Melinda woke up as the sun was barely rising from her window and she stood up quickly and dressed in her uniform. She donned her grey bonnet and wrapped a black corset around her chest. Then she finished up by wrapping a black skirt around her waist. She was now ready to do her duty and run the Hanoschaft manor.

Walking through the manor she was interrupted by other servants who bowed towards her and she would respond with a nod herself. Despite being more affluent than them and having the ears of the two councillors, she still remembered where she came from. From the destitute alleys of Altdorf, she would gather up piles of barely edible food from the many bins crowding the slums. Sometimes, in unsavoury bouts of desperation, she would sell her body to drunkards, men fed up with their wives and young men seeking to end their virginity. Many of them were horribly abusive towards her. Every day she would look at her arms, breasts, hips and neck and noticed throbbing red lines and fresh, blood-red hickeys blotting her skin. The torturous monotony of her every day life was torn apart when she volunteered to be a colonist.

She was one of the few people standing, day and night, at the queue to sign her name only to be shocked when the one behind the post told her that she needed a second name. Fidgeting and looking confused she quickly thought of it. ‘Drestem’ in honour of her dead brother, a brother that protected her when she was young from all sorts of thieves, brigands and outlaws. And so, Melinda Drestem stepped on the ship to go to a New World.

Melinda didn’t have all sorts of nonsense grandeur that many in her ship felt. She was down to earth and heavily pragmatic, borderline ‘Ruinous’ as the people in her ship remarked. In spite of the hardships she endured during her life, she continued her undying faith to Sigmar and Shallya. Both gods helped her through her darkest times. Through Sigmar she received strength to fight on and through Shallya, she was clothed and fed when she was naked and starving.

Therefore, she expected to live as a farmer, maybe a labourer if she could flatten her breasts and cut her long hair. She expected to live a meagre lifestyle and making just enough money to survive and maybe build a house on her own with a husband that would respect her. Her expectations were thrown out, never to be seen, when she was at a marketplace searching for food; only to be accidentally tripped by a heavily pregnant woman. That woman was Emma. Emma Hanoschaft.

Dusting Little Reinhard’s favourite corner in the library, she took a quick break and sat down in one of the velvet furniture that Reinhard likes to call ‘sofa’. She reminisced the day that changed her life.

“I’m sorry about that, my lady,” someone feminine with a posh accent said. She bottled her irritation and looked up and notice a woman with light brown hair and green eyes, with a huge bulge in her stomach, busy picking up the loaves of bread that she has brought. Ashamed and slightly embarrassed by being helped by a pregnant woman, she rushed towards her and planted her hands towards her shoulder. “I’m perfectly fine missus. I can pick me own stuff. Please, miss, yer heavily pregnant.”

The posh lady simply swatted her arms away and kept on picking her foodstuffs. “I shouldn’t have rushed towards you my lady. That was awfully rude of me, so allow me to fix my mistake.” She continued pile the loaves of bread in Melinda’s basket and stood up. “It seems quite muddy.” She scrunched her face and murmured, “Perhaps I should tell Hervig to pave these streets and the marketplace. Well anyway, let me pay you back. Now follow me.”

The nerve of this bitch to tell me what to do. She was dumbfounded as the lady just walked off and strictly beckoned her to follow her. Looks like she’s used to getting her ways. Hesitatingly, she followed after her after looking at the mud stained food in her basket. They arrived at a comely looking wooden lodge and she was shocked. She must be some sort of nobleman! Everyone is still living in tents and she has a house! Thank the gods I didn’t yell at her! She opened the door and beckoned her again. “Come inside.”

From inside, the lady gave her loaves of bread and… And golden imperial marks. Gold! I’m actually touching gold! Melinda saw her tidying her brown stained skirt and guffawed. “Deary me! Where are my manners? I should’ve introduced myself. My name is Emma Hanoschaft. Yours?” Emma pointed to her.

“Melinda… Melinda Drestem.”

“You sound unsure of that name. As if you thought of it in a nick of time.” Emma prodded and sat in one of her seats and gestured for Melinda to do the same.

“I did not think of it in a ‘nick’ of time! Drestem… He’s me brother. I’ve taken up a second name to honour him missus. So, don’t be tellin’ me…” She stopped herself from speaking more and froze. She was being rude to a noblewoman! Instantly, regret churned up inside her and finally resignation. Am I gonna be arrested? Put inside the ship’s dungeon?

“I’m terribly sorry about that fraulein. Shouldn’t have assumed something so… Demeaning.” The lady got up and started to gather strange new leaves and soaking them up in water. “Want some tea. It’s green tea.”

