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PHYSIENTS WILL ALWAYS OFFER BEST NOVELS || LATEST MOVIES || LIVE STREAMING ALL TIME
GARDEN OF POISON
To balance the imbalance(Chapter 11)
After dinner, when the sky pulled the blanket of darkness with stars on it, Anastasia was back in her room doing what she loved the most.
She carefully used the small piece of charcoal to complete last night's sketch. Once she was done, a smile spread on her lips.
"It feels like home."
During her lonely days, Anastasia liked to stare at the sketches she had made that belonged to the place she came from. Seeing them, her dream to reuniting with her parents didn't seem that far away. She folded the mattress and took out the other sketches to look at them.
Outside Anastasia's room, one of the maids was heading to bed late when she noticed light spilling from under the room's door. Wondering what Anastasia was doing up so late, leaving the lamp burning for so long, the maid carefully turned the doorknob. Ready to ask, her lips parted along with the door before she stopped herself on seeing the sketches in Anastasia's hands.
'What are all these?' The maid questioned herself.
She saw Anastasia put them under her mattress. Without uttering a word, the maid closed the door and left the corridor.
The next day, Theresa burst through the door, while Anastasia was tying her hair. Entering the room, the older woman closed the door behind her. She said,
"I have been looking for you all over the kitchen. What are you doing?" She asked, even though she saw Anastasia braiding her hair on two sides of her head. The young woman pinned her braids from one side to the other over her crown.
Anastasia replied with a smile, "Isn't this a pretty hairstyle? Mary taught me how to do it a few weeks ago." She then asked, "Did you know that they removed the locks on our doors?"
"Come with me now, we have somewhere to go," Theresa pulled Anastasia out of her room. She then hurriedly whispered, "Orders have been given that the whole palace be decorated and to begin the preparations for Lady Sophia's birthday. A list of things have been demanded. Some of us maids have been picked and I chose you to assist me in the Bazaar."
A wide smile appeared on Anastasia's lips, and she placed her hand on her chest and then her heart before pointing it to the older woman.
"Yes, yes. I know you love me," Theresa chuckled as they made their way to the backside of the palace and left with the other maids to the town.
When they exited the palace with the carts, Anastasia's eyes were fixed at the front. She leaned towards Theresa when no one was looking, and she asked behind her scarf,
"Are we allowed to touch the camels?"
"I don't see why not, if you only want to pet them," Theresa replied. "They are gentle creatures, just big in size, but they are fast. If that's what you were meaning to ask."
Anastasia's brown eyes looked around, and she said, "Mary told me that there are majestic horses called mustangs."
"As you said, those are majestic horses and they are only used by the Blackthorn's royal family. Maybe a few high-positioned ministers, but that would be all. Affording even a camel is hard for people like us, we cannot afford mustangs even in our dreams."
"Are they in the stables?" Anastasia curiously asked as they left the gates of the outer palace.
Theresa's eyes shifted from the street to look at Anastasia, and she smiled queasily, "I am hoping your plan doesn't include the mustangs? Stealing is not a good trait, dear."
"You should tell that to the royal family," Anastasia replied with an innocent expression. And when the elderly woman gave her a stare, she nodded, "I am not a thief, I won't steal them. I was merely curious."
Anastasia knew what stealing warranted—losing one's limbs.
She needed to find a way to strike a deal with someone to get a camel for her and Mary. But the question was, how?
Once the royal family's servants reached the Bazaar, they split into different groups to speed up the shopping of items, so that they could return to the palace quickly. Anastasia was with Theresa when the elderly woman said,
"Go to the far side that meets near the wall on the right and see if they have the pots. It is the one which has smoke moving up its roof."
Nodding her head, Anastasia walked in the direction when she noticed someone familiar standing not too far from her. It was the young man she had seen the last time she was at the Bazaar. He appeared to be around her age, with a boyish smile on his lips, and his eyes peered at her. He had dried mud smeared on his face and neck.
"We meet again! It is good to see that the Bazaar has not scared you away. I don't think I have seen you around here before. At least not one who could use a ladle to beat a man," the young man laughed as he said it when she neared the end of the shop. Anastasia looked behind her to see if he was talking to someone, but he said, "I am talking to you, miss. I was hoping to catch you. I am Juan, what about you?"
Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Anastasia ignored the young man. Lowering her head, she made her way to the front of the shop. She moved her hands and fingers for the merchant to understand her requirements of the items.
After a minute, when she turned to look at where the man was standing earlier, she noticed him gone. The merchant returned with the pot she had earlier requested from him. She turned to the merchant, and asked him,
'How much is one camel for?'
"Hundred buckles for each. For three, I will give you all the three of them for two fifty buckles," the merchant answered her.
Anastasia had only three buckles in her dress pocket, two buckles that Theresa had given her. One for each of her birthdays. To have two fifty buckles, she didn't know how many months or years it would take to earn that much money. She could ask her sister Marianne, but she doubted apart from jewellery, she had any money.
She showed the seal of the royal family, who would be paying for it and began to walk with the pots. But the young man named Juan suddenly reappeared and asked, "Aren't you a maid of a household?"
