The experience had been entirely too uncomfortable to be considered a ‘bath’. No matter how much she had adjusted, turned this way or that way, some part of her was always freezing cold. Getting dressed initially was not much better, the ‘pantalettes’ looked bulky but turned out to be made of light material so Olli was still cold in them. It made her actually grateful when Motzy started helping her into what seemed to be an endless amount of skirts she called ‘petticoats’ and stockings.

Olli’s short hair had proved a source of both concern and easier work for Motzy. “Chopping off the hair of a young lady! Probably to sell for cheap wigs. Disgusting. At least it means a bit less o’ the dirt and miasma clinging to you. But! We must have it grown back at a good length.” She said as she combed through the short strands. “A good healthy length!”

Sitting still at the desk, facing a small mirror Motzy had moved atop it, Olli submitted to the combing quietly and just happy to not feel quite cold anymore.

“You are an awfully quiet one,” Motzy said.

Olli was indeed quiet. She did not have much to say at all but she began to feel a tinge of strange guilt for sitting so quietly. Motzy’s warm face was lined and somewhat flat and her hair was hidden beneath a cap, it gave her a grandmotherly appearance and some tiny piece of resistance to something fell inside of Olli. Bravely with a sudden surge of gregariousness Olli said, “is Theodore always mean?”

“The-theo…?” Motzy stopped combing for a moment, sputtering. “Oh, little Miss, you shouldn’t just call him by his name like that. It’s very disrespectful. He’s an earl!”

“Is he a mean earl?”

“No!” Motzy shook her head quickly, “well. It’s fairer to say he’s a man of very thin patience and very strong convictions. He’s always been that way since he was a weeee little thing. In fact, back when his mother was still alive and when Maya was still here, even then he was rather… easy to make cross. But it was so easy because he had such a backbone! I have never seen a child be so resolutely against their own mother’s vices, you know. Dear me, please do not repeat what I said, he does not like the deceased Countess brought up, not at all. They were complete opposites. Both had thin patience, but that was all I can say was similar.”

In Olli’s truthfully limited life experience, adults with ‘thin patience’ were not very nice at all.

“If he’s appeared cross, it is not you, truly!” Motzy continued on as she placed the comb down on a white cloth she had laid on the table. With the hair done, or as done as short hair could be, Motzy gently took Olli’s hands and helped her off the chair. “Y’see, by the time of Saint Clara’s Day, he had already been undergoing quite some trouble at the House of Lords-forgive me I do not involve myself much with politics but I do tend to overhear much-with arguments about an Act or some such while also arranging the invitations for the Saint Clara’s Day celebration and that ‘tis no easy thing when you are so far south. Just three weeks earlier however there had been a massive fire at a dye factory and he had been asked to spare some money as a donation to the factory so it could support its workers.” Motzy sighed heavily and wiped her hands on her dark stained apron, “there were road issues due to the rain, and he had to get you as well, and still make it back home in time before Saint Clara’s children found any of you!”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Olli nodded as though she understood everything that Motzy was saying just fine even though that was very much untrue.

Motzy looked out the window briefly before turning her gaze back to Olli, “oh and while you were out-and you were out for quite a bit! Had us all very worried! Mister Gores asked if a casket should be made and well I did not find it very funny-while you were out we also had a great many different sorts come. See, we had deliveries to attend to, and there were visitors, and we had to make visits as well. The Graef have lived in the Brynebourne for hundreds upon hundreds of years and every time they have returned from abyss-knows-what that took them away they have to make their visits to the villages, the towns, the who-is-who and all sorts. His lordship ended up spending a week in Paeth to see progress on a new commons in the middle and then going straight to Stowell and well that just happens to be near the Baron de Maursagille’s home so I presume he was unable to escape a visit.”

“Huh,” Olli nodded her head, still very much not understanding a single thing from Motzy’s mouth, but at least Motzy seemed happy. Unfortunately, the floor was cold enough it was beginning to sink past Olli’s stockings so she was wishing Motzy would take her somewhere besides the bedroom now. Or give her shoes, at least.

“Well!” Motzy clapped her hands together, “let us get you something to eat. It will be something light, of course, but something light is a good way to wake up the stomach after a long illness.” She gently took Olli’s hand in her own large warm callused one and pulled her gently to the door as she continued speaking. “Oh it’s a shame we papered up the door to the day nursery, but I’m sure it’ll be fixed soon enough.” Motzy pointed at a spot on the wall, “there is a door there, you cannot tell because of the papering. I told him that we should keep you in the other room but he said this one would be much warmer.”

Olli glanced around at the room and realized it was indeed different from the one she had been in the first night, although now her memory of the night had become garbled among hazy images of stairs and red sunlight streaking the walls like blood and bodies… she shuddered.

“Are you cold? Would you like a shawl?”

“No…” Olli mumbled.

“Ah yes, and put these on,” Motzy pushed with her boot a pair of slippers. Olli dutifully put them on, a small barrier of wood, cotton, and wool now separating the soles of her feet from the cold wooden floor. “I made them! They are not quite as fancy as what a cobbler could do but I figure they were good enough until you visited a proper shoe maker. My brother-in-law made shoes and I daresay I did pick up a few things from him at least.”

Past the door they entered a long corridor that went straight to a flight of stairs at one end and ended at a window on the other end. The walls were a dark off-green color, the portraits of people who all vaguely resembled Theodore stared down at Olli with the same tired but stern gaze. Some of the paintings were landscapes of windswept seas, dying fields, and shivering forests in the decaying days of autumn, mixed with the coloring of the walls, the dark wooden floors that creaked pitifully with every few steps, the entire corridor had the air of something quietly moldering away.

Down the stairs to a large open hallway, where Olli was quickly led to a set of double doors that Motzy pushed open for her. Inside it was surprisingly cramped looking despite the window across from the door giving everything an airy feeling. There was a round table with seven chairs surrounding it, but also there were wooden bookcases that did not contain books but random knick-knacks such as small carved statuettes, a line of dolls, or fine china. There was a small fireplace that would barely fit two logs inside of it, and on its mantle were several more random objects like a tiny metal teapot, cups, a symbol made of gold that looked a little like a skull, and a silhouette in a gilt frame.

Motzy pushed Olli gently to sit down at the table and clapped her hands together, “well! I told that girl to put the food out but it seems she forgot!” She huffed lightly, “oh well, oh well, we all forget. I will be right back Miss Olli!”

With that, Olli was alone again.