Princess Vivianne & Juniper the Guard

Chapter 17: Malneirophrenia (3)

The head maid Rebecca was anxiously wandering the aisles of the empty hallway, worrying her lip so hard that it bled. In her hand, she was carrying cleaning supplies and heading toward the communal showers.

She hadn't meant for this to go so far; she had only meant to scold the young girl enough to please the harems madam, who Rebecca looked up to immensely. She used to work as a wet nurse under her guidance.

When Nancy had shown up with Coco, a concubine that had injured herself during a dance, she had asked Rebecca to escort her to the harem. Nancy knew that Rebecca was one of the few people allowed inside.

"Please, I need to return and oversee the banquet. Could you take her back?" Although Nancy had pleaded with her, it greatly annoyed her, but she had smiled and grabbed the concubine's hand.

"Go on! I'll get her settled in her room," she had said, waving Nancy goodbye as she ran back to the garden.

When Nancy was out of sight, Rebecca allowed her annoyance to boil over into anger. She slapped Coco hard, leaving a stark mark on her pale skin.

"What use is there for a concubine that can't entertain?" Rebecca snarled. That was until the alarm bells went off, and the servant house erupted into chaos. The guards were ushering maids and butlers into the shelters underground.

Rebecca was contemplating letting the concubine go when a fat slob of spit hit her right in the eye.

"Go to hell, you witch," Coco had hissed, and all sense immediately left Rebecca.

...

The fire was contained by guards running around with buckets of water and ice. Peony signed a breath of relief, it seemed like the royal court knights had defeated the invaders, yet the alarms weren't ringing.

So, it's still not safe to come out yet! Peony thought, worried. On her way to the servant's house, she had seen the blue flare light up from the forest. She worried Vivianne and Juno had been caught in the attack, considering how close the infirmary was to the forest.

Peony hid in the communal showers until the coast was clear in case the fire spun out of control again. Then, at least, she'd have quick access to water if the servant's house got caught in the flames.

What she'd do with the smoke was unclear, but at least she had a plan, so she walked up the stairs and peeked into the showers.

The Norian bathrooms had a standard layout in all homes and communal bathhouses. The shower and bath areas were separated entirely in a typical Norian bathroom. Upon entering, you'd find a changing room and short faucets lining the walls first.

First, you undress in the dressing area and sit on the stool in front of the faucet with a wash basin, soap, and shampoo.

After thoroughly washing with a shower rag and ensuring you've rinsed yourself properly. You walk into the next room, where you'd find many bathtubs filled with steaming water to share with others.

When Peony slipped into the communal bathroom, she walked straight to the dressing area and sat on the bench. The room was foggy like somebody had just taken a warm shower.

Scrub Scrub Scrub

Peony froze; she pricked up her ears at the strange sounds coming from the next room. Someone was panting heavily and murmuring something. She rose to look closer, pushing the portiere aside to peek in.

It was hard to see from the thick steam, but a figure hunched over something in the middle of the bathtubs scrubbing harshly at the tiles. The figure groaned again in a familiar voice, and Peony finally recognized who it was: the head maid.

Peony inched closer, trying to peak over the woman furiously scrubbing. Then, slowly, she moved one step at a time, careful not to make any sudden moves.

She was horrified when she discovered a young girl with a foot shackle lying in a pool of blood. She swallowed her shocked yelp and backed away from the madly chanting woman.

Nancy shouldn't have annoyed me. It's her fault. she kept repeating, scrubbing with a drenched sponge. But, of course, it wasn't cleaning anything but pushing the liquid around the tiles sloppily.

In her shock, she hadn't even realized that she was back on the bench.

Peony was curled into a ball, slowly rocking in an attempt to calm herself. The other two concubines' death rose to her mind, and how quickly they collapsed like strings cut from a marionette. That girl on the ground wore a similar outfit as those girls back in the garden.

Scrub Scrub Scrub

Peony's ears hurt, and she grasped at her hair to ground herself, to no avail.

At that moment, she realized how insanely naïve she had been to think she could help the third consort and save anyone.

Everything was crashing down on her at once, the banquet, the head maid, the neglected body of the third consort, and the hidden pathway with the maps and scrolls.

Don't you know you're disposable? Mio's voice rang in her head; he was right. What was stopping Peony from ending up like these girls?

Her lunch flew out of her like a projectile, splattering on the lockers before her. She heaved for air, but her lungs remained empty.

Scrub Scrub Scrub

The scrubbing turned louder, or maybe she just imagined it. All that bravado she was displaying earlier was gone, and she curled up into herself further.

If royals are being poisoned, what makes you think us breaking the story will resolve this?

"Mom..." she sniffed, tears obscuring her vision; she closed her eyes, wishing she was somewhere else.

"Peony...I'll be late tonight,"

They were gazing at each other through the vanity's smudged glass, carbon copies of each other. Her mother's sweet perfume pricked her nose, but she buried her face in her dress anyway. The hazy smoke from the other hostesses mixed with the makeup scent was a familiar scent.

"Mom, when I grow up, I wanna be like you!" Peony had said, her dimpled smile warming her mother's heart. She had just finished putting ribbons in her hair and smacked a red kiss onto her child's cheek.

"I'd rather you become the opposite, flower, " her mother said, signing and rocking the little child in her arms. "Someone who protects others and is always kind. Promise me."

She looked into Peony's eyes, holding her face in warm palms. The child was too young to understand what her mother was talking about.

"I promise, Mommy!"

Peony jolted awake, still in her curled-up position. That memory had suddenly appeared to her in a dream. She rose on unsteady legs and wracked her head for an explanation, but she only came to one. Her promise she had made a promise to her mother.

The scrubbing was still happening, meaning she hadn't slept for long, only mere minutes. Peony was in a state of serenity, with only one thing on her mind.

She grabbed one of the wooden wash basins and walked into the bath area, clutching it with shaky hands.

Her fear hadn't left her; she was ignoring it. Instead, with decisive steps, she walked up behind the head maid, second-guessing for a second before she allowed instinct to override her gut.

The responding smack upon contact with the head maid was vicious. She fell face-first into the concubine's stomach, who, thankfully, groaned in pain.

Good, that means she's alive, Peony thought. She tore a piece of her dress and tied it around the girl's head wound.

The alarms signalling that it was safe to step outside, rang outside.

"Let's get out of here before everyone returns," Peony said, hoisting the shivering girl up her back.

A/N: Portiere (noun): a curtain hung over a door or doorway. Chapter 11 will be up on Thursday.