The teacup gently clinked against the saucer in Priscilla’s hands. The sunlight warmed the room against the autumn chill, and the colored leaves flew on the breeze. However, Priscilla couldn’t focus on the beauty outside.
The weight of her work hung at the back of her mind. The countless hours spent pouring over financials, project planning, and population reformation were burned into her eyes. The amount of information she’s gone through has left her mind reeling, and it didn’t help that a particular noble kept bothering her.
“And so, I told him the reason why our wine is always red is because our peasants keep crushing their hands in the press.” Lord Olivar’s stomach shook violently with his laughter. The loud snort he produced assaulted her ears.
“That sounds terrible.” Priscilla replied, not hiding her sneer.
“It’s their own fault.” Olivar scoffed, draining his tea in a single gulp. He held his cup towards his slave, and as she bent over to fill it, his eyes drank in her exposed cleavage. “How hard is it to operate a wine press anyway?”
“Your domain doesn’t use the standard press master.” Myraelle replied with a small frown.
Olivar dismissed her comment with a wave. “Of course not, we are the major producer of wine for Mrytha, and we need presses that can squeeze every last drop out of our grapes.” A twisted smile formed on his lips. “Besides, we were told these presses fool proof, but that clearly isn’t the case.”
Hearing the contempt in his voice made Priscilla’s blood burn, but a knock on the door stopped her from speaking. Lana approached the door and spoke to the servant on the other side. Hope warmed her heart as Lana’s words rang pleasantly in her ears.
“Your Grace, Lady Meridith is here to see you.”
The widest smile appeared on Priscilla’s lips. “If you’ll excuse my Lord Olivar, but I’m needed elsewhere.”
“Surely it can wait!” Olivar stammered, stepping towards her.
“I’m afraid it can’t.” Priscilla said, quickly stepping away. “It concerns the renovations to the lower city.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” Priscilla’s sweet smile contained a trace of her disdain for him. “This is an important individual, and I can’t simply dismiss her. Now, please excuse me.”
She couldn’t get out of that room fast enough, and despite his large size, Olivar followed right behind her. His wheezing grated her nerves as he tried to talk to her, but the thought of having enjoyable company kept her anger in check. Thankfully, Sir Kogna came around the corner, and a slight heat came to her cheeks.
“Lord Olivar, please, I must attend this meeting.” Priscilla sighed, giving Kogna a pleading glance.
“Tending to the city is beyond you. You should be learning to manage a household, not a city.” Olivar’s face was red with anger and exhaustion, but Kogna stepped in his way. Despite being roughly the same size, Kogna seemed to tower over the lord.
“My Lady has asked you to leave sir.” Kogna replied stoically, his hand resting on his sword hilt. Olivar glared at Kogna, his eyes glancing between the sword and the man’s thick chest. With a huff, the large noble stormed away, cursing under his breath.
“Thank you, sir Kogna.” Priscilla sighed in relief.
“No need, my lady,” Kogna said, “I am here to serve.”
The flush on her face expanded at his words as did her smile, and she quickly turned away to avoid any embarrassment. With a deep breath, she stepped into the sitting room.
Lady Meridith sat on one of the sofa’s, sipping from a steaming cup. Behind her, stood her Amu’Ryjin attendant, her hands clasped over a glossy leather folder. Both women turned to them and respectfully addressed them.
“Are you alright, my lady?” Meridith said, her eyes flashing to Kogna with a stern shine. “It sounded like there was a commotion outside.”
“Simply a pest that wouldn’t leave me alone.” Priscilla said politely as she took a seat. “How have things been for you all?”
“We have been doing very well.” Meridith smiled warmly, but there was a small twitch beneath her right eye. “Thanks to your involvement, we’ve rebuilt the lower square faster than we expected, and we found artisans to manage our shops.”
“That’s excellent news!” Priscilla’s smile widened. Her shoulders relaxed at the news. “That helps take a great weight off me.” She chuckled nervously. “From all the reports I’ve received, I feared no one would fill the positions, but now, we can truly start rebuilding.”