She nodded and slightly calmed down after sipping it. The first time that she was drinking tea. Something so expensive and way above her station and she’s being served it, by a noble lady she lost her temper on.

“Pregnancy has not been good to me fraulein Melinda. Sometimes I’m prone to bouts of stupidity. I’ve wronged you twice in one day and I don’t know how to repay you.” Lady Hanoschaft said contritely and sipped on the tea and caressed her stomach.

In a fit of sheer lunacy, Melinda demanded the impossible. “I want a job. A high paying job.” She tried to swallow and gulp as discretely as possible. What am I doing?! She’s gonna have me whipped now!

“Interesting. You’re pretty bold you know that. Asking for a job from a person that you just met on the streets. I can’t help but be suspicious.” Emma kinked her eyebrows and leaned forward. “I’m a bit bored of reading all day and being sick. You know what… I’ll entertain myself and interview you a bit.” Melinda tried to stand up and stared at the door. “No, you don’t. Sit back down fraulein. You’ve asked to have a job and I’m willing to give you a job. And if my husband is here, he would gladly give you it. Now… Who are you and where did you come from?” Melinda tensed and knew that she was not going to enjoy this.

Many more pointed, precise and hurtful questions were hurled at her for nearly an hour. But to her it felt days. Specifics that should’ve been trivial and not important were thrown at her. She struggled to repress her growing anger when she asked about the time she was working at a brothel. And her miscarriage… As if her heart were slowly strangled by a rope, she gritted her teeth and pleaded that this would be the last question to which she relented.

“Fine. Fine. Do pardon me. I’m less subtle when I got a baby kicking inside me.” The noblewoman tried to infuse humour, but it was deflected by Melinda. “When you were working as… As a consort, what sort of skills have you learnt? Not the ways to pleasure a man, please.”

“W-what do ye mean?”

Emma energetically laced her fingers together. “You know?... What type of men were they and if they told you anything… Observational and listening skills? Yes! That’s what I’m looking for.”

“How do they have something in common with me working as a whore!”

“Calm down now…” She huffed and sipped more of the green tea. “You seem to be traumatised about that incident but trust me. It helps to talk about it. I may not be a person you know very well but you’ll get to know me soon. I am your future employer after all. You heed my orders. And only mine. Not my husband. No one else.” She perched her lips and waited for a nod from Melinda. “Good. It may be painful to answer this question but I’m looking ahead – “

“Ye seek me to work in a brothel! Despite what I told ye about the abuses I had from those men! I’m leaving!” Melinda stood up and walked towards the door only to be blocked by Emma, who was heavily panting.

“Fraulein…” She took a huge breath. “In my employ you should fix that temper of yours.” She had the audacity to chide her and poke her in her chin as if she were a naughty kid. “And listen to what I’m going to say without interrupting.” Emma pointed towards the table and looked at her that didn’t expect a ‘no’ for an answer. Cowed and afraid of punishment due to her insolence she sat back down on the chair. “Now… Where was I…” She casted an admiring gaze at Melinda which made her more guarded. “You’re incredible you know that. Most would have collapsed from what you’ve gone through, but you pushed on. I admire that. I like that. Sigmar has clearly moulded you in a forge and just like steel, you’ve came out stronger. Much more skilled too. I want to know those skills that you’ve acquired for yourself. I will not ask of you to work in a brothel. So, don’t worry.”

“M-my skills… Is it a skill to distrust someone in a split second?”

“Yes, it could be. But I want more. Surely, you listened to the men talk and babble about inane things? Some of those may be critical information…”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“I’m sorry milady – “

“My lady. If you work for me, you have to fix your speech.” Emma corrected her.

“My… Lady. What kind of job do you expect me to do?” She put her fists together and attempted to stop herself trembling.

“Right now… Helping me buy food and cooking it. Maybe taking my and my husband’s waste back to the latrines.” She looked at her stomach. “Once he comes out, you can be a wet nurse for him since you’re lactating.”

Melinda chuckled and nearly laughed. Thinking back, she was adamant that the baby is a boy. ‘Mother’s intuition’ she always said.

Suddenly a boy of eight years old popped out from behind a bookshelf and caused Melinda to choke. “Reinhard! How many times do I have to tell you to stop sneaking on me! And it’s still too early, why are you awake?”

The boy grinned and smirked, “I didn’t sneak up on you Mel. It’s your fault for being distracted.” He casually waved his hand around and dismissed her retort. “And Anna woke me up. I got up to check up on her. She had a nightmare again. So, I comforted her back to sleep but realised I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I went here.”

“You didn’t see her governess?” Someone is getting an earful. Neglect of Emma’s children is completely intolerable!

