White Aprons

Chapter 2

Since I am one of the younger maids, only 15, I am usually put on dusting duty. Dusting duty, some maids say, is the worst assignment there possibly is. I, on the other hand, am completely fine with it. Then again, I am so used to it. But you'd be surprised what you can learn on dusting duty.

Seeing mother and I travel so often with little money, I have had no education. No formal education, anyway. And mother, usually being assigned many duties, has no time to teach me. I have always had to rely on what I hear and see. The world around you is more educational than you may think. Especially if you're a maid. And especially if you're a maid on dusting duty.

You've probably heard that around their masters, maids are quiet and obeying and always keep their head down. You've also probably heard that this is the perfect way to pick up bits of conversation, especially since masters and guests completely ignore a maid's presence. This, though hurtful at times, is quite useful at others. And after a day's work, all the maids return to their quarters to gossip about all the news they have gathered. It is quite fun to listen to the squabbles of the wealthy. It is my entertainment of the day, in fact.

In case you didn't know, dusting duty is explained completely in its title. All you do, is grab one of those big feather dusters, and dust a room top to bottom. You really got to be careful though, because maids may have a keen sense of hearing, but masters got eyes like a hawk. If you're not careful, you constantly hear, 'You missed a spot!' coming out of your master's mouth. Sometimes, I think they say it just for the hell of it. I really don't understand them sometimes.

I begin to descend down the cool marble staircase to the library, dragging my hand along the golden spiral banister as I go. I pass Patrice, who is waxing the left side of the stairs, and I gingerly hop to the the right and give her a quick smile as I continue toward the library.

I continue down the long hallway and finally reach the massive wooden doors engraved with beautiful etchings of flowers and birds. I run my fingers over them for a moment, thinking of how long it took the artists to engrave them. It must have taken a long time, with loads of effort. Their hands must still be tired.

I push open the tall doors and walk through the threshold, my footsteps echoing in the grand room. The library is.... Beautiful. I almost gasp. Books of all colors line the wall and scatter the fine oak tables. The air feels thick and moist on my skin and I have to take deep breaths to breathe properly. I walk over to one of the many stained-glass windows and push it out. I stand there for a moment just breathing in fresh cool air. I close my eyes and remember the mountains and smile. There was something quite beautiful about living and working there.

I hear voices coming from the hallway, muffled by the thick wood. I snap out of my trance and tighten the apron around my waist. I pull out my feather duster and begin to go along through the shelves, dusting each cover carefully. I hear the humongous doors creak open and I quickly duck behind one of the farther back shelves, not wanting to be assigned anything else. I expect to hear the voices of snooty adults striding around in their fancy clothing, but instead hear that of a child. I peek through the dusty books and look for who had come in. 

I see a small girl with blonde curls cascading down to her shoulders, bouncing as she skips along. Her skin is a milky white and her cheeks look like a winter fire just beginning to softly burn. Her eyes are a pool of deep blue that would tempt someone to dip their toes into the deepness of it. Her pink arms clutch a plush stuffed animal bunny close to her chest. So that must be who she was talking to.

I laugh quietly to myself. She must be only seven or eight and she's already prettier than me. I duck back behind the shelf and get back to dusting as she takes a seat on a plush chair that belongs to the table closest to me. I attempt to scoot farther away to the next shelf, but my shoulder accidentally brushes a book and it drops hard to the floor, making a big booming echo in the grand room. I freeze, but there is no sound coming from the other side of the shelf. So I crouch low and pick up the book in my hands and carefully slide it back into place. I take a quick peek around the shelf and stumble backwards as I find the small girl standing right before me. She eyes me suspiciously with those blue eyes of hers and I stare back at her with my hazel ones. She clutches her toy tighter and opens her mouth to speak but quickly thinks better of it. The castle children aren't aloud to talk to the servants. They are taught to ignore all those of lesser wealth and respect.

We kind of just stand there blinking, not knowing what to do. Finally, after what seems like hours, I give her a nod and briskly walk past her. She stares after me with those sweet little eyes again, and I begin to envy her. She has the life I never had. She has everything. Every little thing. Whatever she wants she gets. All she has to do is ring a bell or maybe even just blink. I slam the door behind me in my small cloud of anger, and quickly regret it. I go back and then realize I don't know why I did, so I turn around again and continue down the great hall, feeling bad for the artists and all their hard work in those engravings.

I pass Patrice again, who is now almost on the last step of the staircase, and I throw her a quick smile. Once I reach mother and I's quarters, I plop down onto the bed and think of how disappointed she will be if that castle girl tells her parents of our encounter and we have to move to yet another place of work. I slap my hand to my face and let it slide down to my chin. My first day and I already screwed up everything. Great. Mother will be so pleased.