Keys and Petals

I fell into silent step behind Elestren. I gauged the woman’s approachability as we traversed the hall. Explanation of halls, corridors, and closed rooms wafted past my ears as Elestren’s pace remained stalwart. Questions formed and flitted from my thoughts, never daring to claim freedom through my lips. The madam's tour weighed heavier than Camellia’s, yet lingered in my mind not at all.  

Our parade came to abrupt halt before a door so similar to all others I pondered how anyone in the house had any certainty that they were in the place they intended. Elestren selected a key from the circlet at her wrist. I noted the varied metallic shapes and pondered the woman’s skill in choosing the appropriate one. In a breath the door opened. 

The portal revealed an office, pristine in design, and clearly intended as command center for the daily business of a household as vast as Yarrow Hart. It surprised me not in the least to discover the office directly connected to apartments I could only assume to belong to Elestren. 

Varied shades of mahogany and deep maroon occupied the room. At first glance I thought I had at last entered a room free of roses. 

Closer inspection revealed my error.

Drapes of heavy brocade, hued to the resemblance of dried cruor made it difficult to identify the tangle of roses in the woven pattern. Above ornate wainscoting the walls appeared solid crimson. Below a wood panel encased the room from rail to floor in adroitly carved labyrinths, petals blossomed from the rich mahogany. So impressed were my senses I failed to notice Elestren’s waiting hand as she gestured for me to be seated. 

I had not realized the weariness in my limbs until I lowered into the comfort of the plush velvet cushion and leaned into the arms of the damsel chair. 

Elestren herself took her place behind a mahogany desk that dominated the floor of the office.

“You were missed at dinner last night, Mistress Magareen. That is forgivable considering your long journey to Yarrow Hart.” Elestren retrieved a pair of wire frame reading glasses from the top drawer of the desk and placed them on the bridge of her aquiline nose. “Your behavior with Master Joram, and Sir Calix however can not be entirely excused. I do hope you understand.”

“Of course Madame Elestren.” In truth I failed to understand the punishable nature of our actions, yet already I recognized little would come from making myself rebellious so soon after my arrival. Joram, Calix, and rumor might well be doing enough debase to my newly attained reputation.

“Disobedience, you will find, is frowned upon in Yarrow Hart. Camellia will be assigned extra chores. The Hadowen here are tasked with cultivating behavior and manners appropriate to their station. Their invitation, and it appears yours among them, have deemed a lot chosen for their expression of talents or nature. Those you meet here in the Hart are counted as exemplary even among the Hadowen clan.”

At this I at last seemed to find the full faculty of my voice once more. “If I may, this is a topic that has piqued my curiosity since receipt of the letter requesting my presence here to Yarrow Hart.”  

My hands remained clasped in the ruffled cushion of my lap, the cadence of my voice level as I relayed the statement.

With a nod Elestren encouraged my continuance, though annoyance lingered on her expression.

“The duration of my memory has been plagued continually by the reminder of my impurity as a Hadowen, in heredity, as well as manner. For as much as I recollect I have been told there is nothing extraordinary about my person, and yet,” My hands extended in a gentle sweep of the room, “Here I am beckoned to a place of highest honor. I sit, before you, in what I surmise to be the heart of the Hadowen Hart.”

Madame Elestren’s long fingers tapped an elegant dance upon the surface of the desk. “If anything of your nature is notable, Mistress Magareen, it is your curiosity. You would do well to know it was not my desire to bring you to Yarrow Hart. I would have much preferred you to stay in the cottage with dear, naive Amalia.” 

Silence cast a shroud over the room as I pondered if Elestren’s words were the last I would receive in respect to my summons or it’s meaning.

Tenderness seemed to soften the edges of Elestren’s otherwise hard features. “Mistress Magareen, it is truly not the intention of residents nor staff of Yarrow Hart to keep secrets. That does not change that we all remain under laws and obedience to a higher power. I tell you this as a favor.” The woman’s voice softened yet again. “It is in your best interest to study these rules, not Master Joram’s, nor Sir Calix’s version of them.”

A curve akin to a smile rose to the woman’s lips. A gentle exhale slipped from her dainty nostrils. Here I recognised the once lovely cast of youth. 

“While it would be a genuine pleasure to act as your guide for the remainder of the day, you will find, when the Master is present, the house hums with a renewed energy. My schedule denies many of my desires.” Elestren excised from a drawer a small leather bound book. “However, I can offer you this.” 

