I won’t lie, I was nervous. Terrified, even. I trailed behind the others as Cassandra led us across the garrison, pointing out the buildings and explaining their history as she went. It was a welcome distraction from having to think about meeting Violette again. Would she reject me, like everyone else had? Maybe she had already turned into an awful brat; she was already nine… would she even recognize me?! What if- I shook my head, forcing myself to listen to Cassandra’s little history lesson as we made our way to the mansion.
The mansion was located right next to the training grounds. When the current Lord Rhinestadt took over the family, he immediately set about converting a significant portion of the manor estate into a military base. He chopped off the entire west side of the estate, where the Rhinestadt Knights’ barracks already existed, and walled it off, creating a space separate from the mansion where he could train his soldiers without letting the riff-raff near his home. From there he completely renovated the area, building barracks for his new foot soldiers, expanding the old barracks into a proper military HQ, and massively expanding the training grounds. He added stables, an armoury, workshops; everything needed for an army. Eventually, Rhinestadt had a fully fledged military base right next to his home, consisting of knights, foot soldiers, cavalry, and riflemen. The man was literally building a private army right next to his house.
Of course, with all of these things one might think the area was rather cramped, but that would be to underestimate the full scale of the Rhinestadt estate. The place was enormous: with the base included, it was nearly twenty thousand acres in size. Even though the base carved a sizable chunk out of the estate, the manor, private gardens and hunting grounds still comprised the majority of it, meaning the denizens of the manor could enjoy their luxury in peace and quiet, far from the noise of the training grounds. Such as the denizen we were about to meet.
It took us nearly half an hour to make it to the manor; I don’t know how I managed to walk that same distance on the night of the sword tourney. Truth be told, I still don't remember much about that night at all, aside from the meeting with Lord Rhinestadt; when writing this account, I had to rely on recovered documents and eye witnesses in order to clearly convey what happened. However, my memory of meeting Lady Violette still remains as clear as ever.
Cassandra led us into the manor through the servant’s basement entrance. We were overwhelmed by the size of the place; even Beet Barbie stopped with her jaw hanging open, leaving me tempted to close it shut for her least a fly wander in. Not that I could really blame her though; a palace was a better noun to use than manor. It was a stunning example of Baroque architecture, a crowning jewel of the Rhinestadt Duchy - no, the Empire. The sheer amount of servants was shocking as well; there was a near constant stream of maids, butlers, footmen and gardners entering and leaving the building. It reminded me of an ant hive; they scuttled about, each following their own tasks in order to serve their queen; or in this case, their lord.
I had little time for such thoughts though, as we joined the stream of people entering the building. Cassandra marched with a strong and confident pace and the servants parted before her like sheep before a lion, offering bows or nods depending on their own status. Edward, Beet Barbie and I followed like good little chicks, doing our best to ignore one another. Edward hadn’t said a word since my name was called, which certainly didn’t help with my nerves - the gradually building tension between the three of us was likely to explode as soon as the adults were gone.
Cassandra led us through the twisting basement corridors of the manor until we stopped before a pleasant looking older woman wearing a simple black gown.
“Good afternoon,” said the woman with a friendly smile. “Good to see you again, Dame Aviont. I presume these are the new recruits?”
Cassandra returned the smile with her usual stoney glare. “Yes, that is correct Miss Camilla,” she answered, her emphasis on the word ‘Miss’ sounding more like an insult than a prefix. Even my young, socially inept self could tell something was going on between these two.
“Squires, this is Miss Camilla, head maid of the Rhinestadt estate. You will be learning from her and the other maids on how to serve Lady Violette as servants. She is a high class lady who requires a great deal of care and attention.”
“It is good to meet you, brave squires. Please refer to me as ‘Head Maid’ or ‘Mistress’ when speaking.” Miss Camilla’s eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement as they swept over the three of us, until finally settling on me.
“Oh dear. What is that dreadful thing you’re wearing?” she asked, her tone turning sharp. Despite my attempt at maintaining a cool facade, I couldn’t help but flush as she pointed to the dress I was wearing. Sure, it was a little old and worn, but dreadful was a little too far.
“Uh, um-” I stammered. “Ah, they didn’t have a uniform that fit, so they told me to keep my clothes until-”
“No,” said Miss Camilla, cutting me off. “No, no no, this simply won’t do. I can’t let you wander around the mansion in such a shabby thing. Take it off.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, shocked by her demand.
“Take it off, I said!” snapped Miss Camilla. It seemed she didn’t have a lot of patience. “This is a respectable house, and I will not let such an unsightly appearance wander around. Here, put on these instead.”
The combined weight of Miss Camilla’s pressure and the sniggering of Edward and Beet Barbie forced me to acquiesce, swapping out my dress for a classic black and white Victorian maid outfit. Of course it didn’t fit me either, inciting me to lay a curse upon society’s obsession with petite women as I squeezed the dress over my shoulders, hoping it wouldn’t tear. When I stepped out of the room I changed in, Beet Barbie didn’t even bother to hide her laughter, almost keeling over as soon as she saw me.
“Hahaha… Finally an outfit that suits you!”
