fire mages etched into the wood.
The walls were grey stone, and the room was lit by a sconce with a glass cover. Real glass, like Mera had always tried to make.
There was a wardrobe and a vanity with a real mirror. Hadra spent so long staring at her reflection that she almost missed the sound of the door opening.
“Heavens help me,” said a girl who stood even shorter than Mera. She wore a silver smock with red filigree. Tacuria’s colors. Almost everyone Ilhadira had seen since entering the palace had been wearing them.
“Uhm… H-hello?” Hadra asked. She didn’t know who she’d expected, but this young girl wasn’t it. Could she be the Head Housekeeper?
“Alright, we have a lot of work to do, and the Duchess wishes to see you as soon as you’ve been made acceptable,” the young girl said. “That might take a few months, but we’ll do what we can.”
“Could I ask… who are you?” Hadra asked, worriedly.
The girl scowled. “Right. I suppose we should start on that. I’m Amadra, daughter of the Head Housekeeper. My mother is called Illdra. She looks like me, but shorter with white hair. Morken is the Seneschal. You’ll want to remember his name, but you likely won’t get the chance to talk to him until you’ve proven yourself to be at least a little bit useful to the Duchess. The cook is–!”
“Wait! Wait, stop. Wh-why are you telling me all this?” Hadra asked, panicked.
The young woman stared at her like she was an idiot. “Because it's what you’ll need to know. You aren’t the first talented individual to be invited into the duchess’s home, and you certainly won’t be the last. She does this, now and then. Either you impress her and get to stick around, or you don’t, she forgets you exist, and you are kicked out of the palace. In your case, I’m guessing you’ll be here for a night. Maybe two.”
Hadra’s lips went dry. “I… I thought… well. I wasn’t… that is to say–!”
“Yes, yes, you’re overwhelmed! It's a privilege! You yap for a while, no one cares. Let us skip ahead to the part where you earn the right to stay here? First, you’ll be getting a bath. Gods, those clothes are horrendous. Aren’t you supposed to be a weaver?”
Hadra was beginning to grow a little annoyed with the short woman’s rapid-fire words. She was likely only a few years older than Hadra herself, and she certainly hadn’t earned an elite talent. She wasn’t even the Housekeeper. The Housekeeper’s daughter. Was that a title?
She felt like Mera had told a story about a housekeeper not long ago. Something about ugly step sisters. This girl wasn’t ugly by any means, but she certainly gave the impression.
“I wore travel-appropriate clothing. If the daughter of the Head Housekeeper has a problem with that, perhaps she might take me somewhere I can change?” Hadra snapped.
“Where do you think we are?” she asked.
Hadra blinked. “Uhm. I’d…thought these were the Duchess’s quarters?”
The girl snorted. “A ratty room like this? My, you do come from the gutters, don’t you?”
Hadra bit her lip. Her mother had always told her she had a temper. She’d warned her to keep it in check. But this girl was trying her patience.
“So, this is to be my room?” she asked.
“Obviously,” the Amadra said.
Hadra turned, letting her eyes sweep over the accommodations in wonder, while simultaneously trying to hide that from this little twit.
Inwardly, she was beyond giddy. This was to be hers!? All of it!? And this girl thought, this was ratty!? What must the Duchess’s rooms look like?
She thought about it for a few moments, but found that she didn’t really care. She already felt like a noble lady! She couldn’t wait to tell Mera someday!
“Don’t get used to it,” Amadra said. “Once the Duchess Denarla forgets about you, this place will be off limits. I honestly don’t understand the Lady’s fascination with gutter trash.”
Hadra knew she shouldn’t snap. She was in a new place, with new rules. She should just let it go. Her talents would speak for themselves, and then she’d show this girl why she deserved to be here…
…but she really wanted to hit her.
“So, were you born here? What is it like, being the daughter of the Head Housekeeper?” she asked, attempting to smooth over whatever irritation she’d caused the servant.
“Do you think I have time to waste chittering with you? We’re in a hurry, so you’ll need to get dressed. A bath has already been warmed for you in the bathroom, just there,” she said, pointing to a doorway that Hadra hadn’t noticed amidst all the opulence.
She stepped over and saw that there was indeed a room with a dedicated bathing tub inside. The water was steaming hot.
“Gods! Whatever did I do to deserve all of this?” she said to herself in awe.
“Absolutely nothing. Now hurry up and get in so I can get back to my real duties instead of babysitting the Duchess’s newest toy.”
Hadra felt the moment her temper broke. It snapped in the same way it always did when her mother pushed just a few too many buttons. Cheerfulness faded from her eyes and she felt a sharp, acrid heat rise in her chest.
She spun and took two steps toward the girl, surprising her..
“Listen to me, you snide little twerp. I wouldn’t have come at all had I not been summoned and practically dragged here by city guards. Before I was pulled away, my best friends were drafted into the army. Before that, everyone in my town fought for their lives against nearly a thousand war trolls. We killed them all,” she snapped.
“You… I–!” the girl stammered, taken aback by Hadra’s abrupt change in demeanor. Hadra leaned forwarded, looming over the girl as she stepped into her personal space.
“Two weeks ago, I was sewing bandages out of their fucking armor, and now I am here, being berated by an impudent little servant who thinks the fact that she’s the daughter of someone important makes her special. She is not. So from now on, if you have any more obnoxious little quips you’d like to hit me with, keep them to yourself.”
The girl squeaked. “Wh-what?”
Two tiny needles slipped out of Hadra’s pack. She added six more to make sure the girl could see them, banding them together. They didn’t do anything. Just floated ominously, twirling in midair behind her.
“Do you understand, Amadra?” she asked.
“Y-yes, Ma’am!” the girl said as she dipped into a curtsy.
“Wonderful!” Hadra said, dropping all pretense of anger. She was still pissed at the little gremlin, but if she was going to be living here, potentially for the rest of her life, she certainly wasn’t going to let that attitude become the norm.
The moment she calmed down, she regretted her words immediately. She was no one here, and even if the girl was just a servant's daughter, this would almost certainly cause trouble for her down the line.
It was a little hard to be too afraid of what the girl could do to retaliate when she had seen a war troll coming to kill her more than once in the past month. She also had ninety free points banked to use on any skill she might need.
She would bow and scrape for the duchess. Her housekeeper’s daughter was another story. Inwardly, she panicked. Outwardly, she kept the stoic face that nobles always had in Mera’s stories.
“Now. You were saying some useful things earlier! I’d love to hear about the Seneschal, and the cook. Why don’t you try telling me about them again? This time, at a pace fit for humans instead of hummingbirds?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the girl said more steadily this time, not daring to meet her eyes. She then began telling Hadra about the members of the staff, while she began to undress.
Hadra was actually looking forward to meeting the Duchess, and she wanted to show what she could truly do when given the right materials. For now, it took all of her concentration not to lose every ounce of her composure as she stepped into the most luxurious bath she’d ever felt.