Meridith’s smile falters. “My lady, you need not bear this burden. Our master will gladly bear the responsibility.”
“No!” Priscilla straightened herself. “My father and brother have placed this project in my hands, and I can’t let them down. I won’t let them down.” Her shoulders slumped as a pang struck behind her eyes. “I wish I knew how though.” Tears shined in her eyes as she looked at Meridith. “How does master Legion do it?”
Meridith sighed, staring worriedly at the girl. “He is not a normal man, my lady. I fear that you’ll lose your way should you follow him.”
“Please, there must be something. I feel like I drowning in sheets of paper, and I see numbers everywhere!”
“Don’t you have clerks to help you?”
A tired sigh escaped her lips. “I’ve tried to recruit staffs for the project, and I even asked my father for help, but none of them have their heart in it.”
“I see.” Meridith sat there nibbling on her lower lip. She nodded, looking to the young noble. “Very well, we can go see master Legion.” Her eyes lingered on the girl. “But I fear you won’t care for his methods.”
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Priscilla twisted her hands nervously as the carriage moved through the streets. She was amazed at how clean the streets of the lower city were now. Of course, it was the main road, but it was a step in the right direction. As the carriage headed into the main square, she marveled at how different it looked.
The rickety stalls were replaced with newly made ones. The condemned buildings were torn down, leaving only the stone foundations with the skeletal supports for new buildings. Near the tavern stood a large two-storied building with a forge on one side and a carpenter’s shack on the other.
“Do you like our new store.” Meridith chuckled over her shoulder. “We found the staff to operate it a few days ago. They were the ones to make these new stalls.”
“The square looks wonderful. I can’t wait to see it when the buildings are finally finished.” Priscilla smiled at her. The carriage rattled to a stop, and they stepped into the tavern.
The sweet, warmth of freshly baked pastries assaulted her nose, and her stomach growled at the wonderful smell. The beautiful hostess manning the bar curtsied as they approached.
“Welcome back your grace.” Ada gave her a motherly smile. “It is an honor to have you in our humble establishment.”
The pounding of footsteps came from the back. Vaera ran past the bar, through the common room, and embraced Priscilla in a tight hug.
“Welcome back!” The servant girl laughed as the two of them spun around.
“It’s good to be back.” Priscilla held her friend close. The warm embrace helped ease some of her tensions.
“Vaera, show the young lady some respect!” Yula snapped. Vaera pouted, backed away, and curtsied to her.
“There’s no need for that.” Priscilla smirked, pulling Vaera into another tight hug. “We’re friends after all.” Yula sighed but nodded in acceptance.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, my lady?” Ada said, gesturing to a table.
“I’m here to see master Legion.”
Ada’s smile faltered, as did Meridith’s and Mina’s. “Master Legion is occupied at the moment.” There was a strange pause in her words. “Why not avail yourself with our services while I go get him ready.” She gave Meridith a tight smile. “I’ll need your help, ma’am.”
Fire burned in Meridith’s eyes. “Of course,” she said, “I’ll be back for your shortly, your grace.” Priscilla gave them a worried look as Vaera dragged her over to the bar.
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Meridith followed Ada to the stairs. “Is it her?” She couldn’t keep the snarl from her lips.
“Yes,” Ada replied with matching disgust, “She appeared without notice while you were away. I tried to stop her, but the snake slithered passed me.” They stepped into the basement and glared at the zymarrian woman.
The golden bangles on her wrists and ankles produced the music that fueled her dancing, and sickening sweet scent filled the air. Her loose clothing swirled around her, exposing large portions of her dark, scaly skin. Cynmora spun with seductive grace, and a wicked smile came to her lips when she spotted the women. Their glares hardened as the snake pulled away the few pieces of clothing covering her, and she tossed them aside playfully.
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“Enough of that!” Meridith stormed forward.
“I’m simply entertaining my master.” Cynmora’s smile widened at her anger. She grasped her hair and held it above her head, showing off her lustrous body. “No need for such hostility.” Meridith could only growl in response.
