Servitude: The Hydrangea Chapters

Chp 36: The Heads of Staff - Part 1

After a few minutes, she finally opens her eyes to see her knees and feet. She slowly lifts herself to a stand, averts her gaze from the topiary, and turns toward the mansion. Hesitating for just a moment longer, she returns to the path and presses forward to the front door.

Thankfully, the courtyard is sufficiently decorated to hide her and her reaction to the statue. The guards at the door shot her a strange glance when she briefly stepped away, but they didn't seem to notice her moment of panic. 

"Is there a problem?" one of them inquires.

The dread is still lingering, but she uses all her willpower not to let it show. 

"My apologies, I had to take a moment to... admire... the work on the topiaries." Just saying the word was difficult. "I wish to speak with Head Butler Roland regarding employment if he has a moment to spare."

They take a moment to think. "Typically, servant interviews are held in the morning, but you might get lucky if he's free." One guard reaches for one of the few ropes hidden in the wall and pulls it, and a muffled sound of a deep, resonant bell echoes inside the mansion.

The guards stand there momentarily, and Marlina is about to speak when the doors are swung open by an elderly gentleman dressed in a butler suit dyed in dark blue and purple hues. He also wears a long dark cape secured by golden ropes and tassels, which drapes over his shoulders and arms, complemented by a double-breasted vest and knee-length slacks paired with white stockings leading to finely polished leather shoes. Slightly above average height, his features appear sunken from age and long nights of work. With silver hair framing the sides of his head and face, his stern expression makes Marlina uneasy.

"Can I help you?" Roland asks. A glance at Marlina, dressed in simple clothes, makes it clear that she holds no significant status, and he doesn't feel the need for formalities in their interaction.

"Yes, Sir." She bows to him. "My name is Marina Sandoval. I want to request employment here under your guidance." Keeping her head down, she notices one of his hands reaching into a pocket in his vest to pull out a small notebook, which he checks.

"You're not on my applicant lists, which means you haven't submitted anything."

Marlina straightens, her gaze fixed on Roland. "Yes, Sir, my apologies. It would have taken some time for a letter from Tores to reach you, and even longer for a reply. I figured it was less time wasted than if I had come to speak with you in person."

Roland raises an eyebrow. "And what if I were to turn you away? Wouldn't that be a waste of yours?"

"Even a moment of your time wouldn't be a waste to me. Please, let me show you how I can contribute to this grand mansion and the esteemed Sullivan Family."

With his brow still raised, Roland's gaze remains locked on hers for a while, not breaking until he reaches for his pocket watch to check the time. "You have 15 minutes before I speak to the chefs about meal planning." With a turn of his heel, he starts to walk into the mansion, and the guards step aside to allow her to pass.

Without hesitation, she steps into the mansion and follows Roland. Once inside, Marlina's eyes widen. 

The foyer is enormous, somehow brighter than the outdoors due to the numerous light fixtures that enhance the room. Perhaps it's also because of the light-hued marble flooring and the two sets of stairs encircling a sitting area that lead up to the upper story. The stairs lead to hallways that extend toward opposite sides of the mansion. The ceiling plaster is molded into an intricate eye design, with a stunning glass chandelier anchored at the iris. A half-circle sofa with cream-colored upholstery surrounds a round glass table, which holds a decorative tea set just beneath the chandelier, with the reflective accents on the upholstery making the sitting area gleam.

The emerald green painted upper walls of the room, supported by marble columns, are adorned with painted portraits of every Head of the Sullivan family over the decades. Most of the paintings depict each family Head in their early adult years, with only a few older individuals who likely assumed leadership roles later in life. 

All of them have raven-black hair, their identical stoic poses proudly displaying their Glass Eye heirloom, contrasting with Elek's bleached hair and his deliberate effort to hide it. There's an empty space on the wall next to one of the older Heads, whose greying sides stand out against the neatly combed black on top. If anyone had to guess, it would most likely be Elek's father. According to the twins and the rumors they've heard, he recently passed away.

Along the left and right walls are archways leading to spacious rooms filled with lavish furniture. Two additional doors sit between each arch. The room they passed features a lounge where a few servants are cleaning thoroughly as they walk by to reach one of the two doors.

As Marlina steps inside, she finds herself in Roland's office, a quaint square room with no windows. The wooden desk, cabinets, and upholstered chairs are of good quality, though not as lavish as what Marlina observed in the lounge. Roland closes the door behind them and gestures for her to take a seat in front of his desk while he sits behind it.

"So, you're from Tores? In the Marishva Glades? Most people from those lands become farmers or ranchers, so why a servant, and so far from home, no less?"

Marlina sits up straight, keeping eye contact with Roland as she takes a moment to recall her script. 

"Farming has never been my strong suit, Sir, which made it difficult to find work after my family lost our farm due to soil overuse. I worked for a tavern owner and then in establishments in the lower levels of Levaeil to do my part for the family. Both jobs paid too little for us to live comfortably, and even my aging parents had to give up their retirement to earn wages on other people's land once we no longer received support from our Lord as producers for the capital."

Roland interlaces his fingers neatly atop the desk before leaning back in his seat. 

"Then why not apply to the upper levels of Levaeil? Or your Lord's residence? I'm sure the pay would be adequate."

'Just lower my eyes and look downtrodden.' 

Marlina's eyes are downcast as she shakes her head. "I was denied. I wasn't a resident, and my family can't afford to live there, even at the lower levels. We lack the connections that most have when finding affordable housing in the capital."

Roland takes a moment to contemplate her words. 

"That's unfortunate to hear, and I sympathize with your situation. However, I can't shake the feeling that your coming here was a fallback, a second-best option. Do you consider the Sullivan Family home inferior to your Lord's?"

'A little pressure, but still manageable. Seize every chance to offer praise. Win their favor.' 

Marlina shakes her head and looks back up at Roland. "Not at all, Sir; even we in the farmlands have heard of Lord Ervin's efforts for the Colonies. With the establishment of new technology that could benefit every Colonial, along with impressive results from the automatic farming equipment prototypes I've seen that were graciously provided," Marlina places a hand on her chest. "I admire Lord Ervin's commitment to the betterment of everyone, not just his people." 

Her tone then shifts to one of frustration. "While my Lord basks in his lavish parties, he becomes too preoccupied to oversee his people and attend to their needs adequately." She stands from her seat and bows deeply to Roland. "I would be honored to contribute to this home, helping Lord Ervin in any way so that he may have the time and energy to devote to the further benefit of the Colonies, no matter the task."

Roland gazes at her in silence for a few moments, while Marlina holds her bow, waiting for his reply. 

"Your eagerness to serve is admirable, but it seems you're getting ahead of yourself." Since she has not sent a letter requesting the proper application, he opens a drawer in his desk and places a document, along with an inkwell and a quill, in front of her. 

"I need a list of the establishments where you've previously worked, including how long you were there, the tasks you excel at, and any special skills that would be valuable. I must speak to the chefs, fill out the necessary information in the meantime, and we will discuss the details when I return." Standing up from the desk, he grabs a finely crafted notebook and exits the room, closing the door behind him.