“You were nowhere near.” He said cheekily causing Melinda to roll her eyes.

“Your smart and intelligent for your age. It’s truly a shame that despite how quick you are, I have to keep saying that I’m not her governess. I’m the head servant. You know how hierarchies work right?”

“Still your fault for not hiring a competent governess. At least remind her of her duties. Both mamma and pappa are too busy with their jobs to deal with this. So, it falls to you.” He trained his blue eyes at her and tried to look intimidating.

“Nice try Rein. Your ten years too young to do that to me. And your right. Perhaps I was a bit neglectful for the past four years as being a head servant.” Damn right I was! Emma is a slaveowner! I have to manage an entire manor with dozens of servants and oversee dozens of spies! It’s too much! Perhaps I should start delegating. Problem is that Emma needs to trust them.

“Anyways, I’m hungry. Want to help me surprise my parents and Anna of a nice breakfast?” He grabbed her hand and started to drag her to the kitchen. She nearly dropped her feather duster as a result.

“I hope that you haven’t been bothering chef Brunwig and his cooks.”

The boy looked at her innocently, “Me? Bothering them? They should be grateful that I’m teaching them better ways of cooking things. It may be tedious and hard work, but I have an utmost confidence on Brunwig and his cooks to fulfil my family’s appetite.”

“I know your lying by the way you’re looking at me. I’ll assume that you’ve bothered them. It makes sense. No one wants to work hard.” I can confidently say that due to my past work experience with Emma.

“Well, they shouldn’t be working here! I looked at your ledgers and know that Brunwig is getting paid thirty-five silver marks a month! His cooks get ten! And I want something more interesting rather than sweetcorn served with bland meat.”

“You’ve been looking at my ledgers? How on earth can you understand those? Those were written entirely in Arabyan numerals.” She looked gobsmacked and quite disappointed at herself. It took her nearly two years to comprehend what those weird numerals were.

“Its simple really.” Oh, get the fuck out of here, you little brat. ‘Simple’?

“You’re fortunate that you’ve inherited your parent’s intelligence. But you should’ve asked for permission to look at those.” Melinda then oddly noticed Reinhard frowning for a split second, and he returned to smiling. He’s been doing this since he knew how to speak! Is there something wrong? Every time we speak to him about it, he just deflects.

“Would you have really given me permission? An eight-year-old child?” He snickered at that.

“No.”

“Exactly. So, what’s the point of asking permission? It’s better to say sorry than ask for permission.” Reinhard cleared his throat and put his hands together above his chin and looked pleadingly towards her. “I’m sorry.” His eyes widening like a puppy.

She shook her and laughed. “You know your parents are going to be mad that you broke into my office. I wonder how they’re going to react…” She relished at the all-knowing and arrogant boy break down in tears and begged to her.

“Please don’t tell them! My butt still hurts from last time!”

“You deserved that. You nicked one of the guard’s greatsword!”

“But it looked so cool! And he wasn’t using it at the time…” He nervously planted his feet in the floor and fidgeted.

“It was still wrong for you to steal it. Now, what are you planning to give me, so I won’t tell your parents?”

“Hey! That’s wrong! Your blackmailing someone who’s fifteen years younger than you!”

Ignoring him entirely she said a list of her demands, “I want one of those ‘sponge’ cakes and I want you to work for me for a few hours a day. Since you think Arabyan numerals and arithmetic is ‘simple’, you might as well help with auditing and balancing the books regarding the manor’s finances.”

She was disappointed when Reinhard breathed a sigh of relief. I should’ve said more. “I’ll gladly bake you one of those. But we’d have to use honey as a sweetener. Pappa is still struggling to make those sugarcanes more viable.” He then paused and mischievously smiled which unnerved her. “I’m flattered that you think my arithmetic is good. I’ll also gladly accept that.” Why are you this pleased? I’m starting to get worried now. Stop staring at me like that!

They both entered the kitchen where they were instantly barraged with a host of greetings.

Chef Brunwig adjusted his flat cap and wiped a sweat from his forehead and ran towards Reinhard and shook his hands. Looks like he was telling the truth after all… After a brief and polite hand shaking, Reinhard stared at her and smiled, “I told you that they were grateful.”

“What did you do?” She glared at him with her suspicions showing.

“I simply told them how to make meat taste better. Especially steak. Mix herbs with oil and lather it then put it in a hot oven. Looks like the results were better than I expected.”

They looked at the array of meat dishes before them and Melinda couldn’t help herself drooling at the sight. “What did you put that would make them shine?” She asked no one in particular.

“Oh, this my lady. We just put butter on it. What matters is the inside.” Chef Brunwig then cut apart one of the meat dishes and separated it.

