“I can explain,” I started. But Mara raised a bony finger to shush me. She dabbed her lips with her silk napkin before turning to Marielle. 

Athenais, Georgina and Olympia delighted in the spectacle. When we were younger, my relationship with my stepsisters oscillated between innocence and cruelty. 

They regarded me as an odd version of a human. Some days they would trace the sharp, fuzzy points of my ears with envy, and others, they would shriek as I walked by them in the castle, as if I were a monstrous creature. Growing up, I had only aspired to be like them. I wished to have hair as dark as night and skin as white as milk. But above all else, I wished I was one of Duke Franco’s true-born daughters. 

As we grew older, and as I spent more time assisting Duke Franco with the affairs of the kingdom, my sisters came to fear and despise me equally. I could tell by the way they whispered sourly when we were in the same room, and by the little plots they devised to make my life a living hell. The tepid water in my washbasin, my sheets that were rarely replaced, and even one time, the shards of crushed glass I found sprinkled in my supper. 

“Send her back to where she comes from, Mama!” Georgina exclaimed, staring at me viciously. 

“Hush, silly. If your father could do that, he would have long ago,” Mara answered, avoiding my gaze. We both knew that wasn’t true at all. It wasn’t that Franco couldn’t send me back, it was that he didn’t want to. Why send someone back when you can use them to execute a murder? 

“Now,” Mara continued, “tell us what happened, Marielle.” 

I opened my mouth to answer but reminded myself that the old Tatiana, the one that existed before Franco sent me to my death, would have meekly accepted to be disciplined for something she hadn’t done, hoping that displaying obedience would garner favor. 

The corners of Marielle’s lips twitched, as she exposed the shallow scratches on her neck. “I was heading to your chambers, Your Grace, to make sure the chambermaids had freshened up your sheets. That’s when Tatiana stormed outside of her bedroom. I noticed that she was already enraged, but it was too late. She pounced on me!”

“I did no such thing!” I couldn’t help but defend myself. “Marielle walked into my bedroom and…” I stopped before revealing anymore. I couldn’t say anything about the medallion, and Marielle knew it. I had to let her lie, or risk my mother’s heirloom being confiscated.

“So you have nothing to say for your defense?” Mara narrowed her eyes at me like a praying mantis about to enjoy a delightful meal. On her best days, Mara saw me as a dancing bear, a beast trained to perform tricks for human enjoyment. On her worst days, well… I was about to find out. 

I shook my head and forced myself to look down and ignore Marielle’s victorious gaze, burning the back of my neck.

Mara turned to my step-sisters. “Girls, what should her punishment be?”

“Marielle should do the same to her!” Georgina clapped in excitement. 

“Or I can!” Athenais, the eldest and cruelest of the three, retorted.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Mara asked her youngest daughter. Olympia stopped reaching for a plump honey cake to look at her mother with eyes as wide as her tea saucer. Athenais was cold and calculated, Georgina vicious and childish, but Olympia was mostly gentle. Her mother hated that in her. 

I saw an opportunity to avoid my sentence and looked into Olympia’s eyes as I stated, “May I remind you that I am to appear at King Hughes’ court tomorrow? What will he think of our family if he sees scratch marks on my cheeks?”

I could tell that Mara wanted to hurl her silver spoon at me for being right. And she might have, if not for Duke Franco pushing sharply past the carved wooden doors to the Sun Room. No doubt looking for me. 

Despite myself, I sighed in relief. Spending the rest of the day working with him would make today feel strangely normal. Mara regained composure and forced a smile. 

“Husband,” she started. The Duke raised a gloved hand to interrupt her. He didn’t appreciate his work getting delayed and liked dealing with what he called “feminine affairs” even less. 

“Tatiana should be in my office. Unless you are sharing breakfast with her, she has no business being here.” 

Mara stood up. “Your protege has struck one of our maids.” She gestured to Marielle. “If this goes unpunished, who knows what she will do next?”

“Is this true?” Franco’s voice resounded through the room. I recoiled from his tone and nodded regretfully. Despite my new opinion of Franco, years of abuse had left their toll. I felt like the helpless child who used to cry in her bedroom, after failing one of the myriad of tests he used to put me through. 

Franco looked harshly at Marielle. “What were your tasks today?”

“Today is laundry day, Your Grace.” Marielle managed to utter in a fawning tone. 

“Very well. Tatiana will carry your load for today, before reporting to my office later this afternoon.” 

And without another glance at any of us, he exited, his sword clanking at his belt. 

The small child in me wished for the Duke to take my defense, for him to realize the injustice of the situation. Despite yesterday’s shock, my old habits were hard to shake off. Still, I knew that I needed to be my own best ally rather than vying for the Duke’s love. 

I had always felt more at home in the servants’ quarters than I did in my own. After all, despite what Franco wanted everyone to believe, I was a servant myself. I walked down the labyrinth of corridors, past the kitchens, drinking in the smells of freshly baked breads. I was excited to see Louise, the castle’s laundress. As far as I could remember, she had always been at the castle, moving up the servant’s ranks with her clever smile and street smarts. When we were younger, we would huddle in bed, dreaming of dashing princes sweeping us off our feet. 

“What did you do now?” Louise smiled as I reached the courtyard.

I grabbed the basket of dirty clothes she shoved into my arms and sighed. “I’m not even sure anymore, Louise.” 

We both shrugged the past insults and injuries away and got to work, pounding the laundry in a wooden trough filled with lye. 

After an hour of tedious work, I allowed myself to look up. I breathed in the warm air, the sharp smell of lye biting the back of my tongue. Beyond the castle gates, the Ceres grove was thick with snowy white spring flowers, glimmering in the sun. Calling me. I felt a tingle in my toes as I stepped eagerly towards the opened gates. They were so close I could almost feel the rusted iron beneath my fingers. Could I just step outside and be free? What would my life look like then?