The Dragonlady

Chapter Eighteen

Sayrah picked flowers, searching low on her knees. She knew which ones she needed. Her basket held her bounty, placed at her side. She did not notice Eno approach and watch her labours until she turned to empty her hands.

"Ooh! You startled me!" She exclaimed, brushing the soil from her hands.

"It seems so, miss." Eno tilted his head toward her basket. "Those are not suitable for arrangements, if you forgive my interest."

"I make posies." Sayrah said, clutching her basket to her chest.

"Possibly, although not sweet ones."

"I think they're pretty." She pouted.

"Sour roses are pretty, but can be cruel. Herbleaf is harmless until lemonbalm is added to the mix. Saltmoss is .... Shall I continue?"

"It's no concern of yours, groundsman." Sayrah said rudely.

"Maybe not, miss, but I am concerned anyway. You are pretty and fortunate, yet not happy, which is a pity. You should have no cares at your age."

"You don't know me." She pouted. "You are a servant."

"Servants talk. We know more than you think. You must be Lady Sayrah, 'the one who stinks'?"

"I..." Tears sprung to her eyes.

"You stink because you bathe in those." Eno pointed to the basket. "You do it deliberately. Who has made you like this?"

She sank to the grass in misery. "I can't say." She whimpered.

"You need not, because I already know." Eno said, seating himself by her. He prised the basket from her fingers and set it aside. "I'm Dragonlady Rin's father, Eno. I've not always been a groundsman, you know, but I know flowers and herbs and their capabilities. You use these to repel advances, because you're afraid. You use lemon to keep your sleep light, so you can wake quickly. Here, at the mansion, you've found rest, but there is talk that you may go home. Although you want to go, you are frightened. You intend to bathe in those before you leave. So sad, Sayrah."

Sayrah cried. "My father likes young girls. Takes them to his bed. I hear them scream at times. They cry and beg and then scream. I hear them sobbing after. He laughs at them. I don't want to be next." She sobbed. "I love my mother. She's so kind and gentle. I miss her."

"Your father has gone, Sayrah. When your mother learned of his behaviour, she sent you here for rest and dismissed all the female staff. Once he realised that she had discovered his deeds and what she'd done, he left." Eno drew the girl to him, offering comfort. She stiffened. "I won't hurt you, Sayrah. Neither will most other men. You need to trust and relax. Go and clean up. I'll mention nothing about this to anyone." He released the girl, stood up and retrieved the basket. "You won't need these again." He emptied them out, returning the basket. He picked up the flowers and walked away.

Sayrah remained until her tears dried, then picked up the basket and hurried to her room. Once there, she washed and changed into a clean dress and joined Kay-Leh as if nothing had happened. Deep inside, she felt a glimmer of hope. Could the groundsman be right, and how could she find out?

"Where's Lady Clara?" She asked Kay-Leh.

"In the study, writing. She said that she'd join us in a while. Thus, I work on my stitching." Kay-Leh displayed her work.

"Mother says I lack patience for stitching." Sayrah sighed. "So I make perfumes instead."

"I know." Kay-Leh wrinkled her nose. "I'm glad you didn't bring any with you."