The woman’s name was Miene.  Olive found this out while giving her a tour of the manor.  She didn’t speak much, just took in everything with a keen silence.  When the tour was concluded, Miene announced that she’d start by taking a bath and then heading into the market to get ingredients for the next few day’s worth of meals.  Assuming, of course, that Olive had the money for her to do so with.

“Oh yes, here,” Olive said, hastily pulling out the pouch.  “Technically this is your salary for a week, but it’s all I have on me.  Keep track of expenses and I’ll reimburse you.”

Miene quickly counted the money and slipped a handful of coins into her own pouch.  She handed the rest back to Olive.

“I don’t want to be walking around with this much,” she said.  “Do you need anything from me before I leave?  I’ll be gone until just before supper, I expect.”

“No, I can take care of myself until then.”

Miene seemed impressed, which was a depressingly low bar, Olive thought.  But she shouldn’t be surprised.  Cariun barely seemed capable of feeding himself, so clearly the nobility in this world lacked some basic life skills.  Still, this all seemed promising.  She watched Miene vanish into the servant’s quarters to clean up.  If the woman intended to scam her, she would have taken all the money and vanished with it.  Certainly, she could still simply walk out with the money and not return, but this was a loss Olive could tolerate.

At least… she hoped it was.  She really didn’t have any idea how the currency here compared to back home.

As it turned out, she had nothing to fear.  Miene returned just as she’d promised.  She had a new dress on and carried a basket of fresh food.  Olive came to see what all she bought as Miene unloaded it in the kitchen.

“Noble ladies don’t loiter around the kitchen unless they’re here to criticize,” Miene commented as she hung up a few bundles of herbs from the overhead beams.

“I’m curious,” Olive replied.  “And very bored.  Can I… help with dinner?”

“Of course.  Here.  Take care of this.”

And to Olive’s dismay, Miene handed her a whole chicken, feathers and all.  Tentatively, Olive had to admit she had no idea what to do with it, and while Miene raised an eyebrow she made no further comment.  Instead, she led Olive to the work table outside and showed her how to pull the feathers off.  It wasn’t as bad as she expected.  Most of the blood was already drained and it wasn’t too dissimilar from working with a whole chicken bought at the grocery store.

“I don’t know what you are,” Miene finally said, when she came back to check how the work was progressing.  “You’re not a commoner but you’re not a noble, either.”

“Back home I was a scholar,” Olive grunted, ripping out another handful of feathers.  “I was in university and had spent most of my life preparing for that.”

“Oh.  I should have guessed that,” Miene said sheepishly.  “But then - why did you wind up with one of the princes instead of the other scholars in the city?  They take care of their own.”

“Bad luck.  Really bad luck.”

Miene was polite enough to not pry further.  She just told Olive to cut out the scrap meat when she was done.  The meat around the legs and wings that wouldn’t be suitable for larger dishes.  She’d be inside preparing the rest of the stew.

That, Olive thought, sounded delicious.  After nothing but bread and jam the prospect of a big bowl of stew was delightful.

Cariun, unfortunately, wasn’t so grateful.

Olive didn’t tell him that she had hired a maid when he returned.  He could find out on his own, she thought, just like he seemingly expected her to figure everything out on her own.  Miene didn’t make any effort to introduce herself, either, as Olive had told her that she was Olive’s maid, not his.  Obviously that would change in a hurry if Cariun made demands of her time, seeing as he was the one actually paying her, but Olive wanted to at least try to establish Miene as her maid and her maid only first.

If he realized that there was someone else in the house before dinner, he didn’t comment on it.  Perhaps he didn’t.  He returned home, Olive gave him a cursory greeting where he confirmed he’d posted the notice, and then he returned to his room.  When he came down for dinner, he only paused at the entrance to the dining room and stared for a brief moment at the table, already set with bowls.

Then he seated himself.  He didn’t ask what was happening.  He didn’t comment when Miene brought out the stew and served it.  He only watched her from the corner of his vision, his amber eyes narrowed and tracking her every movement.  Olive fretted.  She struggled not to show it.  Miene was her maid and she already felt protective of her.  She’d brought the woman here.  Olive was not going to tolerate Cariun being shitty towards her.

But Cariun said nothing until the woman was done serving and had stepped back to excuse herself.  Olive had no idea if she knew proper etiquette or was just making it up as she went.  Probably the latter, she thought.  She’d need to introduce Miene to Lylle as soon as possible.

“What is this?” Cariun asked, finally breaking the tense silence.

Olive immediately wished he’d stayed quiet.  He sounded offended.

“It’s… stew,” Miene replied with confusion.

“Stew.”

His tone was flat with disapproval.  Olive felt a seed of anger sprout in her heart.  But before she could say anything, Miene kept talking.

“What’s wrong with stew?” Miene asked.

“It’s… commoner fare.”

“Then hire a fancy cook.  Until then, you’re getting the meals I learned to prepare.  Your Highness.”

She briskly turned and walked away.  His title was clearly added as an afterthought, hastily tacked on not because she was being rude, but because she simply wasn’t used to addressing people like Cariun.  That, Olive thought, was something the two of them had in common.  She  was starting to like Miene more and more by the minute.

“Where did you find her?” the prince asked hardly before she was out of the room.

“I’m not sure, exactly.  It’s not like your world has street signs.”

It took a moment for him to understand what she was implying.

“Did you hire a beggar?” he asked incredulously.  “Off the street?”

“Yes.  Is there a problem?”

“She is not qualified-” he began slowly, but Olive quickly cut him off.

“She’s not qualified to serve a prince, yes, I understand that.  But she’s not your maid.  She’s mine.  And last I checked, I don’t have any titles.”

He stared at her a moment incredulously and then, surprisingly, he burst out laughing.  It was a sharp, cruel laugh, but it didn’t seem directed at her or Miene.  He was amused that someone would so blatantly defy the societal rules that had dictated his life since birth.  Then he quickly fell silent, his expression turning grim once more.  He sipped at the stew.

“This won’t work out like you think it will,” he said ominously.  “You’re going to get her killed.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” Olive muttered.

Cariun stood abruptly.  Startled, Olive glanced up at him.  His expression had darkened with an ugly, uncontrolled rage.  With one quick movement, he swept his bowl from the table and onto the floor, where it shattered.  The noise made Olive flinch and she stared at him, frozen with fear, too shocked to speak.  He didn’t give her an opportunity to ask what she’d done wrong, either.  He turned and quickly left, slamming the door to the dining room behind him.

The ring must have translated that badly, Olive thought. That was the only thing she could think of, as she helped Miene clean up the mess with trembling hands.  And much later, when she was in her bed, she realized that perhaps it wasn’t the ring to blame.  Perhaps it had translated exactly as it was said, and that was the problem.

This was a world without a sun, after all, with a tyrant controlling the sunlight.