“How did your meeting with the Princess go?” Meridith turned her dark gaze towards Reviled. He sat in his box scribbling on several pieces of parchment, his eyes never leaving the lecherous snake.
“Well, she’s here.” Meridith snapped venomously, her hands resting on her hips.
Reviled’s crimson eyes flashed towards her. “What?”
Meridith couldn’t stop the smile from forming. “The Princess is upstairs. Should I send her away since you’re being… entertained?” She wanted to laugh as Cynmora glanced between them in confusion.
Silence filled the room.
“No.” Reviled pointed towards the cloak hanging next to the sewer door. “Bring me my cloak.” Meridith nodded, ready to fetch it, but Cynmora was faster. The zymarrian jumped onto the box and enveloped the monster with the cloak as she hugged him.
“Here you are master.” She said seductively, staring at Meridith.
Meridith sneered at Cynmora’s taunt and threw her clothes onto the box. “Get dressed snake. We don’t need to offend our guest.”
The zymarrian woman wrapped her arms and legs around the monster. “This should be enough covering.” She peeked over Reviled’s shoulder. “Besides, someone needs to hold the master’s shawl together.”
“Enough!” Reviled’s stern tone hushed both women. “Cynmora, put on your clothing. We don’t need to offend our Princess.” Meridith smiled as the snake shrank behind their master. The space around Reviled’s head shimmered as his illusionary face appeared. “Ada, we’re ready to receive her Grace.” Ada curtsied before turning away.
Cynmora sidled closer as she finished adjusting her clothing. “Who’s this handsome man?” She smirked, reaching to touch Reviled’s cheek.
“Do not touch!” Cynmora snapped her hand back, her eyes wide with fear. “You’ll break the illusion.” Reviled shifted, staring at the door. “Stay behind me and to my left and don’t speak unless I tell you.”
“Yes master.” Seeing the zymarrian woman be reprimanded help brought a smile to Meridith’s lips.
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Priscilla took several deep breaths to calm herself as she followed Ada and Mina downstairs. Despite the numerous times she had spoken with master Legion, she couldn’t help but be nervous. There was something unnatural about the man, but after seeing how much the slums had changed, it was clear that he was someone with great insight. As the door to the basement opened, Priscilla took one last breath as she stood straight.
She was assaulted with a sudden sweet smell that reminded her of honey and flowers, but she steeled herself with a small cough. The lanterns on the wall bathed the room in warm light, but there were still enough shadows clinging to the corners to give it an air of secrecy. It was a room befitting the man smiling at her.
Master Legion bowed deeply. “It is an honor to be in your presence, your Grace.” His deep voice brought out the goosebumps on her arms. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been well.” Priscilla tried keeping her smile from breaking as she kneeled on the plush pillow. Not having a proper seat to sit in was another reason why meeting the man threw her off. Her eyes suddenly fell to the woman sitting behind him.
This wasn’t her first time seeing a zymarrian, but it was due to her attire that made her stand out. The two rose colored pieces of silk covering her chest along with the long flowing sleeves and golden bangles accentuated her exotic beauty. The shadows of the box were the only thing covering her exposed legs, but occasionally the light would reflect off the golden rings around her ankles. Another sensual beauty in this man’s growing collection.
“Does her attire offend you?” Master Legion’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“No,” She said, silently scolding herself when she stuttered. “I was simply admiring her beauty is all.”
“Cynmora is definitely a rare beauty.” The master chuckled as the zymarrian straightened in pride at the compliment. The other women seemed oddly dismissive though. “So, how may we be of service, your Grace?”
“I’ve come seeking advice.” Priscilla quickly glanced over to Meridith, and she nodded encouragingly. “I’ve been having trouble overseeing our project. I’m drowning in paperwork with no help, and no matter what I do, it keeps getting worse.” A heavy sigh escaped her lips as her shoulders slumped. “I fear that it may be too much for me.”
“Do you not have attendants and scribes to help you?”
