Belladonna

9

"Oh, do lay off!" I huff at Olivia the next day. "I can dress myself; I'm not a child!" "Nonsense," Olivia tells me kindly, retying the satin bow on my dress once more. "If I am to be paid—even if only a little bit—I will do my service to you, and I will do it well." "You never pick out anything that nice anyway," I quip, folding my arms. "Now, if you could perhaps finish this by today, that would be nice." I smile down at Olivia, making sure she knows I'm only joking. She smiles brightly back at me.

"Olivia," I say, an inquiry brewing in my mind. "How long have you been here? With the Hallows, I mean?" Olivia pauses for a moment, considering my question. "Perhaps a year or two, Miss Arabella." I'm told. "When you live here, the days tend to slip by. You don't really count them." "Why so?" I press further, rather comfortable with my false supremacy over her—from what I've seen of Olivia so far, she'll answer my questions. It's not as though I'm asking about something terrible. Just simply ordinary questions that it would be rude for her not to answer as my personal maid. Well, she's Katherine's maid. But for now we'll overlook that.

"If you start thinking about how long you've spent here, it... it makes you wonder how the time went by so quickly. Makes you question what you've been doing with yourself," she frowns at the bow—that looks perfectly straight to me when I twist my neck round to look down at it—and undoes it again, earning a sigh from yours truly as she continues. "You start to wonder if you ought to be somewhere else."

This piques my ever-living curiosity. "Really?" I ask. "Do you not like it here?" The smile seems to freeze on Olivia's lips. "Of course I do," she says slowly after a moment. "I have a bed and food. I couldn't ask for much more." "But are you happy?" Olivia lets out a laugh—a laugh that sounds most unnatural to my ears, only raising my suspicions. Not smart on her end.

The laugh stops abruptly. "Are you quite listening, Miss? I told you—of course I'm happy here." "Alright," I answer shortly, secretly wishing that I had someone to complain to. Someone to share my hatred for this place with.

My train of thought comes to a sudden end when I hear a tremendous thud. "What on earth?" I mutter absentmindedly, looking around. "It's nothing to be bothered about," Olivia says quickly. "You always hear noises in the house." I desperately want to point out that this is not at all the case, and this is the first noise over a few decibels I've heard, save from the voices of my lovely family. Instead, I simply nod.

"Forgive me if this is in any way impolite," I start. "But why would you even think of working in such a... well, such a miserable place?" "It's not that bad," Olivia replies patiently. The lie hangs in the air for a moment before I speak again. "It is that bad." "Maybe so." I frown at her. It's odd how she manages to agree with everything I say without really agreeing. "So you don't like this place?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "It's alright," is her short response. "Couldn't you just directly answer the question with a yes or a no?" I sigh in exasperation, feeling rather disheartened. "No one else here is willing to talk to me, and it would be helpful if you tried not to annoy me." "My deepest apologies," Olivia meets my eye. "I never meant to annoy you." She finally steps away, and I try my hardest not to let my sigh of relief be overly audible.

"You're getting paid to spend time with a fourteen-year-old," I continue. "Can't you answer my questions properly?" "Oh, fine," Olivia tells me with a roll of her eyes, but she isn't really annoyed. "Ask away—In all my years, I've never met anyone as curious as you."

"Why, thank you." I plop down onto my bed. "So, number one, why did you go for this job in the first place?" "Oh, that's easy." Olivia says with a sigh. "Life isn't easy, whether you're a woman or a man. Of course, men do seem to have it worse—but when they're not even supposed to work, women must fill all those positions. If you don't have a trust fund to fall back on, you must work to earn money while you're on your own." I nod, deciding not to interrupt her for now. "And," she fidgets with one of her plaits till the bottom starts to come undone. "if you're lucky, you'll find a man to marry, and you'll have a child, and it will be a girl. If you're even luckier, you're from a wealthy bloodline, and society sings your praises."