Pearls and Roses

⌠⌠LEILA 🥀⌡⌡

That morning, there was a murder of crows on the rooftop or in any of the trees in the gardens; I could not tell. The series of loud caws made it impossible to focus on my book. Before I could open my bedroom window, a loud thud forced me out of the alcove.

I stumbled, then fell on my back. I stood up before anyone could walk in, covering my warming cheeks.

A shivering white bird was sitting on the windowsill. Its left wing was a patch of black from its neck and an old wound on its beak. I tapped the window twice to draw its attention, and it took the bait. “I’m opening the window now.”

When it only blinked, I took that as a sign that it understood me, then opened the window.

Its gaze was still on me, blinking rapidly as if to keep awake. I looked for blood, broken bones....... anything, then carried it carefully in my hands. “You’re okay now.” I whispered, tucked my book in my underarm before walking out of my chamber and down the long stairs.

“My Lady? It’s still early. Where to?” Clara, our housekeeper, said, tucking some draperies under her arm.

“The gardens.” I walked away quickly before she could ask further questions.

I wandered a stride further away from the manor, then placed the bird in the grass. “Here, let’s see how you fare.”

It remained stagnant. Still blinking at me.

Water. It must be thirsty.

“Don’t move.” I pointed a finger at it before taking the brown back door to the kitchen, which was to the east, slightly hidden from the eye should one be standing in front of the manor. “How may I help you, my lady?” the chief cook, Mrs Price, said, straightening up.

Scents of fresh bread and stew greeted me, masked in soap. The blue dressing of the window above the white sink billowed into the gentle breeze.

Few of the maids and cooks rushed to my side as I looked around the kitchen. “I’d like an old bowl, one that a bird can drink from......in a manner that it won’t drown.”

“A bird?” she asked. I smiled at her, “Yes.”

Mrs Price’s thin brows furrowed, “Er.....” She walked to the kitchen sink and pulled out a small silver bowl from the cabinet beside.

The kettle on the stovetop whistled, and a maid rushed to turn it off, walking around the table that was in the centre.

The faded yellow walls matched well with the black and white chequered floor. The kitchen itself wasn’t small, neither was it big. A perfect size for most of the servants to move around without tripping off each other’s feet or tumbling each other down. Beside the window were two opened doors; the first was an entrance into the halls. The second held stairs leading to the maids’ quarters.

“Will this bowl suffice?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you.” I took it and filled it with water from the tap. Just as I was walking out, I recognised the butler, Mr Calnan’s voice, “The lady is awake.”

I returned to an empty spot where the bird should’ve been. Called for it but nothing, heart heavy with the sentiment that it thought it was abandoned.

It also meant that it wasn’t too wounded to fly. That was a better thought.

Amidst the growing caws of the crows, I sat under the tree with my back leaning against it, and opened my book to continue reading. Ever slowly. Albeit, I found myself distracted by a postman on his bicycle, making his way through the driveway. The footman received him and took two letters from him, none of which I knew were mine, before the postman rode away, back from where he came.

Two letters. This early. It must contain important information, but I couldn’t think of what. The affairs of this house were beyond my ken, and Lady Annabelle preferred it so.

I, for one, was glad, insomuch as I found it rather daunting.

My stomach grumbled. I frowned. It was a little too early for breakfast, but perhaps I could get a fruit from the dining table, should the table be already set for dinner.

I stood up and rubbed the leaves off my dress before walking inside. Constantly busy, but ultimately unproductive. Outrageous time on my hands was rendering me a busybody.

“Oh, thank God.” I murmured upon seeing the fruit bowl on the dining table. Quickly, I took an apple and rubbed it against my sleeve since it was still freshly washed and bit into it.

“That is insanitary!”

I spun around to see a look of shock on Ellen’s face. I slowly chewed as she blinked at me.

“Why do you behave like a savage?” she crossed her arms across her chest.

Her light brown hair was styled in a low bun with elaborate jewels on them. She wore a blue frilly dress and short white gloves, a fan in hand.

“I do not.” I walked around her to take the stairs.

“Believe what you will,” she sighed.

Lady Annabelle, my first cousin, once removed, and Ellen’s mother, exited the library to my surprise. It was a known fact that almost no one went to the library in this household. She took in a sharp breath, hands on her chest and eyes closed, upon seeing me. “Goodness! You sure are an eyesore! Why are you gallivanting around so early in the morning?!”

