Cinder-Mari

The great secret

"Excuse me, Mlle. Chloe, may I come in?" Marinette said, as she knocked on the door nervously. She then opened the door and walked in when she heard the words, "finally! What took you idiots so long?" Marinette finally got a glimpse of the person Alya spoke so poorly of, who yelled loudly enough to be clearly heard from the servant's quarters.
Marinette had never imagined that she would look like the girl before her. She had long, soft golden hair, which complimented her sky-blue eyes quite well. Her pale face looked lovely in the morning sunshine, despite the frustrated sneer splayed across it, and she wore a cream colored nightgown that was embroidered delicately with golden silk.
"What are you looking at? Is my hair messed up?" Her hands immediately went to her head, but Marinette shook her head. "No, I think I recognize you. Were you at the funeral for Tom and Sabine Dupain, a few days ago?" Chloe's face then took on a disgusted look. "No, why would I go to the funeral of some bakers? I did hear about the tragedy from the town crier of course, but I have a reputation to uphold. Anyhow, bring that tea over here."

Marinette quickly obeyed, but she had to work hard to keep from frowning. She was soon dismissed from Chloe's bedroom, which she greatly appreciated. As days would go by, Marinette would begin to notice that she would fall into a sort of routine. She would get up early to begin baking, sell as much as she could in the shop, then go over to Chateau Bourgeois to start cleaning. Then she would go home and scrounge up whatever bread was left over from the sales, have a meager supper and go to bed.
As days bled together to form weeks though, that routine began to grate on Marinette's health. She felt her muscles getting sorer with each passing day, and once her hands shook so much that Alya had to take over pouring the tea for Chloe and Sabrina. "You don't look well, Marinette. I think you'll need to give up the bakery and live with us in the servant's rooms, it's not healthy for you to keep two jobs."
Marinette looked up at Alya with tired eyes, then rested her head on the table she was sitting at. "No matter what happens, I can't give it up. That bakery is the only thing I have left of my parents, if I let that go I'm afraid that I might forget them." Alya finished preparing the tea and let another maid take it up the stairs, then sat down next to Marinette. "Well then, we'll just have to come over and help you."
She then gestured to herself, Rose, Juleka and Mylene. Marinette's eyes opened widely, and she lifted her head off the table in surprise. "Do you really want to do that? I mean, would you even know how to bake the bread and pastries?" Alya thought for a moment, then grinned. "Well, I've learned a few things from my mother over the years, and you can teach us. Besides, we would do anything to keep you healthy, right girls?"
Rose and Juleka nodded vigorously, but Mylene suddenly got up to look out the window, then ran over and grabbed a basket of bread and cheese. The four other girls looked at her strangely, for while they knew the basket was for the stableboy's dinner, there should be no reason why Mylene should take it anywhere. Ivan Bruel, the one and only stableboy employed at the moment, usually just walked into the kitchen without a sound to get it and snuck back out.
Then Ivan carefully opened the kitchen door, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. However, his efforts showed no avail, for Mylene was waiting right in front of the door for him. "Here you are, Ivan." Mylene thrust the basket towards him, her cheeks turning slightly pink. Ivan looked at her, his eyes widening with surprise and embarrassment.
"Oh, thank you, Mylene." He said quickly, then closed the door behind him. She stood at the window near the door, watching him for a few minutes, then sighed sadly and went back to the table. Marinette and the rest of her friends looked at Mylene with interest, until Alya decided to break the ice. "Mylene, do you fancy Ivan?" Her head snapped up, cheeks pinker than before.
"I know-that is-what I mean is-I can't believe-" She sighed, closing her eyes and muttering words under her breath. Meanwhile the others leaned forward, waiting for Mylene to give a complete answer. "What I mean is, yes." The girls then began to squeal happily, and all of them hugged Mylene tightly. "Wait, no, stop!" She said, and ducked out of the way of their arms.
They stared at her, confused. "What's wrong?" Juleka asked, as she went over and put her arm around Mylene's shoulders. "I do love him, but I fear he may not love me back. He never says more than a few words to me, and whenever he sees me coming towards him, Ivan always walks away quickly." "Well, I don't think that necessarily means that he doesn't love you, Mylene." Marinette said, and Mylene looked up at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I may not have been working here for very long, but from what I've seen Ivan is a very shy person. It could be that he does love you, but simply does not know the right words to tell you, or that he is afraid of you not feeling the same way. Perhaps you could tell him your feelings, Mylene, or do something to show him how much you care." Marinette said gently.
"I suppose so, but how-" At that very moment, Lord Bourgeois' booming voice came thundering down to the servant's quarters. "Marinette! Chloe and Sabrina have finished their embroidery lessons, and the parlor is a complete mess! Go and clean it at once!" Marinette flinched at how loud his voice was, but then smiled and shook her head. "I'd better go, be back in a bit."

They all waved goodbye to her, and she started climbing up the stairs to the parlor. Once she got there though, she knew that she would not be "back in a bit." Fabric, ribbons and spools of embroidery floss and thread covered every piece of furniture in there. An embroidery hoop, with fabric that had apparently been shredded in a moment of anger, lay on the floor surrounded by the rest of the remains. Marinette then jumped when she heard a metallic sound under her feet, and sighed when she saw hundreds of pins and needles getting stuck in the plush carpet.
Marinette felt like cringing at the mess, but knew that the only thing that would do anything would be to clean it up. She worked for hours on that mess, mostly because of the veritable pincushion at her feet, and when she was finished she was exhausted. Marinette knew that Alya was right, when she said that it wasn't good for her to work so hard.
Still, what else could she do? Working for Lord Bourgeois provided her with the social and financial security that she needed, and running the bakery was the only way to make sure the legacy of her parents survived. She put her hand over her mouth and yawned, telling herself that she should go home. It couldn't hurt to rest for a few minutes, she then reasoned as she lowered herself down to the floor, where she could feel the dying embers of the fireplace warm her body.