Spluttering and gasping for air, I tried to keep my head above water. My nose and throat burned, and I took heaving breaths, gurgling and gulping.

Help.

I couldn’t speak.

Help me, please!

My limbs flailed as I struggled against the arms holding me down.

There was a splash of frigid water that sobered my mind.

A maid stood by my bed, watching me. She wore a black uniform, her white apron yellowed and stained with brown spots. A pail was in her hand, and another empty one was on the floor. She didn’t bother to hide her disgust. “Wha’ you making all tha’ racket for?” Her accent was as deplorable as her conduct. A sneer distorted her pretty face, pale and dotted with freckles across her cheeks.

I ducked my head. The onslaught of emotions was so overwhelming. I felt raw, jumping from a cold, hollow echo to flashes of intensity that left me clammy and uncertain. There were moments when things felt distant and others when I felt too much.

My emotions were a swinging pendulum, refusing to settle. I slumped back in bed, the heels of my hands pressed to my eyes, a scream trapped in my throat.

I don’t want to do this.

It seemed easy when I planned it alone, locked away and protected from the horrors I’d have to endure.

I yelled as she yanked my arm, dragging me out of bed, my legs catching on the sheets, and throwing me forward as my knees buckled. The little strength I had left my body. I landed hard on my knees, jaw snapping shut, teeth-rattling, and my ears ringing. I was already weak from hunger and from being startled awake.

“Can’ you not give problems? Look a’ th’ mess you made tha’ I will have to clean up,” she said. Her voice was low and would have been pleasant if not for the petulant whine that sounded comical with her naturally sultry tone. I bit my lips, swallowing the vomit that burned the back of my throat.

I was the one giving problems?

I wanted to spit in her eyes, but had to close mine as spots danced before me, my vision blurring. If this carried on, I would pass out.

She shook me. “Get up. Get up. Why I go’ to be in problems for you?” Her nails bit into the flesh of my arms. She regarded me suspiciously and seemed to search for something in my face. “This is your plan. You wan’ta get me in trouble.”

I tried to push her away, but my limbs were putty. There was a rank smell coming from her dress. I gagged, trying to shift my head, but she grabbed my hair, jerking me back.

It was too much.

I threw up. Yellowy-green bile splattered on her dress and dribbled down my chin. She ripped my head back, making a sound of disgust, and I choked before she threw me to the floor.

Coughs wracked my body as I struggled to breathe.

I didn’t get a moment to pull myself together before she yanked at my dress. When nothing she did could get it off, she got a pair of scissors and cut at the fabric.

“Ain’t nothing noble about you. But. Still, you go’ a meeting with th’ Duke. Go’ a be clean.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me along. “Why I go’ to do this? Draw a short straw tha’ why.”

I half-crawled to the tub as she dragged me along. When at the edge of the bath, she didn’t hesitate to push me in, the cold water making my teeth chatter. Instinct had me attempting to crawl out, but she suppressed me.

I looked at her, steering into her eyes only to be taken back when I didn’t see any malice, only determination. She pressed her lips, scrubbing at my skin unseeing, almost peeling off a layer of skin.

What is this?

“Ahmm.”

My head snapped around. At the door stood a portly woman who wore a modest green dress that covered everything but her hands and face. She had her hair pulled into a bun that was so tight it stretched the skin of her face.

Madaline, the housekeeper or matron of the keep, I couldn’t forget her.

I trusted her.

No, this is where I started trusting her.

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I looked between her and the maid, who was attempting to rip my hair out in the guise of washing it, a sinking feeling lodging in my gut.

“Helga, that is no way to treat the young lady,” she said, her voice pitched low in a stern tone. Madaline moved closer, the chatelaine at her waist clanking with every step.

“This ain’t no lady. Tha’ is worse than the street rats down by the slums.” Helga, that was her name, maybe. My instinct was to trust anything Madaline said, but the more I thought about it, the more wrong this felt.

It was too precise, choreographed, even.

The servants were never polite to me, but this was the first instance of outright violence. I thought back to what happened the first time. I couldn’t remember if it was the same maid, but something similar occurred. Only I’d been awake, and she threw the water at me while I stood cursing. She’d also done it in retaliation, I think. I remembered insulting the maid first. Madaline still came in at the same point when the maid forced me into the bath.

Why was Helga carrying two pails of ice-cold water with her? I never questioned it.

Since they allowed any rabble off the street to serve me, they often behaved in a way that got them fired quickly. I never thought much of it.