I lowered my eyes, placing my hands behind me to hide the book and the apple. “I’m sorry.”

She cleared her throat. “Don’t skip today’s dinner. There is something you must know.”

The two envelopes in her gloved hand caught my attention as my heart began hammered.What could it be? What didyoudo?

“Did you hear what I said?” she snapped her fingers in my face and I immediately rose my head, “Yes.”

“Good,” she nodded. “Do not go to the kitchens and keep your hands away from the stoves.”

I looked at her as she walked down the stairs in a light green dress, the style similar to that of Ellen’s, until she was no longer within my sight, then heaved a sigh.

I searched frantically around the library, munching on my apple. What was she looking for? Or what had she found? Nothing of importance was here, but knowing that she’d been in here made my skin crawl. She, after all, never liked to share space with me. In her own words.

I sat on a chair and closed my eyes, unconsciously rubbing my ring, which I now wore on my index finger.

A reminder of a failed betrothal. A love that slipped away. Or a figment of love, as I was the only one who was deluded we were going to get married. However, his feelings for me had remained constant, despite my efforts to seduce him. Not that I was sure I could.

The sound of a carriage caused me to sit up, and I peered through the window to see Lady Annabelle and Ellen get in with Veronica, Ellen’s eight-year-old, on her hips.

I turned around and checked the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes past nine. I was still early, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a stroll around town before work.

Hurriedly, I rushed into my room and quickly took notice that Clara had changed the curtains. Again. This was the third time this month, but, compared to the previous yellow curtains that made this room look like a child’s, the white curtains were a better match to the wallpaper.

I opened my trunk, removing my heaps of clothing, then pulled out a small bag which contained my work attire and running shoes.

On my way out, I carefully but casually glanced around, taking the stairs stealthily, hoping none of the maids were out of the kitchen or in the drawing room. Though it had never posed a problem to me, at the moment, I realised how complex and extended the staircase was.

I was going down, yet never reaching the end.

I heaved a satisfactory sigh when I caught sight of no one.

You see, there was one bedchamber on this floor which Lady Annabelle had wanted to make a guest room of sorts, and because we rarely had guests who stayed overnight, it had been redundant. It held a secret passageway, unbeknownst to anyone.

My idleness led me there one day, and it’s been mine since. Yes, I staked a claim on this room. There had to be one thing that belonged to me. Even if it was a false sense of belonging or for a short while.

I walked towards the end of the small hallway. Opening the door, I sighed at the ghastly state this room was left in. Cobwebs on the wall and an old chair against it. There was nothing else in this room. The wallpaper was ripped, partly my fault, as I had been searching for the door but, I had shoddily put another wallpaper that covered the door.

It was a poor attempt, but it did the work. Should Lady Annabelle suddenly become curious about what became of this room and inspect it, my clandestine activity will be exposed. Better yet, all my earnings from it ⎯she will love that.

I put the ripped wallpaper away, a brown door coming into view. On second thoughts, this attempt to cover it wasn’t bad. I could just say it was peeling, and I tried to fix it. After all, everyone knew I loved secluded spaces.

I opened the door and took in a deep breath as the dark tunnel came into view. What should happen if I got trapped in there?

I took out a small lamp from my bag and lighted it, then took a step inside, slowly closing the door behind me.

Calmly but hurriedly, I walked through the tunnel. The dark was cold, but it was comforting. It was kinder than most people.

Soon, the light at the end of it came into view and I blew the lights out from my lamp, rushing towards it.

I heaved a satisfactory sigh when I stepped into the gardens; no one was still in sight. This part of the garden led into a forest of trees, which led to a road. I left my lamp behind a tree, changed into my running shoes, and sprinted.

I craned my neck on my tiptoes to have a clearer view of the men brawling. This distraction was rare in this part of town, so few people were gathered.

“You owe a fifty pounds more.” The more refined man said. More refined, because from his suit and hat, one could tell he was at least educated. Or he amassed some riches. “I’m not leaving until I get it.” He shrugged off the two men, trying to hold him back.

The other man laughed. A brawny shorter man in overalls and boots. “Thought you were my butty.” He laughed again and shook his head. “The money must’ve got into your head. Eh? Bamps is still under the doctor and I’ve got my kids mitching. A butty will give me more time, but not you. You are trying to wring me dry.”

