A Dove’s Tale: Chapter 1
“You will be in charge of the library,” the head maid stated as I followed her down the hall. “Dusting, polishing, sweeping, mopping, window washing — whatever needs to be done.” We reached a grand wooden door, carved with intricate floral designs. “Through here,” she said, pushing the door open.
“It’s beautiful,” I gasped, stepping in after her. Bookshelves lined the walls of the massive room from floor to ceiling. A few free-standing shelves in the center of the room divided the floor space into sections, each with their own ornate sofas, chairs, and coffee tables. One large chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, with several smaller chandeliers radiating around the centerpiece. The shelves along the southern wall wrapped around windows, some small, some large, at varying heights but symmetrically aligned and all drawing the eye toward a large alcove in the exact center. Here, a window stretched from floor to ceiling, the uppermost part made up of stained glass depicting red roses, while the window seat at the bottom afforded a wonderful view of the palace’s rose gardens. Several rugs around the room, imitating roses in bloom, completed the overall effect.
“Prince Chevalier’s personal library is through this door,” the older woman continued, unaffected by the grandeur around her as she led me to a much more ordinary wooden door hidden behind a free-standing shelf. “It used to be a storage room, but the prince has taken it over, and there’s no telling princes what they can and can’t do — especially Prince Chevalier.” This room was much less ornate but no less impressive, as bookshelves again lined all the walls from floor to ceiling. Several boxes were pushed up against the back wall, all overflowing with more books, and a single chair accompanied by a small table and lamp in the center of the room provided the only decor. “You will be in charge of this as well. Questions?”
I shook my head as I looked around. “No, I don’t think so. Maintaining all of this will definitely keep me busy.”
“Well then, have at it and good luck. If you need me, check the kitchens or ask around.” She turned on her heel and left me alone.
Good luck? What did she mean by that?
As beautiful as the library was, it had clearly been neglected for a while. Before I knew it, the morning had gone and noon had come. I set down my dust rag and straightened up, surveying my work. The main room was now filled with the sweet smell of wood polish and, although my careful dusting may not be noticeable at a casual first glance, I could see the difference and was pleased.
The head maid informed me that my lunch break would be from noon to one o’clock, but she hadn’t told me that I had to stay in the kitchens with the rest of the staff for the entirety of that time. I ate quickly and hurried back to the library to take advantage of that beautiful alcove and a good book until one o’clock came. It wasn’t often that I got the chance to read. Being assigned to the library was a dream come true.
At one o’clock, I resumed my dusting, this time in the back room. The sheer number of books in Prince Chevalier’s private collection was astounding. Most of them were true literary works of art, too, instead of the official documents and records that took precedence in the main library. Prince Chevalier had a reputation for being cruel, cold, and calculating, but I’d never heard that he was a book lover. I’d heard him called the Brutal Beast and the Bloody Tiger, and yet his collection spanned all genres, including romance and humor. In fact, it seemed that romance predominated. He’d organized the shelves into distinct categories, so it was fairly easy to make that determination. Maybe people had misjudged him. I could sympathize with that all too well. Gossip and rumor could twist a person’s image into something completely different from the truth. Well, I would reserve judgment until I met him. Strange to think I would meet a prince, but this was his library, and clearly he enjoyed reading. We were bound to cross paths eventually.
I hadn’t seen a single person all day, but I didn’t mind. I had worked a lot of different jobs, and I preferred solitude. It would be a nice change, just having one job. That was just one perk of working in the palace. The pay was significantly better than anything down in the village or the neighboring town, and I had negotiated consistent hours, too. Most of the other servants were on call twenty-four hours a day since they lived here. I even considered the long walk from my house to the palace to be a benefit, especially since my assignment would keep me inside most of the day.
It was about two thirty when a cold, hard voice interrupted my quiet humming.
“Get out.”
I jumped and turned around, startled. There in the open doorway stood a tall blonde man with the unmistakable air and dress of nobility and the iciest blue eyes I had ever seen. He wore exquisitely tailored black pants, a black shirt and vest with white accents and gold fastenings, high-top black boots, and a long, flowing, multi-layered white cloak. The cloak by itself was magnificent, decorated with gold vines snaking up from his ankles to his waist, a black lining between the first and second layers, and a black fur ruff around the collar. That, combined with a pair of black gloves and a conspicuous sword belted about his waist, completed the overall effect of power and aristocracy.
“Do not speak to the royals,” the head maid had warned me. “Servants are to be neither seen nor heard.”
It was not in my nature to keep quiet, but years of admonitions to watch my tongue silenced any response. The command was rude, but if my assumption was correct, this was Prince Chevalier. It was not my place to question him.
“You have something to say to me?” he asked, an unmistakable threat in his voice.
It probably wasn’t my place to make direct eye contact, either. I forced myself to drop his gaze and offer a meek response. “No, your highness.”
“A wise decision,” he said with a mocking smirk. He selected a book and seated himself in the chair while I made a quick exit.
“Shut the door,” he commanded as I stepped out into the main library. I complied, letting out a relieved sigh only after the latch clicked behind me.
Maybe the rumors were true. I had only held that icy blue gaze for a few seconds, but remembering it made me shudder. I had felt as insignificant as an ant under that stare, and I had the distinct impression that he would have no qualms about using that sword to slice me down at a moment’s notice. However, as disturbing and distasteful as those few seconds had been, I still had a job to do. There was plenty more work in the main library. Sweeping would probably be a good idea after all the dusting I did. I got back to work, considering how I would handle Prince Chevalier’s library. He may have been rude, but I could sympathize with the need for privacy while reading. I would just have to work around him. If he kept a consistent schedule, I could just plan on cleaning his library while he was elsewhere. First thing in the morning would probably be a safe bet.
