Wings of Fire Oneshots

Non-Wof Short Story #4

"Child!" Mildred turned her head. She knew the shriek of Wicked Willow all too well.

"Coming Willow!" It was supposed to be her lunchtime. But of course, that witch didn't care. Willow glared at Mildred as she came into the kitchen.

"That's Mistress Willow to you," the old woman snarled. "Why aren't the floors scrubbed? Or the dishes clean? Wretched girl, you know we have guests coming!"

Mildred bowed and tried to keep a calm composure. "It was my lunch break ma'am. Couldn't you have done it?"

Willow scowled. "Talking back? You're lucky I don't box your ears! Go! Get to it!"

Mildred silently nodded. There wasn't much she could do anyways. Wicked Willow walked out of the room in that condescending, superior way of hers. Mildred brushed off her old, dusty pinafore and started cleaning. She scrubbed the floors, washed the dishes, dusted the corners, and it made it no easier that people kept shouting orders as she walked by. Mildred just got to setting the table when a regal family walked in. Nobles. She thought. She stared in awe. The women wore pretty, silky petticoats that she could have never dreamed of affording.

"Girl!" Mildred snapped out of her trance. "Have you not finished? Stop dawdling, and get to it! You can bet you won't get a crumb of dinner." Wicked Willow yelled at her. She then turned back and started talking in a much more elegant voice to the nobles. Mildred's mouth quivered. I mustn't cry. Especially not in front of guests. Willow will punish me more. Suddenly, she caught a boy gazing at her. He had dirty blonde hair, and the most gorgeous crystalline blue eyes. They look like sapphires. Mildred had finished setting the table but she couldn't help but stare back.

"Such an insolent girl, no scullery maids at the table," Willow said. "Go on, shoo." Mildred bowed and turned to walk out when the boy spoke,

"Allow me to walk you to your chambers." Mildred stared in shock, and Willow looked equally surprised. Willow hesitated and then nodded, not wanting to cause a scene in front of guests. As if she hasn't already. The boy walked with Mildred and she made no attempt at conversation.

"May I ask your name, Miss?" The boy asked.

Mildred stared in shock. Why would a noble want to know her name? A mere scullery maid? I must look like a fool.

"M-Mildred, sir."

"A pleasure Mildred, I'm Charles."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Mildred curtsied.

Charles smiled. "I'm no prince, you don't have to bow to me."

"Yes, sir."

"There is a reason I wanted to walk with you."

"Oh?"

"Why do you let that old woman mistreat you? We don't treat the servants like that back home. Surely you must get tired of her bossing you around like that."

Mildred hesitated. Why does he care? I have nothing to do with him. Sure, people gave her looks of pity from time to time. As if they actually care. They would never understand. Mildred thought bitterly. But Charles seemed different. He just seemed so...trustworthy. "I'm not a regular servant. My family is in debt. I have to listen to her." She didn't know why she was telling him this information. Mildred had no reason to. He's just so easy to talk to.

Charles stayed quiet for the rest of the walk. He seemed to be in thought. They arrived in Mildred's room in what seemed like no time.

"This is my room. Thank you for walking me sir." Mildred bowed.

"Please, call me Charles." Charles grinned at her. "And in my opinion, you're much too pretty of a girl to be following orders from the likes of that woman."

Charles waved and walked off before Mildred could answer. She stared after him gawking, she couldn't believe a boy had said that to her-least of all a noble!

Mildred finally collected herself and went into her room. No dinner came, as expected. But something unexpected did happen.

"Child." Wicked Willow opened the door. Mildred turned.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"For you," the elderly woman handed her an envelope. "Remember, to sleep 8:00 p.m. sharp."

"Yes, ma'am."

When Wicked Willow left, Mildred stared at the envelope in curiosity. Who would send her something? Her family hardly sent letters anymore. Mildred wanted to read it right away, but it was too dark in her room and someone would probably scold her for wasting precious candlelight. She turned over the envelope in her hands.

Charles Chisholm, the envelope read. Mildred smiled. The envelope was the same sapphire blue as his eyes.

What a strange boy indeed.

Author's Note:

This one was pretty rushed, but to be honest all of them were. I think it still turned out okay though. I hope you all like it, and feel free to send critiques if you have any.

Word Count Without Author's Note: 777

Total: 824