“I’m not! Five weeks is enough time for grace. I want my money by the end of the month.”

The brawny man stepped forward, but he was held back, right hand fisted. “I oughta break your nose for the nonsense you’re spewing. Ain’t you heard a word I said?”

A taller man blocked my view, so I moved around him.

“Leila! Get back to work! Now!”

I spun around, few others did the same as the shop owner’s voice was loud. And intimidating.

I walked away from the brawl and into the shop, his angry eyes still on me. He shut the door loudly, and I jumped. “Are you here to work or laze about? Go arrange the stockroom.” Mr Burton said.

I nodded and kept my head bowed. I caught sight of Sandy, who was picking at her nails, an outdated magazine on her lap. She must be his favourite, seeing that she did next to nothing every time.

The stockroom was a mess. Clothes and materials piled upon each other in careless order on a bench and the arrangement of the ones on the shelves were wrong. I took in a deep breath. This could be rearranged in an hour, so it was okay.

Standing carefully on the ladder, I removed the clothes and materials, one by one, and placed them in bags that were already open. Sandy must’ve started, but couldn’t complete it and whined to Mr Burton, knowing fully well that the man favoured her.

I liked to keep my mind blank, my face devoid of emotions, and my words empty. I wasn’t as familiar with the help of my prosthetic ⎯ it did a fine job at hiding my scars but it was fraudulent, guising as a town girl.

It was convenient that I wasn’t recognised outside. In the real world, or among certain classes.

Mr Burton called, his loud voice pushing my thoughts away.

“Yes?” I answered and got down the ladder carefully.

“Stop what you are doing and sweep outside. It’s rather dirtier today.”

I blinked at him and looked at Sandy, who was still picking at her nails, flipping through her magazine.

I sighed. “Okay.” I grabbed a broom from the storeroom and walked out. This summer hasn’t been friendly to us; it left our throats parched and lands dry as there had been no rain for the past few weeks. I wouldn’t be too surprised if I fainted from dehydration.

I swept and coughed at the first cloud of dust, but quickly collected myself. The fight earlier seemed to have subsided. They must have come to some sort of agreement.

The dressmaker’s was on the first of a six-floor brick building, right across the street, and I would occasionally twinge with envy when students, or a woman with a child, or a couple, or anyone crossed the road hither and thither. I liked to create scenarios of what they were going home to or where they were going and how their lives were.

A small bookshop was right across from us, left to the dressmaker’s and to its left was an even smaller restaurant, both sharing a building with an immense wall to separate.

I had this place memorised. Just in case I needed a place to run away to or hide.

I lifted my gaze to see the son of the bookshop owner opening the shop. His gaze met mine, and he smiled before waving at me. I was flustered by such a simple gesture, but I returned his smile and waved back. He beamed and turned back to opening the shop.

My cheeks felt warm, and I bowed my head, sweeping quickly. It was a sad reality that he wouldn’t have done that if he knew how I truly looked, or who I was.

A woman walked into the shop and I put the broom down, following her, knowing fully well that I would be called to attend to her.

It was going to be a long day.

I walked hastily and checked my wristwatch. I should get home just in time before dinner and change my attire. Lady Annabelle will have my head for what I was wearing. She’d criticise the quality but then would probably say it was fitting for me; a simple black skirt reaching my soles and a white three quartered sleeved blouse. It wasn’t so much the style but the quality that she’d criticise, for I’d bought it and a couple more at a small shop in town. I was determined to look like their class and draw as little to no attention.

Quickening my pace, I remembered I bought a newspaper and a bagel to snack on, but because of my workload today, I could not. I drew them out of my bag and put the bagel in my mouth, looking for a page to tear off the newspaper when an article caught my attention. It was written in bold: A Courtship For The Prince?

Oh. I read more and understood that this was leaked information. How could they have someone in their court leak information, or was it all a ploy? Why did this even have to be a secret?

Well.....best of luck to him.

I ripped off the page and put the rest of the newspaper in the bag.

Holding the hot bagel in the newspaper, I took a big bite and hastened my pace even more, half tripping.