Anastasia gasped, not expecting him to pop in front of her. She said, "Can you please not follow me!" She hid behind the wall of another shop when she saw one of the senior maids walking by. She turned around, behaving as if she was fixing the hem of her dress. She then asked him. "Is there something you want from me?"
"So you can speak," Juan stressed at the word 'can', while looking at her curiously, "I only wanted to make sure you are alright."
Anastasia pursed her lips and replied, "I am fine, thank you for your concern. I would appreciate it if you don't follow me."
"Why weren't you speaking earlier with the merchant with your voice? You have a beautiful voice," Juan offered her a child-like smile.
"I don't see any reason why it concerns you. Don't you have something else to do?" Anastasia asked Juan, who followed her footsteps by standing behind the wall. She noticed his shoes were covered in dried mud.
"I do, but I thought roaming the streets would be more fun," Juan adjusted his dirty cloak around his neck. When Anastasia was looking around, so did the young man, who then said, "You didn't tell me—"
"It is a secret I cannot share," Anastasia quickly replied.
"What about the camels?" Juan continued asking her questions. "Is that a secret too?"
This person asked too many questions and was too friendly, Anastasia thought to herself. Telling a half truth, she replied to the stranger, "I have never ridden a camel before."
Juan's mouth opened wide with an 'O' before it diminished, "Of course, why didn't I think about it. For a moment, I thought perhaps you wanted to go somewhere… while you sit on it," his smile lowered, when he noticed her stare. "Maybe next time when we meet, I can arrange one for you. My uncle has many camels. I don't think he would mind me borrowing one sometime?"
Anastasia wondered if perhaps this man would be the one to help her and her sister escape from this place. But no person was foolish enough to risk their own lives to help someone else, and it was the truth, she thought in her mind.
But it was worth trying rather than not doing anything at all, Anastasia said to herself. She replied, "Okay… It is a secret then." She also hoped by being nice to him, he would keep her secret safe.
Juan grinned as if happy and said, "It is a secret." He watched the pretty woman disappear in the bustling crowd, before realising, "I forgot to tell her when to meet next."
Anastasia walked back with the pot to where Theresa was waiting for her, and they continued to buy things.
Back in the Blackthorn palace, in the afternoon, on one of the longest balconies of the big and wide hall on the ground floor that led to the garden, sat the Mother Queen and King William. They were having their afternoon refreshments when one of the ministers came to meet them.
"King William, the letter from the Silversnow Kingdom has arrived," the minister offered the scroll to the king.
While King William was busy reading the scroll, the Mother Queen's eyes moved to the corner to look at where the minister stood and questioned, "How are the princes doing in the regiment force? Are they still alive?"
The minister bowed and replied, "They have been working hard in the practice battle ground, My Queen. But…"
"There it is. What is it?" the Mother Queen ordered, knowing there was no way things could go smoothly when it concerned the princes.
"Prince Aiden disappeared after thirty minutes and we have been looking for him ever since. Prince Victor has injured his elbow," the minister replied, half ashamed for being unable to keep an eye on a young man. "Prince Maxwell had a cramp in his back."
"Looks like my grandson is growing older faster than I am," the Mother Queen looked unimpressed.
"Victor is only thirteen, mother," King William folded the scroll as he had finished reading it.
"Your father was twelve when he went to the battlefield," the Mother Queen remarked.
King William handed the scroll to the minister and then turned to look at his mother, "I believe you are exaggerating things, mother."
"Maybe a little. But he was prepared when he was sixteen and was fearless. Talking about fearlessness," the Mother Queen raised her faint eyebrows in question to the minister, "Where is Dante? I haven't seen him since last evening."
"He must have gone to attend the burial of that traitor he killed," King William remarked, and noticing the minister's silence, he waved his hand to dismiss the minister.
The Mother Queen hummed as if in thought and chuckled dryly, "Only Dante would kill a person and also make sure the person is buried."
"Your bias is seen by everyone and there have been complaints, mother," King William commented, taking a bite from the biscuit on the tray.
"I wonder why that is," the Mother Queen responded, her gaze meeting King William's, who didn't remark on her words.
King William switched the subject and said, "The King of Silversnow has offered to send his soldiers to fight Brovia along our side. Dante will lead the attack and if all goes well, we will not only defend the borders but will also succeed in conquering Brovia."
"Is it necessary to send Dante?" She stared at her cup. "The last one he came from, he was severely injured. With Silversnow on our side, perhaps we can go easy."
King William sounded detached and said, "That's how wars are, mother. And Dante is experienced and was the one who insisted on leading the troops."
"Is that so…" the Mother Queen stood up from her chair and dusted the front of her dress, before walking back inside the palace.
The two maids waiting on the Mother Queen followed her. The maids walked two steps away on the Queen's side, so they wouldn't accidentally step on the back of her flowing dress. From the opposite side of the corridor, the Mother Queen caught sight of Dante. He walked up to her and kissed both sides of her cheeks.
"Good afternoon, grandmother," Dante greeted her.
"Where were you? I haven't seen you since last evening," the Mother Queen inquired with a smile Dante knew she often used when she had something to ask.
