Life really sucks. I think for probably the hundredth time today as I hang the last of the princes clothes out to dry. It had taken me hours to finish all of it and because of that I didn’t have time to do any of the other laundry.

I am so screwed. I spare a quick glance at the sky and scowl in dismay. It's already around three in the afternoon way past the prime time to dry clothes and I have no idea what to do. Will the clothes even dry? What do I do if they don’t? Honestly I have no idea.

All I know is that I have a lot more loads to do and no time left to finish them. Today is the day I finally die. Either the queen is going to kill me for not washing her clothes in time or the Head Miss will do it for her.

The queen wouldn’t want to get her hands dirty anyway. I think to myself as I run my hands frustratedly through my hair. I am so irritated that I don’t even realize when someone approaches me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

I jump three feet in the air at the contact and nearly scream like a little girl. A light laugh comes from beside me and I turn my head to glare angrily at the intruder who so rudely disturbed my thoughts.

The intruder just gives me a kind smile and I visibly relax as recognition fills me. It's one of my older sisters, Clementine. Thankfully she is one of my more understanding siblings and someone I actually enjoy the company of, otherwise things may have turned sour. Which is something I am really not in the mood for right now.

She smiles at me again and I dip my head in acknowledgement. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She tells me and I shoot her a confident look that is dripping with challenge. “Fine, maybe I did a little. It’s one of my greatest joys in this world.” She jokes and I just roll my eyes at her.

“So, how's the sign language classes going?” She asks and I purse my lips at her. “That bad huh?” She asks and I shoot her the middle finger. “Well it's nice to know you're learning something.” She says and I roll my eyes at her.

Why are you here? I clumsily ask her in the strange hand flapping language that she insists I learn. She laughs loudly at my fumbling motions and I can't help but smile in turn.

“Can’t a sister talk to her brother without needing a reason?” She asks and I raise one eyebrow at her. “Fine, you got me. The queen requested one of her gowns. I heard that you were on laundry duty for the next few weeks so I came to get it.”

I balk at her words and swallow hard. Yup, totally fucked.

“You didn’t do it did you?” She sighs and I nod my head slowly. “What am I going to do with you, Dill?” She groans at me and I scowl. I try to tell her with my eyes just how horrible my situation is, but only get another laugh in response.

“I know, I know. Woe is me, woe is me. Life is so hard, I have to do the laundry.” She mocks me and I flip her off again. “Language, Dill.” She scolds and I roll my eyes indignantly. “Look, if you apologize to me I might just help you.”

At the word help my eyebrows shoot up and I give her a hopeful look.

“I said apologize. Begging would also be acceptable.” She adds that last part as if it were a forethought, but it doesn’t fool me one bit. I know her better than anyone, which is why I know that getting me to beg her for help was her aim all along.

I glare at her sharply, but she just stands there expectantly, not at all fazed by my look. Damn it all, I need help. I think before dropping to my knees and bringing my hands up above my head in a pleading gesture. Please, please, please. I beg with my eyes and even add in a bit of my helpless puppy dog look.

“The knees are a nice touch, though I would have preferred you groveled at my feet.” She says a bit boredly and my eyes harden at her words. “Get up. I’ll help you, but you're going to have to be very quick.” She tells me and I silently thank every god known to man for this miracle.

“First let me just say that this is your problem so I will not help you wash the dress and secondly I will not magic the thing dry for you. You know what father has to say about us doing that sort of thing anyway." Her stern words cut deep and I have to refrain from flinching at the reminder.

"Now having said that, I will lend you my help. I’ll go keep the queen occupied while you go down to the scullery room and find the dress. When you do, wash it as fast as you can then bring it down to the furnaces. Hang it up near the furnace, but don’t let the fabric touch the steel.” She tells me and I nod exuberantly at her words. “The dress she wants is dark blue with silver embroidery and small black gemstones that twinkle in the sunlight. You can’t miss it.”

I am ready to walk away and start on her plan when she opens her mouth again. “You have thirty minutes tops. So you better run like death is on your heels, because if the Queen doesn’t get her dress you better bet it will be.” She finishes and I leap into action.

My feet barely touch the floor as I retrace the long winding path I had taken this morning and barrel into the scullery room, all the while counting down the minutes I have left.

Twenty five. I think as I find the dress and practically throw it into the water basin. Twenty. I count as I pull the sopping piece of fabric from the water and begin racing for the incinerator, ringing the fabric out as best I can while running like my life depends on it.

Fifteen. I groan as I grab the nearest chair and pull it close to the furnace.

Ten. I chant in my head as I squeeze the still very wet dress between one hand.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Out of time. My brain chants as I gaze miserably at the damp dress which hangs limply across the chair I hung it on, like some type of dead animal.

Well shit.