Peasant

Chapter 4 - Under The Surface

A few days had passed since I became a handmaid. I had settled into the routine of cleaning, cooking, sorting, and other menial tasks that now defined my days. Despite the constant activity, my thoughts frequently drifted to my mother, father, and Perrin. I wondered if they thought I was dead, still rotting in the dungeons, or if they knew I was now a handmaid working in the castle–a different kind of prison.

This morning, Gemma and I were outside the servant's kitchen, peeling potatoes in a bin since the kitchen was overcrowded for preparation of tonight's royal family dinner. The sun was shining down, a rare welcome warmth that made the task a little more bearable. Gemma's hands worked deftly while she chatted animatedly.

"How did it go the other day, delivering breakfast to the mistress?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

I shrugged, choosing my words carefully. "She was... peculiar. Not much to say, really."

Gemma leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, she's more than peculiar," she whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "Did you know she once tried to enchant the king with some kind of love potion? Or so they say. She's always meddling, spreading her influence wherever she can."

I nodded, listening as Gemma continued her gossip. She seemed to have an endless supply of tiny rumors and scandals, each one harder to believe than the other. Internally, I noted how increasingly chatty she had become since we started working together. Despite the somber reality of our duties, her lively spirit was a small comfort within the castle's atmosphere.

I leaned in closer, curiosity sketching my face. "So, how did you end up here?"

The question hung in the air. Gemma took a deep breath, her voice soft.

"Well, it's a bit of a tale," Gemma began, her gaze drifting slightly as if retracing the memories. "I grew up on the outskirts of Alnwick, with my grandmother. She raised me after my parents passed away... when I was very young." Her voice caught briefly on the last words. "When my grandmother fell ill and passed away, I was left alone. I heard about another girl from Alnwick who came to the castle, offering her life in exchange for a position as a handmaid. It seemed like the only path I had left."

I listened intently, my heart aching for Gemma's loss."I'm so sorry that happened Gemma. I too am from Alnwick. My mother, father, and I harvested crops for the village. What little crops we had anyway."

Gemma's eyes widened with disbelief as she leaned in. "Really? The other handmaids had been gossiping that you came from a far out brothel and tried to bed the King yourself... I had hoped it wasn't true!"

I looked at her and gave her a blank, confused stare. I shook my head, trying to erase whatever I just heard escape from her lips.

Gemma leaned back, continuing to scrape her potatoes, as if she were disappointed. "Well, how is Alnwick doing? Is it in better shape than when I left it?"

I took a deep breath, my shoulders tensing at the weight of the truth. "The Netherflux is spreading faster than ever. People are falling ill every day, and there's not enough food to go around. We barely survive while the castle walls stand tall and oblivious."

Gemma's hand covered her mouth in shock, her gaze flickering between the castle walls that sheltered us. "But... the king... surely he knows?"

"He knows," I replied bitterly. "He doesn't care. That's why I'm here, stuck as a handmaid. I was sentenced to treason for begging for his help and revolting when he mocked us... but I suppose he'd rather me suffer." I now realized just how isolated and unaware the castle inhabitants were of the suffering beyond their gates.