"I didn't know you were looking for me," Dante tilted his head in question.
"Not particularly, but there was something I wanted to speak to you about," she smiled and then said, "Word reached me that you went to attend the burial of the man who went against our rules… I don't think it is good for a prince to first kill a man and then give him a burial."
"Why?" Dante asked, his midnight black eyes looking hollower than usual before a faint smile appeared. "I killed the person and I disposed of him how I deemed fit."
The Mother Queen stared at him and said, "You could have had one of the executioners handle him."
"He was one of the men who worked under me, so it was only right that I rectified it," Dante answered her.
Death was hard to bear, and the Mother Queen knew how much it weighed on one's shoulders.
"I see," The Mother Queen hummed in thought. She then said, "Also, I wanted to mention that there will be many young princesses and women of high stature coming to attend the celebration at the end of this week. It wouldn't hurt to choose one of them as your bride."
"You don't have to worry about me, grandmother. I am not the one going to sit on the throne," Dante's response was quick.
"It's not about sitting on the throne but about having someone to balance you," she explained using both hands.
"I think I am plenty balanced. I would appreciate it if you don't shift or try to change anything, when we have facts in front of us."
"You call yourself balanced?" Dante's expression lightened on noticing his grandmother's bewildered expression. She complained, "All your interest lies in warfare. Three months ago, I sent four concubines to your room. They had really good hips and would bear children quickly. But what did you do? You chased them all away, and last month when I sent a courtesan to seduce you—"
"Nobody asked you to do that," Dante deadpanned, tired of listening, as the subject didn't interest him.
"—you scared her to death. Now no one is willing, scared for their lives after you pointed your sword at her throat!" The Mother Queen said in an exasperated tone. Even the experienced women who initially did agree, only entered the room just to stand like a statues without moving an inch.
Suddenly from the other end of the corridor, Prince Aiden appeared, fixing his errant hair that had turned into a mess by using the help of his fingers. When he noticed his grandmother and eldest brother standing in the middle of the corridor, he offered them a cheeky smile.
"Ho! I am so tired from all the training today," Aiden fanned his face with his hand.
The Mother Queen pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.
Dante's eyes met his brother's before he looked down at Aiden's shoes that were covered in dry mud and there was a patch on his neck, which he had failed to clean. The younger prince's eyes moved down. His eyes widened and he quickly tried to clean his shoes.
"You are lucky that I don't have my fan with me right now," The Mother Queen opened her eyes and glared at her young grandson. "When are you going to act like a successor to the throne?"
"But I don't want to be a king… I am happy with the way I am living," Aiden protested, and this time the Mother Queen didn't hold back herself in slapping his arm, which left a burn on the young prince's skin, "Ouch!"
"If I hear you say something like that, I will have you thrown into the river. You can then swim your way back to the palace," she threatened with narrowed eyes. Giving a long glare, she walked away from there with her two personal maids following her.
Back in the servants' quarters, Anastasia had only just returned with the others from the Bazaar. She came to her room to put her scarf back, when she noticed her mattress shifted a little out of place on the small wooden cot. Walking towards it, she picked up the mattress to push it back when her eyes fell on the emptiness beneath it.
Her eyes widened on noticing her sketches missing. Anastasia whispered,
"Where did they go…?!"
___________
GARDEN OF POISON
The one who stole(Chapter 12)
Anastasia removed her mattress completely, bringing it down on the floor, but there was no sign of the parchments she had sketched on. Dread was quick to slither into her mind. She turned anxious, wondering who had taken it.
Did someone take it to complain about what she was doing? But then, she wasn't causing trouble to anyone. Every time she had only used just one piece of charcoal and nothing more than that…
When Anastasia stepped out of the room, she caught sight of Theresa and Charlotte talking in the corridor. Theresa explained,
"There were these colourful pieces of glass fixed into this slender pot. If you place a candle inside it, different colours of light emit out of it."
Charlotte's mouth was parted as she listened. She said, "I wish I could visit too! But my time to go to the Bazaar will come too," she nodded.
Theresa remarked to this, "Everything happens for a reason. You didn't get to go to the Bazaar, but now you will work with the other maids in the inner heart of the palace."
Noticing Anastasia in the corridor, Theresa noticed the look of worry on the young woman's face and asked,
"Is everything alright, Anna?"
Anastasia had never told anyone about her drawings or had ever shown them. Not even her sister Marianne. Slightly breathless, she moved her hands in a hurry,
'I think someone came to my room today when I wasn't there.'
It was there until last night, and after she had left this morning to have breakfast, she didn't know if her sketches had disappeared then or if it was when she went to the Bazaar.
"Why? What happened?" Charlotte raised her eyebrows in question, "Anna?" She asked when Anastasia didn't respond.
Snapping from her thoughts, Anastasia realised Theresa and Charlotte were staring at her, waiting for her to answer. She asked them, her hands moving with speed as she tried to find answers,
'Do you know if someone entered the rooms of the maids in here?'
Theresa shook her head, "Not that I know of. I was at the Bazaar with you later, and every servant cleans their own room."
"I wish I was around here, but I was in the parlour room with Princess Niyasa," Charlotte replied, with her eyebrows furrowed. "Do you think someone lost something, which is why they came to search our rooms?"
