The Princess of Herbia

Chapter 4

A sharp pain pierced my thumb and I had to draw in a breath to stop myself from throwing the needle and thread across the room in aggravation. This was the thing I hated most about my life. When my papa could not work anymore me and my brother's sought out jobs in order to help provide for the family: but even by us working it barely payed enough for everything we needed.

I closed my eyes, then returned to the sewing of the hem of the dress. The dress I was sewing was vastly different from the one I was wearing. While mine was loose, plain blue and light weight the one on my lap was heavy, blood red and sparkled. I also thought it was the most horrid thing my eyes ever had the displeasure of seeing.

With a last knot I held up the dress and admired my handiwork. Although the dress itself was hideous I could not help being proud of myself. My stitches looked reasonable neat and for once did not seem to look as if they were about to drop out. I smiled. Then Mrs Jayda walked in and gave a low whistle at the dress in my hands. She snatched it off me and stared closely at my stitchery, and with a unaproving look she throw it on the floor.

"Do you not know the dozens of girls who would die for this job girl? It is only out of kindness of your mother that I have kept you this long, but cripple of a father or not you are dismissed!" Anger fed me at her crude term to use for my papa and before I gathered my senses I was nose to nose with her. I quickly stepped back, thinking of my papa and mama's face when I told them they would receive even less money than they do now.

"You cannot dismiss me Mrs Jayda, I beg of you!" I cried, but Mrs Jayda only mocked me with a harsh laugh and turned to walk away. In my urgency I grabbed her skirt. I received a blow I had not expected. On the floor cradling a bloody nose I lost my senses. With skills she did not know I possessed I beat her bloody, not remembering exactly how I did so I looked down at her still body. Rage fled me and fear crept inside me. Had I killed her? With shaking hands I felt her pulse. Still alive. Relief like no other filled me, but soon unease flooded my senses: what will she do? Would I be hanged for this? Beheaded?

I leapt to my feet and fled.