Clouds of the Next Generation

1

It must have been around four o'clock when I entered the quarters of Dame Katherine to prepare her clothing for the day, heat the water for her bath and such. It was earlier than usual and thud I was feeling rather drowsy. I didn't sleep much last night. I had spent a large portion of the night with Laurel and Hartford playing every single game of cards the old man could remember, which wasn't a great variety for Hartford's otherwise rather sharp mind was befuddled by the alcohol Laurel managed to get her hands on. My best friend and I were heatedly blessing the bottle; had there not been booze, we would've lost every single round, but in this lucky and undoubtedly not random circumstance we managed to rob Hartford blind. He would be livid when he woke up.

Because there was no one else to blame for my tiredness but myself, I begrudgingly finished my duties, which didn't take more than an hour. After I took the liberty to rest on the salon couches in the drawing room; they were angelic to lay on and it didn't take long for me to shut my eyes. I could hear the Dame snore in the bedroom through the crack I left in the door. I was confident the change of that rhythm would wake me, so I didn't hesitate to drift into a light but much needed sleep.

I was awoken by extreme knocking, as if someone was getting ready to forcefully burst through the main door. It scared me out of my wits and before I could cope with what was happening, I was on the hard floor, where I moaned in pain. Who the hell has the guts to knock in Dame Katherine's door, is beyond me.

I heard Dame's slippers on the wooden floor and I could hear the frustration rise exponentially in every slide.

˝Who the fuck is it??˝ Her voice was cracking as she made her way around the corner, her night gown flowing gracefully around her legs. Her hair was a mess, a sticky pile of royal purple, and her narrowed eyes shone in that particularly hateful sparkle I only ever spotted in her irises.

She didn't even flinch at the sight of me almost dropping off the sofa, clearly just awoken as was she. Her fingers fumbled with the key and the keylock clicked, allowing Dame Katherine to push the door open in all her fury.

"No!" I heard Dame's cranky voice echo on the probably empty hallway. A firm hand stopped the door as Milady tried to shut them, a hand crowned with two large gemstones, blossoming from narrow golden rings. I immediately recognised them. One of them used to belong to his wife.

"It's important," answered the man as he walked in, uninvited, with Dame Katherine still standing on the entrance and me still sitting on the carpet in front of the couch I had fallen asleep on. I was not pleased with his arrival, but that was nothing compared to Katherine's contempt for this Neanderthal who dared to wake her from her beauty sleep. Yet she didn't drag him out of her chambers by his hair or yelled the living hell out of him as I had seen her do before. All she did was roll her furious eyes and leave the door ajar. Something wasn't right.

I quickly got on my feet and sloppily corrected my tight dress. I hated this uncomfortable boring piece of cloth, but protocol was to be followed. Katherine wouldn't have minded but Morgan would've rather have my legs broken than see me walk around his court in something more freeing.

"I see you make your maids cosy," the newcomer remarked in a cold tone that I have not expected. He was a proud and tempered man, but he always restricted himself around the help. He knew better than to lash out on us as some others tended to, however he never possessed the warmth other Lords and Dames did when addressing us, his way was polite and distant. Me and Laurel spent many nights discussing his odd stance toward the help; she was especially keen of any subject that related back to him. She was alone in her infatuations. The rest of us found his posture either amusing, vain or boring, but we knew better than to care much for him. There were better friends to be had amongst the Novelty.