'Something of mine is missing from my room… Excuse me," Anastasia said before dropping her hands and running past the two women.
"What is missing from her room?" Charlotte asked Theresa, turning to look at Anastasia, who disappeared behind the wall at the end of the corridor.
Anastasia went to the kitchen and looked at the stone stoves where the logs of wood burned. She suspected whoever stole the parchments must have torn and put them in here to burn. Was it Mr. Gilbert or a senior maid who had come to inspect the servant quarters and found her sketches? Finding no trace of them, she left the kitchen, and stepped out of the back door.
She made her way towards the stables, where some things were being burned in a furnace. She knew it because she could see the smoke through her room's window.
Holding the front of her dress, she made her way near the stables. But before she could enter the stable, she was stopped by the two guards, who demanded,
"What business does a low-level maid have here?"
Anastasia's eyes looked at the furnace that was at the far end, and she moved her hands to speak, 'I want to take a look at the furnace. I think something of mine might have been brought here by mistake. I need to look at it.' She pointed at her eyes and then at the furnace.
The guards looked at each other's faces, and one of them suddenly burst into laughter. He said, "Did you understand what she just said?"
The other guard ran his tongue on the back of his teeth and said, "I have no idea what she just said. What did you say there, woman? Use your mouth," he demanded.
Anastasia stared at the two guards, realising her words wouldn't reach these men.
When Anastasia had turned herself into a mute, not being able to use her voice, it was her sister Marianne who had taught her how to speak sign language. As courtesans were supposed to be well-versed in the variety of knowledge of the world, so that they could match the intellect of the royal court members, they were permitted to use the library of the royal palace.
Theresa had learned it along with Anastasia, while Charlotte, over time, had watched Anastasia talk to Theresa, which was how she knew. The other people in the palace didn't care to know or learn as they only cared about the maids following their orders without question.
"It looks like she cannot speak," the second guard said, adding, "How useless." He then said to Anastasia, "There's nothing here for you to look at. Go back and do your job unless you want to be reported to Mr. Gilbert." He waved his hand to shoo her away from there.
Anastasia took backward steps, feeling her heart grow heavy, and she turned sad with every growing minute. Her hands clenched. She realised that her attempt to retrieve the sketches of her hometown was futile, so she stopped looking for them.
When she got back inside the kitchen, the head cook scolded her,
"Where have you been, Anastasia? We have a lot of work to do here."
Anastasia quietly washed the vegetables and then began to peel them. Theresa, who was kneading the dough in the big and wide container, caught sight of the dejected look on her face.
Later, when Anastasia was on a break, standing in front of the small rectangular window, Theresa offered her a glass and whispered,
"This will refresh your mind. I added the used lemon and a little sugar after saying my head was spinning."
Anastasia's eyes widened. The sharbat drink wasn't for the servants and was reserved only for the royal family, even if Theresa had used the already used lemons. She whispered, "Are you not scared of getting caught?"
Theresa pursed her lips before nodding, "A little, but they don't know I made sharbat. Take it," she said, pushing the glass into the hand of the young woman. Noticing Anastasia take two sips and relishing the taste in her mouth, the elderly woman said, "Don't let yourself feel down, Anna. Some things take time and are out of our control. You will also be a personal maid for one of the princesses one day."
"What?" Anastasia asked, not able to follow what the elderly woman meant.
"You are sad because you weren't promoted from a lower maid to a maids-in-waiting of the princess, aren't you?"
"No, it was for something else," Anastasia replied, taking another sip from the glass before handing the glass back.
"Did you finish all of it?" Theresa asked her, and when she took the glass, she felt the weight and noticed there was still half of it left in there. "You didn't like it?"
"It is the tastiest drink, but you made it for me, and it would be rude to not share. I think you should have half of it," Anastasia replied with a smile before she urged the woman to drink it.
Theresa's heart warmed at Anastasia's words, and she gulped down the rest of the contents of the glass in seconds. She said, "Imagine if you put fresh and more drops of lemon into it and not the used ones. How wonderful it will taste?" Returning to what they were speaking about, she said, "I think I was mistaken earlier. That you were sad because Charlotte will be serving Princess Niyasa and you haven't been promoted."
Anastasia had been so busy looking for her sketches that she hadn't paid attention to the news. She said, "I am happy for her. She must be excited."
"She is. She is packing some of her belongings as she will be moving to the higher room," Theresa replied. As the servants moved up in levels, rooms were allotted to them accordingly, along with better clothes. The senior maids who delegated orders and managed them had control over some of the lower maids. "It seems that Princess Niyasa wanted a maid, as one of her maids in waiting fell sick."
"I should go and congratulate her," Anastasia said, as Charlotte was always there to cheer her up for as long as they had known each other.
Anastasia made her way to the servant quarters, and when she reached Charlotte's room, she noticed a small trunk on the floor, which contained Charlotte's clothes and belongings. The maid, on seeing her, offered her a bright smile. She said,
"It's good that you are here! I am so excited to work in the inner part of the palace!"
Anastasia smiled and replied, 'I am happy for you.'