Melinda was confused at what she saw, “That doesn’t look cooked. It looks pink from the inside!”

“That’s the good bit. It makes the meat juicier and more flavourful. Unheard of from beef!” Brunwig said enthusiastically. “The ‘sweetcorn’ is also served with butter. Trust me my lady. It tastes delicious.”

The head servant then stared at Reinhard, “You learnt this from a book?”

He shook her head, “No. Just trial and error. The oven’s temperature was hard to pinpoint, so I asked Grandpa Erick about the tell-tale signs of what happens when it’s at a certain temperature. I could kill for a mercury-based thermometer.” He mumbled in the end.

She frowned and remembered something. “I heard from my sources that you also came in the forging district and annoyed the blacksmiths there. I wonder what you were doing there? Hmmm…”

“I just wanted to see them work and had a quick talk with Grandpa Erick about his hunts. I heard that he managed to hunt a triceratops- I mean stegadon! Those dinosaurs- monsters with sharp horns in their head! I asked him how he shot it in the eye using his bow. He doesn’t like how inaccurate handguns are.” He paused to reset his breathing. “We also talked about other things that are way too complicated for you to comprehend so let’s skip that.”

Oh… You cheeky brat. “Try me.”

Reinhard stared at her and grinned whilst cutting bits and pieces from the ‘steak’. “Well… Where to start? First, I asked him why handguns were inaccurate, and he didn’t know the answer. So, I then asked a follow up, telling him to explain to me why arrows are far more accurate than bullets. He said that arrows had fletchers which allowed them to be guided by the air.

“Unfortunately, he didn’t know how it was guided by the air, so I asked him to do some interesting experiments! He was so closed to kicking me out of his smithy back then,” the boy then laughed. “But in the end, he changed his mind and came to one of pappa’s archery training ground, here in the manor. I marked the arrow tip and asked him to fire it and told him to concentrate where the mark was. ‘Mark’ it’s position.” I think that was supposed to be a joke.

Melinda listened intently, not wanting to be outsmarted by him again. “He shot six arrows and noticed that the position of the mark seemed to change position in the arrow tip. Of course, that’s absurd so Erick then suggested that the arrow was spinning in the air. In the end we concluded that arrows are more accurate because it’s fletchers allows it to spin in the air, and not deviate too much from its intended target.

“So, I asked, ‘what if we could do the same with bullets?’.” He paused and looked at her. “Pretty interesting isn’t it? What if we could spin the bullets as it leaves the muzzle of the handgun. Knowing Grandpa, he would probably find a way to do so. I simply suggested that, maybe he could carve the insides of the muzzle of the handgun, in a way that it would make the bullet spin in a controlled fashion. Like carving grooves inside it. I called it ‘rifling’ and he seemed to like the word.”

“You seem to have a penchant for discovering new words. There’s ‘sweetcorn’ and now you’re calling the feral monsters of Lustria ‘dinosaurs’. I sometimes ask myself, where you’re getting this information from. Because I read everything in that library.”

“You have? That’s surprising considering you have blonde hair.” He was genuinely surprised which made her more annoyed.

“What’s the colour of my hair got to do with my intelligence?”

“Nothing. Well… I got a sponge cake to bake for you my lady. Hans, want to help me?” Reinhard then took a wooden bowl and started to crack eggs into it and poured flour and other ingredients. He was helped by another cook who diligently stirred it and checked the oven’s temperature.

After several minutes has passed, they put a slurry of mixture into the oven and waited. “That should be done when breakfast is ready.”

She exited the kitchen and was excited to eat that cake. Then she spotted someone in the balcony wearing a hood which concealed their face. Hurriedly, she came towards the unknown person. “Milady, some pieces of information for you.” The unknown but clearly female spy gave her a piece of paper and jumped off the balcony.

Melinda opened the paper and started to read.

‘Several bold pirate ships spotted near Nahrstadt ports. Possible attack. Fleet numbering just above a dozen.’

Interesting piece of information. I think Emma and Master Hervig would appreciate this intelligence. Speaking of them, I think I should wake them up. This looks too urgent.

She ran towards the master bedroom and knocked and waited for the inevitable yell. “What do you want! The sun hasn’t risen that much! Leave us alone!” Emma… Don’t change. She bit down a chuckle and looked at the information.

“Lady Emma and Lord Hervig, please let me in. It’s urgent.”

“Is it Anna with the nightmares again? Let the governess deal with it. I’m still too sleepy.” Hervig moaned.

“Much, much urgent. Nahrstadt could be attacked in a few hours. Admiral Hofstein needs to be informed.”