The afternoon was just as quiet as the morning. I finished sweeping and moved on to mopping, back to humming. I rarely noticed it unless somebody pointed it out, but I had a habit of humming while I worked. It helped to pass the time. Before I knew it, the mopping was done and the clean smell of soap had mixed with the wood polish to increase my satisfaction. I looked over at the clock: four thirty. Only a half hour left before I finished for the day. Anything I started now would just have to be completed tomorrow. Polishing. There was a lot of brass and gold, and I could imagine the room sparkling when I was through. But Prince Chevalier’s door opened and cut my imaginings short.
“Maid,” he called sharply. His cold voice sent a chill down my spine, even before I met his icy glare. He spun on his heel and disappeared back into his library. I pushed away my nerves and followed him. He was back in his chair with his book in hand when I arrived.
“Yes, your highness?” I asked politely.
“Bring me some tea,” he said, not even looking up from the book at me.
“Of course, your highness. Would you like any cream or sugar?”
His eyes snapped up to my face. I suddenly wished I hadn’t asked. “What do you think?” The question was somehow mocking and threatening.
I swallowed back a sharp retort and spoke the words I thought were most appropriate. “I couldn’t presume to say, your highness.”
His lips curved up into a mocking smirk again. “Maybe you aren’t as foolish as you look, simpleton. Neither.”
I was supposed to ignore the insults and fetch his tea. That was the duty of a good little maid. But although I could tolerate his haughty contempt, I couldn’t tolerate his choice of words. “I don’t appreciate being insulted, your highness,” I said coolly, meeting his gaze defiantly.
“Oh?” His eyes narrowed, and the smirk vanished. “You’re new here, so I’ll give you one chance to rephrase.” He closed the book and set it on the end table next to him, and although he remained seated, I could all too easily envision him pouncing on me and tearing me apart. Still, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from getting into worse trouble. But I wasn’t about to retract my statement.
“I apologize if I was out of line, your highness,” I said carefully, that little ‘if’ qualifying my response to assuage his anger and still provide no admission of guilt. “I’ll be back in a moment with your tea.”
I turned back to the door, but his hand came from behind and pushed it shut before I could leave. He grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around to face him. My heart started pounding as he towered over me, his frigid expression sending a shiver through me.
“That was your chance,” he said, his voice low and threatening. I backed away from him involuntarily, but he had me trapped between him and the door. He slid a finger under my chin and tilted it up. “Now how shall I dispose of you?” he sneered.
I had made a mistake. The rumors were true. He really was going to kill me — unless I could talk my way out of this somehow. I swallowed hard, thinking through what I’d heard and what I now knew of him. What would appeal to him?
His finger slid down to my neck, tracing back and forth around it. “Go on. Try me,” he teased condescendingly, as if in answer to my thoughts.
“Wouldn’t it be a waste to dirty your hands because of me, your highness?” I asked quietly.
“There are plenty of ways to get rid of you without making a mess,” he said, resting all five fingers on my throat and deliberately sliding them around until his palm was flat on my neck. “Try again.” Surely he could feel my racing pulse, keeping time with my racing thoughts. This may be the last chance he was giving me.
“I’ll be of no use to you if I’m dead, your highness.”
His fingers didn’t tighten.
“And what use do I have for a maid who doesn’t know her place?” he asked. This was my opportunity.
“I’m sure you can think of something, your highness.”
He smirked again, and his fingers slid up my neck to either side of my jaw, tilting my face up and preventing me from looking away. “You really are foolish. But even a fool can serve a purpose.” He released me and stepped back. “My tea.”
I felt shaky all over, but I tried to keep my voice calm and cool to match his. “Yes, your highness.”
The kitchens were busy as cooks prepped food on the marble countertops, fired up the brick ovens, pulled metal pots and pans down from hooks in the ceiling, and somehow managed not to trip each other all at the same time. It would be several hours until dinner, but in a palace this large, even a simple meal was an extravagant affair. I dodged in and out of the traffic toward the cabinets where teapots and silverware were kept, selecting an ornate silver tray with floral designs about its edges and a white porcelain tea set dressed in exquisitely painted red roses. I added boiling water from an already prepared kettle to the tea leaves and carefully carried the beautiful but fragile load back to the library. It was almost five o’clock. If he wanted more than one cup, he would have to pour it himself. I hesitated before I let myself into his library, taking a deep breath to try to steady my nerves. He was reading again and didn’t look up as I set the tray on the table, pouring him a cup.
“Will there be anything else before I go, your highness?”
“Go?” He looked up from his book again, his piercing blue eyes fastening on mine. “I haven’t dismissed you.”
My heart was quaking, but I wasn’t going to let him stop me. “I have an arrangement with the head maid, your highness. I leave at five o’clock.”
He lifted the teacup to his lips languidly. “We’ll see about that. I only need the cup. Take the rest back and go.”
“Thank you, your highness. Goodnight.”
We’ll see about that, huh? Well, he’d see about it. And he’d soon find out that I wasn’t going to be pushed around like a spineless idiot. He was a frightening man, but I wouldn’t stay late for anybody.
