stem of hearts

Priscilla

CAMILLE

I stared up at the manor, my bones feeling like cement. I had forced myself to stay awake throughout the whole ride– because falling asleep in front of two strangers would've been mortifying, right? The ride had been almost eight hours, though, and so it was nearly lunchtime. Even so, there was no way I'd be able to eat. I missed Edward and Emma already. I hated myself for not waking her up, even though it would've made it even harder. I couldn't help but laugh ever-so-slightly when I thought of how angry she'd be with me. Cute.

"Mademoiselle von Rosewald?" That caught my attention. I'd almost forgotten that I had a surname. Everyone usually referred to me by my first name, considering everyone in town knew each other. I looked up, shaking away my thoughts. A woman was walking toward me; she was definitely older than me, but still young. Thirty, maybe? I doubted she was older than that. She was pretty. Her glazy eyes were framed by long lashes- dark, too, likely because of mascara. She had a beauty mark by her right eye, and part of me thought it made her seem proper. She looked kind, though. Not scary, like those guards that I'd rode over with.

"That's me." I gave a weak smile. I probably looked like a street rat compared to her.

She dipped her head and gave a slight curtsy, which caught me very off guard. Like, what? I'd been dragged out of a little farmhouse to come and live with some man that I was meant to marry- whom I'd never even met, by the way. I wasn't a noble. I was probably less than a piece of fuzz in the eyes of the Gods. Yet, here I was, being bowed to as if I had grown up with Atrix as a mother.

The woman raised her head after a moment. "We've all been eagerly awaiting your arrival, Mademoiselle von Rosewald. My name is Priscilla Vanderbilt." Her earrings caught the light, and in return, my attention. I didn't have pierced ears. I'd never let my mother do it, since I wasn't a huge fan of pain. I had a very low tolerance.

"It's a pleasure, Miss Vanderbilt." I quickly bowed in return, feeling awkward. Just by seeing Priscilla, I could see what being a so-called real lady meant. Priscilla was definitely a real lady.

Priscilla gestured toward the door. She was wearing silky white gloves, the ones I'd always dreamed of having when I was a little girl. "If you would follow me this way, mademoiselle?"

I nodded slightly, hurrying after her. I felt incredibly underdressed, though this was probably one of the best dresses I owned. I'd sewn it myself, and it was pretty all right. I didn't have many other dresses.

. . .

I stared into the mirror as Priscilla gently dried my hair with a towel. I felt clean, which was odd. I always showered, of course– I mean, I wasn't a slob. But I felt flawless. Like there was nothing at all on my skin.

"Miss Vanderbilt?" I glanced up.

Priscilla looked at me in the mirror, reaching over to pick up a comb. "Yes, mademoiselle?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, suddenly feeling timid. I hated feeling like this. "I'd... Thank you. For doing my hair, that is, and, well..."

"Of course." She offered a gentle smile. Her expression made me want to smile, as well. Something about Priscilla just radiated kindness, and it made my insides all fuzzy-feeling. I liked kind people. My hometown was full of kind people– especially Miss Deirdre, who had nannied Emma and me when we were much younger.

"Is the earl... kind?" I asked with a sigh.

Priscilla brought the comb through my hair, which looked rather glowy in the sunlight coming in through the windows. "Kind enough." She said simply.

"Enough?"

"He's a good person," Priscilla explained. "I don't know him very well, so I may not be the right person to ask. Damien would know more."

I glanced up at her. "Damien?"

She blinked for a moment, as if she'd forgotten that I hadn't met nearly anyone else. Anyone but her and the man that had collected from my town. "Ah." She smiled slightly. "Damien Goelet. He's our butler. He practically raised Earl van Cortlandt."

"Where are they today?" I looked at my nails. I hadn't paid any mind to them in a while- hell, I'd forgotten about them. My hands were pretty scratched up from taking care of the roses and strawberries yesterday. Cursed thorns.

Priscilla pulled my hair out of my face, starting to braid it. "The earl had errands in town. Damien accompanied him to make sure he was safe."

"Do you stay here most of the time?"

"Usually," Priscilla murmured. "I live in the manor, as does Damien."

I nodded slightly, sighing. I was honestly really glad that the earl wasn't home. I wasn't eager to meet him. I didn't like rich people very much- mostly out of jealousy. My life was fine, but it definitely would be better if I had just a bit more cash. "Is he handsome?"

Priscilla laughed slightly. "I don't have much of an opinion."

"Really?" I blinked at her. That was surprising.

"If I had to say, I'd go with moderately handsome. He and I don't see each other much."