“I’ve tried, but most find some reason to avoid helping, and the ones that do aren’t giving their all.” She clutched tightly at her skirt as her stomach tightened.
She was aware of the rumors. That the project was a waste of resources. That her father had no real faith in the project. That she should focus more on her other studies and learn to be a wife. The contempt of those in the castle stirred something inside her, and she bit her lip as her vision started blurring.
“It sounds as if your staff doesn’t respect your authority.” A low growl escaped master Legion’s lips. “It seems you are in need of a lesson on how to use it.”
His words struck her pride. “I know how to order staff around.”
“Authority is much more than simply ordering people around.” Legion’s sharp laugh stirred her ire. “Authority is the power of respect.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ada, our meeting with her grace is over. See her out.”
“But I still need your help!” Priscilla cried as Ada headed towards the door.
“I’m sorry my lady, but the master has concluded this meeting.” Ada said with a pitiful smile.
“No, I still need to talk to him.” Tears streamed down her face as she looked for help. Mina kept her gaze to the floor, Cynmora sat there uninterested, and Meridith merely gazed sympathetically at her. Priscilla’s stomach twisted in knots when she realized none of them were going to help her.
A hand gingerly touched her shoulder. “Come, my lady.” She stared mortified as Lana stood over her. It was too much, and all she could do was cry into her hands.
“Do you understand now.” Priscilla wiped the tears only for more to blur her eyes. “Authority can bend others to your will through words alone. To supplant loyalties, establish hierarchies, and even change the opinions of others.” A comforting arm wrapped around her shoulders as someone dabbed the tears from her face. “Forgive us child, but we felt it was best to explain through example.”
Her tears finally stopped, but it felt like a greater weight was on her shoulders. The gravity of the situation sunk into her. She was the daughter of the Duke. Hundreds of servants obeyed her words, yet he had easily dismissed her like the child she was.
“I have no authority.” Priscilla’s voice came out hollow and broken.
“Correct.”
“How do I acquire it?”
“Through respect,” Legion said, “The more others respect you, the more authority you have.”
“But I’m the Duke’s daughter. How do I acquire more respect?”
“Through your actions. For example, punishing them when they do wrong.” He gazed over his shoulder at the zymarrian. “Cynmora, you were supposed to be training with Taela today, and yet you decided to come here instead.”
Cynmora started screaming in pain, grasping at her lower back. As the zymarrian writhed in pain, she twisted in a way that revealed the glowing slave crest on her back. When it finally stopped glowing, it left the poor woman gasping from breath. A light snicker came from Meridith as she watched Cynmora struggle back into position.
Master Legion glared at his attendant. “Her punishment is not for your amusement.” Meridith howled in pain as she clutched at her stomach. The other two women at his side glanced away. Finally, Meridith stopped screaming, but she remained on the floor. “Punishing your subordinates when they fail helps establish order. There is nothing worse than a disrespectful servant.” Slowly, the two women sat up, but the pain was still evident on their face.
“You enslaved them?” Priscilla whispered, staring at both women.
“Yes, it is the fastest way to establish order,” Master Legion replied, “Another way to establish respect is by rewarding excellent behavior. Ada, Mina, for behaving well, you shall receive a bonus on your next stipend.”
“Thank you master.” Both women said warmly.
“But…”
“Don’t, my lady.” Lana whispered into her ear.
“Slaver is wrong!” Priscilla turned to Lana, but the fire within her faded when she saw the fear in her handmaid’s eyes.
“Child.” Priscilla found herself silenced by his stern voice. “You are a noble, and yet before me you are nothing more than a little girl. Even your own handmaid has fallen sway to my authority.”
She looked around at the women. Both Meridith and Cynmora regained their positions and smiled warmly at her. When their eyes would glance at their master, a gleam of awe and fear filled them. It was even apparent in both Mina and Ada. Oddly enough, it reminded her of how some servants would look at her father.
Priscilla bowed deeply. “Thank you for this lesson.” She rose with a polite with a grateful smile. “You have shown me the error of my ways. I hope you will continue to be of service to me.”
“Of course, child.”