"Thank you, Anna!" Charlotte's eyes were bright with excitement. She said, "The tailor just took my measurements for new clothes; how wonderful is that! I will make sure to spend time with you during the meals, though it would depend on when the princess will let us have our food, or have us eat with her if she wants me to join her." Then, as if remembering something, she said, "I wanted to give you this," she turned to her bed and picked up her old dress.
Anastasia moved her hands, 'You don't have to do that. I have enough with me.'
"As I have no use for this now, I thought you could use this," as Charlotte pushed her old dress into Anastasia's arms. Anastasia's eyes fell on the young woman's hands, which had traces of black powder on them.
On noticing Anastasia stare at her hands, Charlotte dusted her hands against the side of her dress and laughed, "I forgot to clean my hands after cleaning the fireplace. I should probably do it before the princess notices it. I will see you later," she smiled.
Anastasia wondered if she was overthinking, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that Charlotte had something to do with her missing sketches. There were many maids with hands covered in dirt but not charcoal powder. The thought gnawed at the back of her mind now.
Wanting to ask, she raised her hands and asked, 'Did you see my sketches, Charlotte?'
Charlotte looked confused and asked, "What sketches?"
'The ones I drew...'
"I am sorry, Anna, but I don't understand what you are saying. You drew?" Charlotte asked with a frown. "You want me to see your drawings?"
When Charlotte's words turned careful at the end, with seriousness filling her eyes, Anastasia knew. A look of disappointment filled her eyes, and she said,
'I hope your hard work is worth it. Your new room, clothes, and time in the inner palace,' with that, Anastasia turned around and left the room.
_________
GARDEN OF POISON
From pan to Fire 🔥(Chapter 13)
An hour later, Anastasia was mopping the floor along with Theresa.
The excitement for Charlotte had disappeared from her eyes and was replaced by disappointment. In some corner of her heart, she wanted to give Charlotte the benefit of doubt, but the sight of charcoal powder on Charlotte's hands didn't hide the betrayal that had happened.
To go so far as to steal… Anastasia could only guess that Charlotte had used her sketches to get a close enough position to work under Princess Niyasa. She noticed Charlotte walking from one end of the corridor to where she and Theresa were working.
"Are you going to visit Princess Niyasa, Charlotte?" Theresa asked, not knowing what Charlotte had done.
Charlotte smiled, and replied, "I am. I am in a hurry now as Princess Niyasa doesn't like to be kept waiting." She turned to look at Anastasia, who made no attempt to speak to her. She pursed her lips and said, "Take care of yourself, Anna. If there's something to clean in the princess's room, I will be sure to ask for you." Saying those words, she left the corridor.
On noticing Anastasia's unfriendly behaviour towards Charlotte, Theresa said, "I thought you weren't upset with Charlotte's promotion..."
Anastasia replied, "It isn't her promotion that upsets me. It is the means by which she promoted herself."
Theresa frowned and asked, "What do you mean?"
"She stole something that was mine. Truthfully, it isn't that she used it as an opportunity that makes me sad, but that she broke my trust," Anastasia stopped mopping the floor, clutching the wooden stick with her hands. She said, "What she took… they were all very dear to me. But had she asked, I would have happily given them to her."
Theresa's eyebrows furrowed, and she asked, "What did she steal, Anna?"
Anastasia shook her head, "It doesn't matter," she said before continuing to mop the floor. "After a few days, it won't matter anymore." Because she was sure she would escape this place where people attempted to move up ranks by trampling on others. Once she and her sister left this place, all these things would be just a memory.
Away from where lowly maids like Anastasia or Theresa weren't allowed to enter, in the heart of the royal palace, Charlotte made her way to the inner garden, where Princess Niyasa was.
Princess Niyasa was the second daughter of King William Blackthorn, whose mother was the King's first concubine, Lady Maya, and the sister of Prince Maxwell. The princess had let down her brown hair, and had a jewelled pin fixed on the left side of her head. Though she was only nineteen years of age, her arrogance was as if she had collected it for far too long.
"The talented maid is here," Princess Niyasa remarked on seeing Charlotte enter the garden. She then said, "What are you doing standing that far away? Come closer."
Princess Niyasa remarked, "Your sketches are unlike anything I have seen. I had them placed in the parlour so that everyone can enjoy the sight of them." To the princess, having talented maids was nothing less than her owning beautiful jewels or dresses. They were an accessory to show off to others. Her blue eyes stared at the plain maid, and asked, "How did you draw them again?"
Charlotte bowed deeply and replied, "I draw them as they come in my dreams, Princess."
"So gifted. I hear that you haven't dreamed of anything lately, which is why you haven't been able to draw new ones?" The princess questioned, while crossing her legs on the chair she sat upon in the garden.
"That is right, Princess. Once I have had a good dream, I would be happy to show it to you. I am delighted to hear that the princess is pleased with my drawings," Charlotte continued to bow, while hoping she would be able to sketch like Anastasia.
"Which is why from now on, you will be my maid," Princess Niyasa smiled with the corner of her lips pulling up.
