Given the circumstances, it was perhaps unsurprising that the young Lady Alicia Senius had something of a temper. It was a poorly kept secret among the servants, and what had once been merely the tantrums of a toddler or the fits of a child had progressed to the melodramatic rages of a twelve-year-old, one with an unfortunately good aim. The young lady had been well trained in maintaining a ladylike civility around her parents and other gentry, which only meant that she often took her anger out on the maids and pages. As a result most of the household staff had learned to avoid the girl whenever she was in a mercurial mood.

Lucille, however, had no such luxury. On reflex, she ducked beneath a heavily embroidered pillow that went sailing just over her head, colliding with the wall behind her. She had been working as a maid for the Senius household for just over four years now. A few months back, she made a mistake with the linen that left her on the wrong side of the head maid, Mrs. Crawford. As a result, Lucille had found herself assigned to be the young lady’s personal maid ever since.

“My lady, if you would just calm down—” was as far as she got before another pillow collided with her face.

“Calm down?” Alicia asked incredulously. She was standing in the middle of her bedroom, breathing as heavily as her corset would allow. “And how do you expect me to calm down when the brooch is missing?”

“My lady, I’m sure it will turn up,” Lucille replied. Alicia just scoffed and turned away, trying to discreetly wipe angry tears off her face. “May I suggest a different brooch, my lady?”

Alicia gave her a look of contempt but said nothing. Carefully, Lucille crossed the room to stand next to her charge. She placed one hand calmingly on Alicia’s shoulder and searched the jewelry box for a suitable substitute. “Perhaps… perhaps the jade?”

Alicia huffed, but she relented. Carefully, Lucille pulled the new brooch out, a gold-wrought flower that was studded with dark green jade as petals. Carefully, making sure that she didn’t prick the soft skin beneath the fabric, she pinned the brooch over Alicia’s collarbone. The maid wanted to sigh in relief, but she resisted the urge. It was always an ordeal to help her charge get dressed, but today had been far worse than usual. Not only was Alicia’s dress far more complicated than usual—after all, it had been purchased specifically for the ceremony—but the lady had been squirming and complaining the whole time, especially when Lucille began to tighten the whalebone corset. The lady was not yet at the point where she regularly wore makeup, as well, so that had been an additional challenge. Not to mention the issue of the missing brooch, but Lucille was fairly certain that she knew where the missing jewelry could be found.

Still, it was worth all the trouble. Despite her personality, nobody could deny that Lady Alicia had always been a pretty child. She had clear fair skin, long blond hair that fell in natural curls down her back, and piercing violet eyes. Her dress was made of a dark purple silk that matched her eyes, with golden thread embroidery around the trim in the shape of daffodils. It was cut in the latest style, with a deep waist, long sleeves, and a wide skirt supported by her crinoline petticoat. The jade broach provided a nice contrast to the dark purples, bringing the whole ensemble together. Even as Alicia glared and pouted, her appearance carried a sense of grace and poise that belied her young age. In that moment, Lucille was suddenly struck with the belief that the lady would grow up to be the kind of beauty that men fought wars over.

“Well then, my lady, shall we depart?”

“Fine,” Alicia replied. She checked her reflection one last time in the looking glass, and then she made her way out of her room and into the hallway.

Lucille followed a few steps behind; all servants were trained to be unobtrusive until called for. Lady Alicia made it quite easy, since she barely seemed to notice the servants unless she needed something. As they walked, they passed two maids who were dusting the portraits on the walls. Both of them stopped and dropped into a curtsey that Lucille noticed was just a hair too low. Alicia’s eyes just glanced over them, but Lucille took note of their faces and names.

Eventually, they made it to the grand staircase that led down to the entrance hall. At the bottom of the staircase, the Duchess Amber Senius watched her stepdaughter descend, showing no emotion. Other servants were moving through the entrance hall, preparing for the family’s imminent departure, but they all made sure to give the Duchess a wide berth. This close, Lucille could sense that Lady Alicia had gone stiff at the sight of the Duchess, and she stepped down the stairs with care and constructed poise.

“Your Grace,” Alicia said as she stepped onto the marble of the hall, dipping into a curtsey herself as she approached her stepmother. A few steps behind and to the side, Lucille mutely repeated the gesture. The Duchess dipped her head in acknowledgement.

The Duchess was tall and lean and when she moved it was with the grace of a wolf. Her face was classically beautiful, built like a marble statue, and her eyes were sharp and cold. Dark black hair like velvet was curled into a cascade that fell down her right shoulder. She was wearing a long blue dress embroidered with small hydrangeas, and as she waited she gently fanned herself with a black-lace folding fan. She glanced at Alicia and her mouth drew back to a thin line.

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“I see you’ve chosen not to wear the prince’s gift,” the Duchess said. Her voice was soft but there was a cold rigidity that lay beneath the surface.

Alicia flinched as if struck, but she managed to cover it with a curtsy. “It did not match the rest of my outfit, your Grace,” she said.

