Gildemer Episode One

Dreaming (Gabby)

Gabby

The board hangs in front of me; white, curved, and entwining symbols fill the surface. A man with no face stands in front of the board. "Miss Hansworth, read what it says on the board, please." He slaps a pointer under the first line of strange symbols. I jump and swallow hard.

My heart hammers against the wall of my chest. Why would he think I know how to read? I'm a servant.

"I don't know," I stammer. Sweat slides down the back of my neck. Should I know? I shake my head. No. No one has ever taught me how to read. They would never risk death for me.

"That is not an acceptable answer, Miss Hansworth."

I make tight fists on top of my desk. Why is this happening? I shouldn't be here; it's forbidden.

Light orbs appear, floating around aimlessly as they always do. They dim to a candle flame's level. What in the world? Now, I can barely make out the symbols on the board. The man slams the pointer against the stone again. My hands shake. The door to the classroom opens and Amon walks in. His caramel skin and light-brown hair sparkle in the orbs of yellow light, making his pale blue eyes even more apparent. I smile for a moment and sigh before frowning. Why is he sparkling? The glittering effect stops when he sits down next to me.

Where did this loveseat come from? He takes my hand. My cheeks flush with heat as I stare at his hand on top of mine. I never imagined he would do such a thing with me.

"I'll teach you how to read, Gabriella."

I lean forward at his words. That's so sweet of him, but how can he teach me how to read? He's a servant too.

"How do you know how to read?"

He shakes his head and leans in closer to me. "Don't worry about that."

His eyes shut and his lips start to close the distance between us.

"Gabby, get up! Now, Gabriella. Get up before Mistress finds you sleeping in." I force my eyes to remain closed. Mary-Ann's insistent nagging woke me up from a good dream involving Amon, and now I know I'll never get it back.

Her cold hands land on my shoulders and rock me back and forth with as much force as she can muster. In the dream, I was in class, which means I was part of Branch Three, and allowed to learn. Servants are the lowest of the low and the luxury of learning anything other than Art and Music is not allowed. We get those, so we can entertain the other branches if they want us to.

"We're on bread duty for breakfast this morning. For all of the Branches, and you need to make the twenty rolls they eat first, you know. Afterward, we have to clean the Branch Two rooms. We don't have time for you to be lazy."

Finally, she uses the rest of her strength and pushes me out of the bed and onto the cold, stone floor. I grunt and push myself up. My elbows crack. I press against my cot to get up on my feet.

With a sigh, I grab the yellowed, stain-filled apron off the rusted hook, which is hammered into the grey-brick wall, and tie it around my plain, brown dress.

If I was a higher rank, I would be a servant to Branch One or the King's family, and then I could have a pretty, blue dress that shimmers in the sunlight and have a clean, white lace apron every single day.

My rank hasn't gone up since I came to work for the Headmaster of this school six months ago. Mistress, who heads the servants and works directly for the Headmaster, has control over whether or not our ranks go up. She says I have the training of a Branch One servant, but my attitude shows her I'm not ready to go up in number or to serve one of the King's family members directly. The pranks I play on her probably don't help my case either, but it's not my fault the woman has a broomstick stuck up her butt.