Upon reaching the garden that led to the manor, I shoved the remaining piece of bagel into my mouth then choked and coughed, hitting my chest repeatedly. Once I was calm, I changed my clothes into the one I wore this morning, then stepped into the gardens, walking as calmly as I could, though no one was around, and going back home in the similar fashion I left.

Once I was inside my bedchamber with thankfully, no one was around to stop me. I stashed my bag into some clothes and into my trunk before retiring to the library to read, if possible, take a nap.

It wasn’t long before Clara opened the door and smiled upon seeing me. “Dinner is ready. Where were you during lunchtime? Taking a nap?” she walked in.

I locked my bedchamber doors sometimes in this situation, so everyone thought I didn’t want to eat or was throwing a tantrum and would ignore me. Clara was the only one that had asked and I was forced to lie to her. I trusted her, but not enough to tell her this. Out of concern for me one day, I feared she would disclose this to Lady Annabelle.

I nodded, “Yes,” and beamed at her.God, I was such a fraud.

She came closer, “Let’s go,” and linked my arm with hers as we walked out.

We walked down the stairs, and she departed, saying she had to go to the kitchen. I nodded and smiled at her while I walked to the dining table. My smile slowly fell as I saw Sir Hooley, Lady Annabelle and Ellen staring daggers at me. “You’re late,” Sir Hooley stated, his voice bored.

I swallowed, “I... I’m sorry.”

Ellen sighed as I took my seat at the far end of the table. As Ellen had said, she didn’t like me next to her, so had Lady Annabelle.

The table hosted ten chairs with, on the shorter side and longer side, one chair each and four chairs each, respectively. Sir Hooley and Lady Annabelle sat on the shorter sides, since they were the heads. I sat opposite Ellen but on the third seat away and a seat away from Sir Hooley. Lady Annabelle sat on Sir Hooley’s opposite side and I was two chairs away from her left.

Sir Hooley rang a bell, and the maids shuffled in a straight line, arranging our foods and utensils. It was quiet when they were done and we ate after he said a prayer.

“So, Leila.” Lady Annabelle began. I tensed. She was going to reprimand me for something, but I disliked not knowing what for. I looked at her.

“We have some news for you.” She looked over at her husband, and I followed suit. He smiled at her and nodded as if giving her the ‘go ahead’. A thin greying hair could be spotted on his head and an exciting gleam in his grey eyes.

What?

Ellen looked oblivious, her brows raised and eyes a little wide.

I swallowed. If they had kept it from her, then it was a good thing, right? Because she loved to thwart almost every plan. Lady Annabelle also, but she did so intelligently, while Ellen’s was more like..... a tantrum.

“We have drawn up a contract with the royal family pertaining to you. Everything was concluded yesterday.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Lady Annabelle glared at me. “Patience.” She took in a deep breath, a smile drawing on her lips. “Effective today, you are courting the prince, so your movements, unfortunately, would be restricted. But you will meet him, from time to time..... if he allows it.”

What?My heart hammered at the thought of the ordeal I had to go through with my previous courtships and especially the last one. I shook my head.

What did the royal family want with me? What could I offer? Or was Lady Annabelle trying to use me as a stepping stone?Think. Think. Think.

“Why?” I asked, my hands quivering, so I brought them to my lap, hoping no one took notice.

“Why?Why?Did you just question our decision?” Lady Annabelle asked, her eyes narrowed, a frown forming on her face.

What was wrong with knowing why I had to marry someone so...... so noteworthy?

“No, I’m sorry.” I looked away and fidgeted with my hands, my mind reeling.

“The prince? She’s going to marry the prince. Not even an earl or a viscount or someone of that sort, but the prince?” Ellen seemed to have found her voice. “Wh... why?”

“Ellen, love. This....“Lady Annabelle began, but Ellen interrupted.

“No. How did you not get that arrangement for me but her?” she placed her napkin on the table and stood up.

Sir Hooley let out a long breath. “This commotion is unnecessary. Your current husband showed interest in you for the longest time, right after your debut, andyou chose him, among many other suitors. The prince wasn’t on the list. You were keen to get married, so hold your whining and sit down so I can eat my meal in peace.”

His voice was nearly raised at the last sentence.

Ellen closed her mouth and sat, her face in defeated anger, and glared at me. I glanced away.

“Thank you.” He said and nonchalantly continued to eat his meal. We followed suit. In silence. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

What was this?