And while Charlotte reaped the temporary benefits and praises from the princess, on the other side of the palace on one of the above floors, Anastasia walked with one hand carrying a bucket of water, and the other carrying a mop. She walked in the corridor where the wind blew, as there were no walls or windows, but only pillars after a length of railing.
Anastasia had come here to clear her head. Even though she told herself it didn't matter, she was still sad about what Charlotte had done.
She placed the bucket on the ground and leaned against the railing, watching the vast kingdom that went beyond the high walls and the desert. A minute later, she heard a metal clatter. Her eyebrows furrowed, wondering what it was. She slowly walked near the end of the wall, when her eyes widened at the sight of a thief!
The thief seemed to have just climbed over the wall, and was now pulling up the rope with which he had climbed. The person wore a black cloak and a hood that covered his head.
"Oof!" The thief wheezed and placed his hand on his back to stretch it. "Why are there so many guards?"
Anastasia parted her lips, ready to shout for the guards, but at the same time the thief turned and she caught sight of his face.
'W—was that Juan?!' Anastasia's mouth fell open. Was he here to steal?
But she didn't get enough time to think, for when Juan ran his hand through his hair, his appearance began to change. Her mouth went dry when she saw Juan take his original form, and that was of Prince Aiden.
Anastasia quickly hid further behind the wall, while she felt her heart beating loudly in her ears. The young man she had met twice in the Bazaar was the prince! For a brief moment, she was glad that she didn't pick up the nearest available object to hit his head with as she had done to the drunk man at the Bazaar.
She peeked from behind the wall, watching Prince Aiden discard his black cloak and fix his clothes. As he rolled the rope and anchor, she heard him whistle,
"Today was a good day. To leave the palace twice."
Anastasia had heard about the Blackthorn family members holding different abilities, but no one knew what abilities each of them held. But King William's powers were no secret to anyone in or outside the palace. It was said that he could read one's mind, making a person vulnerable in his presence.
Did she just agree to meet the prince and have him get her a camel? Anastasia felt her head ache.
Previously, the person she was going to deal with was a simple townsman and she believed her plan would be risk-free. But now… this was trouble knocking on her door. And the most important thing was, did he know she was a servant of this palace? She would only know when they next met, she thought in her mind.
She prayed they wouldn't meet!
Upon hearing Prince Aiden start to make his way toward where she was, Anastasia looked back and forth before she ran as fast as she could, so that he wouldn't see her. She felt as if she was being followed, considering how she couldn't get rid of the footsteps that weren't too far behind her.
When Anastasia entered the floor below, she failed to realise that she had picked a corridor which led her to the heart of the inner palace. With Prince Aiden's footsteps following hers, she turned the knob of the door next to her and entered the room.
Anastasia closed the door, her heart beating loudly, and waited for a minute. Feeling it was alright to step out again, she opened the door for the light to spill, but it was for the briefest moment.
Because the moment she opened the door, at the same time a hand appeared from behind, forcing the door closed. She heard a husky male voice speak right behind her,
"You have some nerve to enter the room without permission and think you can leave as you please."
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GARDEN OF POISON
Force of gloved hands (Chapter 14)
Even though the room was slightly dark, as not all the curtains had been pulled away from the window, the room felt hot to Anastasia. The gloved hand on the surface of the door didn't pull away until she let go of the doorknob.
Anastasia turned from where she stood while making sure she didn't touch the person who stood too close to her, towering over her.
When her eyes met Dante's midnight eyes that held a hint of glare and curiosity in them, she heard him question her,
"This is the second time that you have followed me in less than twenty-four hours. Who put you up to it?"
What? Anastasia quickly shook her head.
Her eyes fell on him, seeing that his hair was ruffled, he was in loose trousers, with a plain white shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbow, and the top three buttons were left unbuttoned.
Dante didn't take it too kindly when women were sent to seduce or follow him to know what he was up to, and it had happened more than four times in the past. His gloved hand shot to the maid's neck, his fingers curling around it and his thumb pressing on the space between her collarbones.
Anastasia froze, feeling the grip of his hand, not expecting things to escalate at such a speed that her life was left dangling by a frail thread.
He's going to kill me! Anastasia screamed in her mind in alarm.
"What are you doing here? Are you going to answer?" Dante's glare turned more evident.
Anastasia, who couldn't speak, raised her hands, ready to use signs to explain to him. But the moment she brought her hand forward, Dante's other hand caught hold of her wrist and pressed it against the wooden surface of the door.
Her heart skipped a beat at the forcefulness of his hands, and her body shivered. A drop of sweat trickled down the nape of her neck and slipped down her spine before being absorbed by the back of her dress.
Dante wondered if his father or grandmother had sent this woman. Was she even a maid? Or was she another concubine or courtesan disguised as a maid to catch him off guard? Young women who were sent to him were always eager to gain his good side, as he was a prince, ready to strip for him and please him.
Before Anastasia could use her other free hand to convey her words, Dante leaned forward and brought his lips next to her ear.
"As you seemed too eager to enter my room without my permission, I should perhaps take the matter into my hands… and punish you," Dante's breath brushed against her ear, which left her heart stuttering. "Make sure it is hard for you to show up in front of me ever again," his words held an underlying threat in them.