“And what do you think his Highness will say, if he hears that you’ve scorned his kindness?” The Duchess glanced down at the girl over the top of the fan.

Alicia looked toward the marble floor, avoiding the stare. “I will apologize the next time that I see him, if he asks,” she said softly.

“See that you do,” the Duchess responded. “And stand up straight,” Alicia quickly corrected her posture, standing as tall as she could.

The Duchess snapped her fan shut. “I said stand up straight, Alicia, not lock your spine. You look like a half-wit soldier who got caught lounging on watch.”

From the side of the room, Lucille watched with a mixture of sympathy and vindictive pleasure as Alicia went from standing up straight to a slight slouch, and then back again as the Duchess narrowed her eyes. The tall lady let the silence grow heavy, and then she flipped open her fan and started to slowly fan herself again. “Good gods. I see that I must have another word with your governess.”

“Your Grace?” A soft voice came from down the hall, accompanied by a set of refined footsteps. In contrast with the Duchess, Alicia’s governess was short and wore a simple brown dress. If her sudden appearance surprised the Duchess, the lady didn’t let it show.

“Ms. Hartwright, my daughter is in need of more lessons on posture. I have mentioned this to you once before; pray I don’t find cause to mention it again.”

“I will see to it, your Grace,” Ms. Hartwright responded, with eyes turned down and a curtsy in perfect form. The Duchess nodded in satisfaction but didn’t reply, letting the silence extend as she slowly fanned herself. Alicia had finally settled into one posture, but she too had her eyes cast down to the floor.

It wasn’t so much that Duchess Senius was a bad mistress, Lucille thought. After all, she never slapped the servants, nor did she have them fired for small offenses. But she was a harsh woman, one who had grown up in the cutthroat world of the Ludestre Court, and she had high expectations for those around her. She was not mercurial, per se, but it was hard to know what imperfections she might forgive and what she might take offense to. As such, the duchess could be a difficult woman to serve on the best of days, and when dealing with Alicia she was always at her most critical. A small part of Lucille took some pleasure in watching her Lady get humbled, but a much larger part just felt sympathy for the young girl.

Mercifully, the moment was broken by the arrival of the Duke and his son, exiting the study on the lower floor, and trailing after them the Duke’s manservant. Duke Edmund Senius was tall and broad shouldered, with a carefully regulated mustache and a handsome face marked by a scar on his chin and the fixed expression of a soldier, and his black hair was elegantly parted. He was dressed formally in a dark blue tailcoat with matching trousers, black riding boots, and a dark red cravat embroidered with wisteria vines. The Duke was no longer a young man, but neither was he old, and despite having grown out of her foolish girlhood Lucille still felt her heart skip a beat when he glanced her way.

The boy, Lord Lewis Senius, took after his father. His hair was also black and kept in much the same fashion, although he was far too young to grow a mustache. He was a gangly boy, already taller than his stepsister though two years younger, and he was still growing. The tailors had their work cut out for them, ensuring that the boy’s clothing stayed a close enough fit.

Currently, Lewis was looking up at his father and talking animatedly. “...and then General Loftstrong decided to retreat, but the enemy had them surrounded, so do you know what he decided to do?”

The Duke smiled at him, but placed a hand on his shoulder. “I do not, but let us save it for the carriage ride, alright?” He gestured at the ladies who had been waiting for them and were now watching the scene. “Good morning, Duchess. Alicia, congratulations on your Blooming.”

Lewis looked over the scene for the first time. When he saw Alicia, his face lit up with delight and he raced over toward her.

“Ally! Congratulations on your Blooming!” He held out his hands in excitement.

She took his hands and smiled stiffly. “Thank you, Lewis,” she replied.

The boy leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “what Blooms do you think you’ll get, Ally?”

Feeling a bit silly, she whispered back, “I don’t know, but… I’m hoping for Life or Soul.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them then,” he said, grinning at her.

The Duchess gave a light cough and everyone glanced her way. “Now that you’re here, dear husband, I believe that we should depart. It wouldn’t do for Alicia to be tardy to her own Blooming.”

“Then by all means, let us depart,” the Duke responded, and with that he led his family out to where the coaches were waiting. There were two, one for the family and the other for the servants. The main coach was one of the new magnolically powered designs with a sleek steel frame and a polished wood exterior. It had darkened glass windows and the interior was done up in a blue velvet that matched the paint on the outside. The coachman was already sitting on top, where he could use a set of levers and pulleys to steer and to control the release of the angeion into the magnolic formations that drove the wheels. Lucille herself didn’t know much about the technical details, and was quietly relieved to be traveling by the older carriage, which was perhaps less comfortable but was still drawn by old-fashioned but always reliable horses.

After she had helped the young Lady enter the magnolic coach, she joined Ms. Hartwright and the Duke’s manservant, Mr. Rowchest, in the servants’ coach. Then they were on their way, traveling from the Duke’s estate to the church in town where her charge would finally Bloom.