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The weight of the lesson that Master Legion gave still weighed heavily at the back of Priscilla’s mind as she walked down the familiar halls. Lana silently followed behind, clearly still shaken from the incident. Her warm brown eye no longer held their mischievous shine. Sir Kogna followed next to Lana, his eyes ever vigilant. The sky outside was starting to turn shades of pink as she approached her father’s office. With a soft knock, she waited for her father’s approval.
“Enter.” Priscilla smoothed out her dress as she stepped inside. Her father sat at his desk, sipping on a glass of wine, but he smiled brightly at her as she entered. “Is there something you need sweetheart?”
“Father, I have a question about the lower city project.” Her father sat up straight with concern in her eyes. “Is it a project you’re truly committed to?”
“Of course, I am,” The Duke said, “Our people’s wellbeing means everything to me, and from the reports I’m receiving from Cromwell, it looks to be going in the right direction.”
The tension gripping her heart eased. “It is, master Legion is making great strides, but I fear our commitment isn’t matching his own.” She took a deep breath as she stared into her father’s eyes. “The castle staff has shown nothing but contempt for this project, and I’m afraid they don’t have the same commitment as we do.”
“Is that so.” Her father tapped his desk. He quickly grabbed a small parchment, quickly wrote on it, and stamped his seal in wax. “This should change their minds.” He stepped away from his desk to hand her the paper.
Priscilla quickly scanned the parchment and gave her father a warm smile. “Thank you, father.” She wiped the tears forming in her eyes. “I greatly needed this.”
Her father tightly hugged her. “Forgive me Priscilla. I’ve been doing this for so long that I didn’t realize you were suffering.” He gently kissed her forehead with a warm smile. “Now go with my blessing and authority.”
Her father’s words greatly lightened her worries, and she found her steps light as she stepped out of the office. With the writ firmly in hand, Priscilla stormed through the castle with a sense of purpose. However, it was dashed when she entered the scribes offices.
“Lady Priscilla, how may I be of service?” The Head scribe said with an amused smile.
“I’m looking for the master Hane and Balthazaar. They were going over some documents concerning the lower city renovations.”
“I’m afraid they’ve been busy all morning, my lady.” The Head Scribe shrugged. “But I’m certain they’ll get you the documents at some point.”
Priscilla took a deep breath. “That is unacceptable!” She replied with a stern gaze. “I’ve been waiting on those documents for over a week. If master Hane and Balthazaar don’t get me those documents by tomorrow morning, then I’ll be forced to terminate their services.”
The Head Scribe chuckled at her. “I’m certain they won’t mind much.”
“I fear you misunderstand.” Priscilla smiled cruelly as she held out the writ. “If they don’t get me those documents tomorrow, then they’re fired.” Her voice carried throughout the room.
“I beg your pardon!”
“The Duke has bestowed me with a Writ of Authority.” A buzz ran through her as the scribes all turned to her. “He is most displeased that his staff isn’t committed to this project, so he’s given me the authority to change that. I need to see master Hane and Balthazaar now!”
Two scribes scurried up from their desks. “You called, my lady.” They both smiled nervously at her.
“Those documents on the renovations, where are they?”
“We… haven’t gotten to them yet, my lady?”
“Then I suggest you start because I’m expecting them in the morning. If I don’t have them, then I’ll have Sir Kogna escort you out. Am I clear?” Both scribes nodded vigorously, their eyes wide. “Good. Now is mistress Sasha here?”
“Yes, my lady!” Another scribe jumped from her desk.
“I’m grateful for you getting me those financial reports to me in a timely manner.” She smiled warmly at the thin woman which caused her to blush. “You can expect a bonus when you next get paid.”
“Thank you, my lady!”
Priscilla’s smile faded when she noticed the two scribes staring at her dumbfounded. “Shouldn’t you be working on those documents?” Her smile returned when the two men ran away. “I expect those three to be working solely on the renovation project.” She turned, storming out of the room.
“Of course, my lady.” She smirked at the Head Scribe’s stutter.