Anastasia knew she should be scared of him right now, but why was she feeling light-headed and it wasn't because of his hand around her neck. He was handsome, but that didn't mean her mind could give him a pass for the way he threatened her.
Dante pulled away and remarked, "What a compliant woman."
As the hand that held her wrist was about to slide lower as he leaned forward, Anastasia quickly placed her hand on his chest. Thankfully, her fingers didn't touch his bare, taut chest. But as fast as her hand stopped him, she also quickly pulled her hand away from touching and stopping him.
Anastasia didn't look at Dante. Her eyes were lowered, while blood rushed up her neck, with her hand hanging midair. She brought her hand to her lips, and this only caused the prince to narrow his eyes at her. She shook her head.
Dante stared at Anastasia for a second before he realised, "You cannot speak…?" She nodded, her heart thudding in her chest.
Anastasia felt the snake-like fingers that had earlier slithered around her neck release, along with his grip on her hand. She brought her hand in front of her, feeling the skin of her wrist as if the prince's hold had burnt her skin.
Dante's head tilted to the side as he examined her, and it turned Anastasia nervous. Did he doubt that she could speak? Did he know? No, there was no way for anyone to know, she thought.
He stared at her, because he hadn't heard of the head in charge of the servants taking in deaf or mute servants to work in the palace. He asked her,
"Have you always been unable to speak?"
Anastasia had hoped this question would never be asked, so she could avoid lying as much as possible, but she felt stuck between the rock and the wall. She moved her hands,
'Since I came here—'
"Forget it," Dante cut her actions off, as he was quick to lose interest, and his eyes narrowed. He took a step towards her, and Anastasia wondered if her lie had been caught. He leaned forward and said, "Consider this to be your first and last warning, if you enter the room without permission."
Anastasia heard the doorknob click as Dante unlocked the door, and a little light spilt in from outside, and some of it fell on him. The glare in his eyes had not left. She quickly offered a deep bow, and taking the opportunity, opened the door wide and bolted away from there.
Never had she shared such close space with any man before, and especially not a prince, Anastasia thought to herself as her feet quickly moved on the floor. She turned back, making sure she was all alone, but when she was about to turn at the end of the corridor, she crashed into someone.
"Ah…!" Princess Niyasa gritted her teeth, feeling the impact from how the lowly maid had crashed into her.
Anastasia quickly bowed to offer her apologies. It seemed like she was having the worst luck today.
Behind the glaring princess stood Charlotte, whose happy smile slipped and turned into worry. These corridors were for the royal family, and other influential members, and only chosen servants and maids had access to them. Noticing Anastasia here, she believed the person had come to tattle-tale the truth about the sketches.
Princess Niyasa demanded, "Don't you have eyes to see where you are walking?! Or is your mind in your feet?"
"It appears that she's a lower maid. A high princess like yourself shouldn't bother with her, Princess…" Charlotte spoke, hoping they could leave Anastasia behind and her lie wouldn't come out.
Princess Niyasa turned to the side where Charlotte stood and said in a foul mood, "I didn't ask for your opinion. Don't speak out of turn unless spoken to." This had Charlotte close her mouth immediately while bowing her head as to not irk the princess, who seemed to have little patience. "How rude… it looks like the lower maids truly lack manners. To stand rather than kneel to ask for forgiveness," she taunted.
Anastasia could hear the arrogance and pride from the tone of the princess's voice. She didn't want to cause any trouble, and ever since she began to live here, she had realised it was better to obey than go against the people who were higher in position compared to her.
She did what the princess wanted by kneeling on the floor and bowing her head.
Princess Niyasa's lips twisted and she murmured, "What is a lowly maid doing in these parts of the palace?" Looking down at the lowly maid, she took a step forward before stamping on the woman's fingers that were pressed on the floor. "I will be sure to question Norrix on what a lowly maid is doing here."
Anastasia felt the pain shoot up her fingers. She clenched her jaws and closed her eyes to stop herself from screaming in pain.
Princess Niyasa stepped away from Anastasia and said, "Remember to use your eyes and ears next time," before walking away with her two maids following her.
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GARDEN OF POISON
Thorns around the rose (chapter 15)
At night, the temperature had dropped around the Kingdom of Versailles, and everyone stayed inside their rooms and their beds. The people with high status covered their bodies with thick quilt-like blankets, while the ones of the lower class, like the servants, used the thin bedsheets around their bodies, but that wasn't enough for them to sleep comfortably.
In the servants' quarters, Anastasia had fallen asleep sooner than the other days, as tonight she didn't want to touch the charcoal piece to sketch and was tired.
Deep in sleep, with the silence surrounding the servants' quarters, Anastasia dreamt of what her heart longed for.
'Anna?' Her father's voice echoed. 'Anna?'
'I am in the backyard, papa!' Anastasia replied, who was hanging the clothes on the rope, which she had washed at the riverside.
Anastasia wrung out the dress and hung it on the rope, while her father stepped out of the house through the back door. He said, 'There you are! I have brought the plums that you like. The small purple ones.' They looked the same as when she and her sister were little girls.