Around this time, a maid seduced my oldest brother. She had some success, but he later kicked her out.

No. That didn’t make sense.

I lost that train of thought as Madaline spoke. “Your actions are inexcusable. As servants of the Duchy, employees should uphold a certain standard regardless of their personal views. This treatment of your charge is deplorable, and I won’t allow it. Please leave. I want you to report to the head butler. He will know what to do with you.”

I blinked. Those words were the same. What a beautiful play. Fifteen-year-old me was taken in by this, enamored by the first person to protect me. Not even a little suspicious. Madaline wasn’t even doing anything great. She won my loyalty and trust with the bare minimum.

“My lady,” she said, coming to my side as Helga tried to slink out of the room, but her steps were wrong, an excited hop instead of dread at being fired. Madaline didn’t pause. “I can’t believe this has been happening. No more. I won’t allow it anymore. I have a niece who I raised at my side and she will take over my position in the future. That girl is still a bit clumsy, but she will serve you wholeheartedly. Why don’t you meet her and then decide?” The tone of righteous indignation was just right.

I marveled, knowing I should take notes. This behavior needed to be studied and emulated if I wanted to be anything other than a loser. The awful bitter thing in my stomach wreathed. I died not suspecting Madeline, cherishing my few memories of her and Cathrine as the only ones who were kind to me when I lived in the Ducky.

Asking me to decide was a nice touch. It inflated my ego and gave me a taste of sovereignty and control over my life. I tried to think of an age-appropriate response but drew a blank. I was over forty when I died, and it was hard to remember what happened when I was fifteen, much less how I behaved. Young, stupid, reckless, and willful was the character I would try to portray. I hadn’t interacted with these people often and hoped they wouldn’t notice the change in my behavior. The best thing working for me was the preconceived notions they already had. They probably wouldn’t suspect the useless thing they looked down on to become smart. “The water. It’s cold,” I said. I didn’t need to fake the effect of my teeth chattering.

“Silly me. Catherine?” she called, moving closer to the tub. A touch of her finger to the water turned it warm. “Poor dear. Why don’t you take a few moments to warm up?”

A girl a few years older than me came into the room. She wore a gray uniform with a white apron, marking her as different from others. She was a lady’s maid.

I was so flattered. I peeked at Catherine with sparkling eyes, accepting that I'd lived my whole life in vain as a hopeless idiot.

Cathrine followed me even after I married, but when she was twenty, she returned to the Duchy to get married.

Fond days, when she advised me on everything, and we were, in my eyes, the best of friends.

“Hello.” I kept my shoulder hunched, head low. A part of me still hoped, unwilling to give up on the relationship we could have.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” She bowed, her posture perfect. Madaline gave a satisfied hum. “Alright. That is more like it. I still have other things that I need to do. Don’t worry, Third Miss, I will check in to ensure Catherine is doing her job properly. You can also lodge a complaint if her service isn’t satisfactory.”

“Thank you.” I stood with the help of Catherine. I looked down and stared in shock at the state of my body. My hip and rib bones were protruding through paper-thin skin under which a maze of green wormy veins lay.

“It’s what I should do.” She glanced at my body before looking away. With a nod to Catherine, she was out the door.

Really, the barest minimum.

“Why don’t we get you dressed while I ring for breakfast?”

I looked in the mirror, marveling. Catherine was a veritable treasure. It took special skill to style an outfit that clashed this much, despite using the best items in my wardrobe. She’d also picked a dress that highlighted the ugly necklace I wore. I caressed it before dropping it, where it nestled back into the ruffles at my neckline. Two days had passed since I promised to take it off, but I hadn’t yet.

“You are so beautiful,” she said, brushing my hair. “I’ve always heard about the distinct pink hair of the Kala Tribe, but this is my first time seeing it.” She twisted and twined until I wore braids and curls suited to a woman much older than I.

With my hairstyle, bruised skin, and gaunt features, I looked like a grandma-ghost. “No wonder so many of the maids are jealous of you. I’m glad that I will be the one serving at your side. I will have a bright future.” She didn’t complain when she picked through the jewelry scattered on the floor or kneel to search for bobby pins.

Just a steady stream of shameless flattery that went on from the moment she helped me out of the bath until now. She didn’t bother with this much after today in my past life. She didn’t have to, having completely won me over.

With the last pin in place, she said, “it’s time to meet the Duke.”

But I haven’t eaten…, the words died before I said them. It was for the best. At least, now I wouldn’t vomit on the duke like I did the last time.

I couldn’t help wondering what else would change.