The Inner Circle | A Midnight Quartet

Chapter 1 | Aspen Cooper

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The castle brims with life as everyone prepares for the upcoming ball. Aspen Cooper weaves through the people surrounding her, trying to see which bell is ringing on the master board in the laundry room. She inwardly groans when she sees that it is the Queen's bell beckoning her to her quarters. Aspen gathers up the clothes she was scrubbing at in her washbin and asks the girl next to her if she can finish it. Everyone in the servants' quarters knows who Aspen is and they understand that she has to rush away. On her way out the door, she passes by an old mirror and quickly glances to see if her appearance is acceptable. She notices a fresh scratch by her ear and she swipes at it, knowing the Queen will find a way to humiliate her for it. It must have happened when she used the hidden outdoor entrance into the kitchen, where the rose bushes run rampant and reach out to scratch her. She wipes her wet hands on her apron before ripping it off and swiftly runs out of the crammed and dimly lit room.

    More people are working in the hallways, shouting orders to their helpers on where to move a bouquet of flowers or to light another candle. Everyone seems to be scrambling to make the preparations perfect, hoping to impress the stern king. Her gray cotton dress sways with her movements as she takes the quickest route to the Queen's quarters. Guards stand at the door, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. They recognize the Queen's Maid and step away to let her enter. All noise dissipates as Aspen enters the grand room. She had practically lived in this gaudy room for the past 2 years. The walls are white with  blue details etched into the tile making the entire room feel like the inside of a china teapot. The couches are golden and are covered in what feels like hundreds of dark blue silk pillows. She holds herself in a curtsy in front of the Queen and the multiple other servants surrounding her.

    "Ah, there's my measly excuse of a lady-in-waiting. Where have you been, girl?" Despite having worked for her for years, Queen Odessa hardly ever uses Aspen's real name. She lifts herself out of the bent-over position and meets the eyes of everyone in the room. "Well? What are you waiting for?" The Queen beckons Aspen over with a perfectly manicured finger. "I did not call you in here to merely watch, missy." Aspen nods her head in a silent apology and walks to the Queen's side. Before she is able to attend to her needs, a cold hand wraps around Aspen's chin. She flinches but doesn't pull away as the Queen says, "What do we have here?" The Queen roughly pushes a strand of hair behind Aspen's ear that must've fallen loose from the tight bun the maids are required to wear. "A fresh cut. Get that cleaned up as soon as possible. I can't have one of my ladies running around with blood dripping down the side of her neck."

    Aspen holds the Queen's eye contact, decidedly sick of the Queen's petty nature. "Of course, Your Majesty. I would hate to get my unclean blood on your beautiful gown." Odessa never let Aspen forget her past. More specifically, her parents' past. Aspen was left on the steps of the palace 16 years ago. She had worked and worked, earning her spot at the Queen's side, but it was not enough. She was still seen as tainted, unclean. The bronze hint to her skin doesn't help her fit in either, adding yet another thing to be looked down upon for, just by being different.

The Queen must detect the defiant note in her voice and squeezes Aspen's jaw tighter before releasing her. The Queen swiftly turns around, glaring at the gawking servants. Aspen follows her, noticing that the hardest part of the dress was saved for her to do: the lacing in the back. The huge, dark purple mass must be at least 7 feet in diameter and Aspen is always the one in charge of tying the dress together.

    Two girls hold Queen Odessa steady as Aspen walks behind her and grabs the long, silk ribbons, looping them in the bottom holes and pulling them as tight as they can go. The work takes a lot out of her already sore muscles, but Aspen knows that if it is anything less than perfect that the Queen will have no qualms against striking her. Odessa demands everything to be pulled tighter, to make it fast, to stop pulling her backward and off-balance. Aspen ignores all of the pleas, quietly making the dress as uncomfortable as possible while she works. Eventually the silence in the room is broken by the door opening. A pale boy in his mid-twenties pops his head inside.