Her slender fingers splayed across the supple cover of the tome as she slid it toward my edge of the desk. 

“This is all the explanation I received upon arrival to Yarrow Hart some thirty years ago. It will mean even less to you, and be excruciatingly unsatisfying to the appetite of your curiosity.” Her fingers released the book. “It is all I can afford you at this juncture of our aquaintance.”

As my own fingers closed around the tome my attention was drawn by the rattle of keys. 

“These.” Elestren dangled a circlet from her outstretched palm. “Will unlock any door you have been granted permission to enter. You will find this a far greater freedom than most are blessed with in this house.”

I lifted my gaze from these newly acquired items to meet Elestren’s eyes. The curtain of severity once more protected the fleeting display of fragile kindness, and perhaps I imagined, fear. 

“There are, of course, as with all things in Yarrow Hart, rules to follow. Any door you unlock must always, without fail, be locked behind you. That book and all that is in it, dwells within the walls of Yarrow Hart.”

I was certain my brow betrayed confusion and curiosity summoned by the guidelines. “Of course.” 

Elestren rose from her chair. “Should you choose to leave Yarrow Hart, what you commit to memory does not travel with you beyond the gates.” 

She crossed to the door in a sweeping stride. Practiced, she selected the appropriate key to unlock the door. 

Elestren opened the door for me to pass. Holding space she awaited my obedient exit. 

“You will memorize the keys on the loop you carry, though it will take time.” Elestren withdrew her keys from the lock. “There are more doors than rooms in Yarrow Hart, and as many rooms without doors.” 

“Although you will be escorted at most times, it is not the intent of the Master nor I to have any at Yarrow Hart feeling as though they are prisoners under scrutiny.” 

“Of course.” My deference in Elestren’s presence again surprised me.  

I stepped into the hallway beyond the office door. 

“You are expected at dinner. There is a map in the front pages of the book. Use it to find your way to your apartments. Mind the time. And do attempt to make use of Camellia’s skills.”

The door closed between myself and Elestren. I waited until the lock clicked into place. 

I was at once swallowed by Yarrow Hart. The hallway consumed all sound, leaving me alone in a way I could not recall experiencing prior.

“Mistress?” Camellia’s voice shook the solitude from my shoulders. 

“Camellia. Were you waiting?” The maid’s pace drove her toward me.

Camellia’s eyes averted as the space between us closed. “Not at all. I only just happened to have completed my assignments and returned to see to your or Madame Elestren’s needs.”

“I cannot speak for Madame Elestren, but I am not currently in need-” My thought cut short. 

“It is not my place to speak out of turn, Mistress, though I hesitate to allow you to wander the halls alone.” 

Though I longed to explore, I could not deny equal desire for companionship. I also guessed I would get little information from Camellia if I turned her away at this stage of our relationship, as strange as it’s development was. 

“I am far too easily lost to be without an able chaperone such as yourself, Camellia.”

The maid’s smile seemed almost as genuine as my compliment as she bowed acceptance. 

“Shall we then, Mistress.” I noticed the return to the title yet said nothing in protest. 

I followed dutifully behind the maid as we wound our tour the way we had come before the ballroom. 

Camellia’s steps seemed less expedited, though she denied any chance meetings by doubling our pace upon approach to murmuring doors. 

I opted to wait on pressing the maid for information about the power Sir Calix had plied over her. It seemed a conversation best held until we returned to the solitude of my apartments. Even then,so soon after the incident in the ballroom and the reprimand brought about, Camellia was unlikely to be generous in concession of  information. Add to this my own consternation and paranoia that even in those most personal chambers we were not alone. 

Shaking free of the visions from the morning that already seemed so long ago, my fingers pressed into the supple leather of the little book Elestren had passed to me. 

Camellia again spoke as if to read my desires. “The book is more helpful than nothing at all, but less so than a knowing guide.”

There again the accent of guile on the maid’s words. 

“Have I a knowing guide with willing conference?”

“Elestren gave you the keys required for locks and doors, but benefactors are like blossoms.” Camellia stopped at a door like all the others in the hall. “Their opening requires keys more nuanced and vital.”

The maid tipped her hand to the lock before us. Guessing her intent I attempted to unlatch the entry to my apartments.