Her mother, who followed her father, said, 'Anna, it is time to come in. Mary said she wants your help. We cannot be late for the celebration.'
'Of course, mama,' Anastasia said, pouring the water from the bucket on the ground before entering their lovely and warm house. Wiping her hands, she went to her sister's room and knocked on the door. When she turned the knob, her eyes fell on her sister, who wore a simple white gown. 'You look beautiful, Mary! I am so happy for you to be marrying the man you love,' she said, hugging her sister.
Marianne's eyes were moist, and she smiled, 'I am happy too, Anna. I cannot believe the day has finally come.' She pulled Anastasia in front of the long mirror and remarked, 'But it is time for you too. Look,' her sister urged her, turning to look at the mirror.
When Anastasia turned and looked at the mirror, she noticed Marianne missing from the reflection of the mirror, as well as missing next to her, leaving her alone in the room that had turned dark. The mirror suddenly broke into many pieces, and she raised her hand to shield her face.
'Anastasia.'
She heard someone whisper her name from a distance, which had an echo to it.
'It is time for you to come home,' said the voice to her.
'Papa?' Anastasia called her father, but received no response. The darkness that was clouding her eyes started to clear, and she now stood in a long, lonely corridor. Her lips moved again, "Papa?"
Anastasia walked on the cold marble floor with her bare feet. Her eyes fell on the closest fire torch fixed on the wall, and it appeared dusty and cold, as if it had been years since it had been last lit. From the look of her surroundings, it didn't take her long to realise that this place resembled the Blackthorn Palace.
When the back of her hand grazed the surface of the wall, she winced in pain, and the pain felt real. It couldn't be… Was she not dreaming anymore?
"No, it can't be real," Anastasia murmured. But then she remembered something that Marianne had told her.
'There's no one here. You can sing when we are alone and when no one is around. I heard the west side of the palace has been unused and left untouched for years.'
The west side of the palace was part of the inner heart of the palace, which was why she had heard nothing about it.
"I must get back to my room before I get into any more trouble," Anastasia said to herself, as she was no longer dreaming. She couldn't believe that she had sleepwalked into this place.
Making sure the view ahead was clear, Anastasia was quick on her feet. But before she could leave, her eyes fell on the centre of the four corridors, where there was a dried garden, and at the centre was a single dried rose that was surrounded by black thorns.
Having never heard of, or seen something like this, Anastasia was drawn towards it. She moved closer, staring at the thorns that protected the dried rose in a circle without touching it.
"Such a strange thing," Anastasia murmured, and she went to touch it.
But at the same time, she heard voices, and when she turned in that direction, one of her fingers grazed a thorn, which drew blood from it. The red drop fell on the ground below the thorns. She heard a woman's voice,
"I don't need this place to be cleaned all the time, Aziel."
Anastasia then heard a man's voice, "Forgive me, Your Highness. I thought it would be better to have the floor cleaned, if you were to drop by here for a visit."
"It's not a place people have tea at. The last thing I need is someone entering and disrupting what shouldn't be touched."
Anastasia quickly held the front of her night dress and climbed onto the platform of the corridor. Not knowing where else to hide, she quickly found the nearest pillar and stood behind it.
The footsteps got louder as two people entered the place, walking along the corridor opposite to where Anastasia was hiding. It was none other than the Mother Queen and her trusted minister, who followed two steps behind her.
The minister named Aziel informed, "There are only three servants who come in here, Milady."
The Mother Queen's eyes fell on the dried rose bush, which was in the same condition since she had last seen it. She said, "I suppose it shouldn't be bad if it is just three servants entering here."
"I have given the servants strict instructions. To not go near any of the plants or touch anything apart from the floors," Aziel assured the Mother Queen, noticing her grim look. "The Blackthorn rose is safe, my Queen."
"For now… before it finally withers," the Mother Queen remarked, her lips set into a thin line, while a frown came to settle on her wrinkled forehead. "It has been one hundred and eighty-seven years since the curse fell upon Versailles, turning this place into a desert. Did you know that the Blackthorn family name is originally derived from that plant which once used to be abundant around the kingdom?"
"So you have told me, Milady," the minister answered the Mother Queen.
"The Blackthorn roses were once used as an elixir in minute quantities. Only a few members of the royal family knew the precise amount to be consumed. For when more than the required amount was taken, it would turn into poison, and that information wasn't shared with others. Many ambitious men and women wanted to live longer, and they gulped it down," the Mother Queen softly harrumphed at the greed of the people as she stared at the thorns from afar. She then continued, "This is the last one, and though it is dead, the family has preserved it for years as a treasure. Which is why I don't want anyone trying to come near it."
The minister quietly bowed to comply with the Mother Queen's order.
Anastasia, who was hiding behind the pillar, quietly listened to their conversation. She carefully peeked to look at the wilted black rose. She had never heard this story before. To think the kingdom was cursed—she wondered what had happened in the past, for such a thing to happen.
While the Mother Queen and the minister continued to talk about something related to the court, Anastasia, who was waiting to return to her room, felt her nostrils tickling. She quickly rubbed her nose to avoid being caught, and scrunched her nose many times, while praying to God to spare her from any more trouble today!
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