I’ll admit I probably cut a ridiculous sight, with my sleeves half-way up my arms like I was an ape in cosplay. But I was used to looking ridiculous, and Beet Barbie’s ribbing was nothing new.
As for Edward, he somehow managed to look even angrier than before when he saw me, his snicker turning into an expression of shocked outrage. I don’t know what was so upsetting to him about my change of clothes; maybe he suddenly felt like he had been defeated by a ‘maid’.
Cassandra, on the other hand, gave me a surprisingly interested look that raised my hackles when I saw it. I wasn’t sure what idea she was cooking up, but her scheming expression gave me goosebumps, so I tried to ignore it as best I could.
I could tell Miss Camilla wasn’t entirely satisfied by my new clothes, but apparently it was better than before since her expression reverted back to the original, friendly smile.
“Now, before we go to meet the lady, there are some rules I must go over. Proper etiquette will be taught to you later, but to avoid offending Lord Rhinestadt you must be aware of these things. Firstly, speak only when spoken to. You are not there to engage in conversation; only to answer any questions you may be asked. Every response must be accompanied by a ‘My Lady’ or ‘My Lord’. Secondly, do not approach or look directly at Lady Violette, unless given express permission by Lord Rhinestadt. Proper distance must be maintained at all times, especially for men,” said Miss Camilla, with a pointed glare at Edward.
“Lastly, but by far most important: do not engage with Lady Violette beyond what is necessary. This is not a rule you will find written in any etiquette book, but Lord Rhinestadt has made it explicitly clear that servants are not to build any kind of personal relationship with their masters. You are here to do a job, nothing more.”
Miss Camilla sighed as she was greeted by three confused expressions, unsure of what constituted a personal relationship.
“Four years ago, a maid tried to make friends with Lady Violette by making unnecessary conversation with her… not to mention offering her sweets outside of meal hours. The maid was from a fairly well off vassal house… but when Lord Rhinestadt found out, he had her fired without references. She was sent home, labelled as an unmanageable woman and her future marriage prospects were destroyed. Last I had heard, her family sold her off to a wealthy commoner.”
Beet Barbie gasped, her expression full of horror while Edward grimaced. I couldn’t help but frown myself as I grasped the implications of what Miss Camilla was actually saying… no wonder Violette turned into such a character. How was anyone expected to grow into a well adjusted adult if they were starved of companionship their entire life?
“Do you understand? Your family connections, if you have any, will not help you if you anger Lord Rhinestadt. The best way to do that is to act as a servant should. Understood?”
We all nodded hurriedly. Satisfied that we were sufficiently spooked by her tale, Miss Camilla turned and led us up the stairs and onto the first floor. I was yet again amazed by the complexity of the place; the manor was built in a way that sought to hide servants and their passage as much as possible. Tiny passageways hid behind walls and each staircase had its own, hidden staircase for the servants to traverse. Nearly every major room had a secret door that the servants used, in order to minimize their appearance as much as possible. It was almost like there were two mansions inside the building; every corridor and room duplicated by a tiny passageway hidden between the walls. One grandiose and beautiful, with rich blue carpets and dark oak walls for the mansion owners, and the other tiny and dingy for the servants to squeeze past each other between cobwebs and stone walls.
I had to wonder just how much the Rhinestadt family hated those below them in order to go to such lengths to hide them.
Miss Camilla led us through the narrow, twisting servant passages and up several flights of narrow spiral staircases, squeezing past maids and butlers as we navigated the dimly lit tunnels. After what felt like half an hour of wandering, we reached a small, dark oak door that Miss Camilla pushed open to reveal an enormous, empty hallway.
It was richly decorated with a beautifully painted ceiling and filled with old fashioned portraits of the Rhinestadt lineage, complimented by a variety of decorative armours that stood before enormous windows on the opposing wall. I turned around to see the door we had just stepped through disappear perfectly into the wooden panelling; if I didn’t know it was there, I would have never noticed.
“This way,” said Miss Camilla, indicating for us to follow.
It was rather surreal walking down this enormous empty corridor; despite the many different people we had just been squeezing past in the passageways, the manor suddenly felt empty. Enormous, empty, and ostentatious. A strangely uncomfortable feeling welled up in my throat as we walked; a feeling of profound confusion, combined with anger and bitterness. It all felt so… so wasteful. What was the point of all this space? All this wealth and power? These long, empty hallways that hardly anyone walked through? These empty vases that were only ever looked at when they were being dusted? The faces of long dead men staring down at us with condescending gazes?
It was… loneliness. A profound feeling of loneliness overwhelmed me as we walked through a house that held no love, no laughter, no true character to call its own. This place was nothing but a museum that nobody visited.
I could not shake that feeling even as we came to a halt before a large double door. Miss Camilla stepped forward and smartly rapped on the door.
“My Lady, it’s Miss Camilla. I have brought your new servants. May we enter?”
A silence followed, drawn out as I could hear the beating of my own heart. It felt so loud I was sure the others could hear it, but at that moment I no longer cared. I was here. I was finally… here. My fight for the last two years had finally borne fruit… even if I was no longer sure I wanted to be here.
“...Enter.”
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