Whispers Unsaid

The next morning, I awoke with the sun. It was frigidly cold in the chambers, so I gathered a quilt around my shoulders as I readied myself for the day. Many of the other female servants - including the woman I had spoken with last night - were rising as well, and they too were preparing for the day of work that surely lay ahead. I used my fingers to gently pry apart the knots my hair had gathered from sleep and quickly stripped down to my peticoat before I realized that I had nothing else to wear. The room filled with snickers and my cheeks caught flame.

I felt a nudge on my shoulder and turned to see a small blonde girl standing behind me. She could not have been older than thirteen or fourteen. In her outstretched hand she held a pile of brown rags, which she pressed into my arms. "You'll want to put these on," she instructed. I continued to stare at her, speechless, and she rolled her blue eyes before adding, "Your uniform. King Zachary says that all servant-girls must dress plainly so as not to encourage lust in the hearts of the men."

It was a bit strange to hear such a young girl speak about intercourse so bluntly, but I decided this was not my concern. I took the rags from her hands and dressed myself. The outfit was plan, as the girl had said, but not unflattering. The skirt fell just below my knees and the sleeves were long, but that was fine with me, considering the frigid cold.

I looked around the small room and saw that besides myself, there was only one other girl in the room. She was the small girl who had given me my uniform, the one who looked far too young to be in a place such as this. "Excuse me," I said softly. She turned around. "What do I do now?"

"That depends," she answered. "I am young, only fourteen, so I mostly clean. How old are you?"

"Nineteen," I responded. "My birthday was only a fortnight ago."

The young girl nodded. "Then if I were you, I would go upstairs to the kitchen. There you will find a nice red-headed woman named Olivia. She will tell you what to do."

"Thank you," I told her, smiling. I moved to leave, but the young girl called me back. "Yes?"

"Make sure that you go only to the kitchen," she instructed quietly. "You may be new here, but know that King Zachary will not show leniency if he catches you wandering around the castle."

"Th-Thank you," I sputtered. The girl seemed not to notice my stuttering; she simply nodded and walked away, a cleaning rag clasped in her small hands. Now that I knew my duties, I left the frigid sleeping chambers and made my way upstairs to the kitchen. It was only slightly warmer here than in the sleeping chambers and I made sure to start a fire in the large fireplace before seeking out the woman named Olivia. I found her in the pantry located adjacent to the kitchen; there she was preparing some sort of meat. I cleared my throat and she turned around. "Excuse me? My name...My name is Trinity, and I was told to find you."

"Are you the new servant?" she asked. Not knowing what else to do, I nodded. The woman nodded as well, turning back to the food she was preparing. "I require no additional help in the kitchen," she explained, her voice void of emotion. I could feel myself go white. So I would not be working in the kitchen? Surely they had not captured me and brought me here to do nothing. "But Queen Stefani is heavily pregnant, and will soon require assistance, so--"

"She was with her midwife yesterday when I arrived," I explained, interrupting Olivia. "I would not surprised if the babe rested in her arms now."

"Then she will most definitely need help," the woman continued. She seemed not to mind my interruption. "Queen Stefani will need a governess for the child."

"She will not care for the baby herself?" I asked, confused. Back in my village, it was uncommon for women to have someone else care for their children. Most either couldn't afford the meager wage the women required or preferred to care for their own children. But of course, this woman, this Queen Stefani, was a far cry from the village women I had grown up with.

"Queen Stefani is unable to care for her son," Olivia stated. So a prince had been born. She turned her head and met my gaze. "So you will serve as her governess. Now to get to the Queen's chambers, you will need to follow the winding staircase at the far end of the castle all the way to the top. The door will most likely be closed, and if it is, you will need to knock three times in quick succession. This way the queen and her attendants will know that you are a servant and not a visitor."

"What if King Zachary is there?" I asked.

Olivia smiled; it almost appeared to be a sneer. "King Zachary will not be there," she said. "He is a very busy man and he has many important things to do. Now go. Queen Stefani will be needing you."

Forcing a frown away, I spun around and rushed out of the kitchen. King Zachary had more important things to do than see his newborn son? Sometimes I wondered if people of royalty were actually people at all; they hardly seemed to have emotions. And this woman Olivia seemed a tad pretentious; I could hear it in the way she spoke to me, as if I were a child who had gotten under her feet. I suddenly felt a pang of sadness for my home and my family. I wanted the comfort that my home and the monotony of my routine could bring me. But that was no more.

Before I knew it, I stood in front of the heavy mahogany door of the King and Queen's chambers. Inside I could hear muffled voices and the cry of an infant. It was a cry I knew well: the baby was hungry, and with no milk from his mother, he would be needing me. I gave three quick knocks as Olivia had instructed, and all sounds inside the room, save the cry of the baby, fell silent. There was the sound of footsteps, and the door swung open, revealing a short, squat woman with wild brown hair and a tired expression on her face.

This must be the midwife, I thought.

"Hello, I-I'm here to see the Queen?" I hadn't meant for it to come out as a question, but my nervousness twisted my words around and they came sputtering out before I could stop them.

"The Queen is not accepting visitors at the moment--" the midwife began.

"I was sent to care for the babe," I spit out. The midwife ushered me inside and quickly closed the door. My eyes immediately went to the woman lying on the bed. Even fraught with exhaustion, she was stunning. It was easy to see why King Zachary had taken her as his Queen. Her hair was so blonde it was nearly white, and strands of it fell from a braid, framing her heart-shaped face, illuminating her brilliant blue eyes. I noticed that there hardly seemed to be a single bead of sweat anywhere on her body. Surely childbirth was a taxing activity? Cursing myself, I performed a quick curtsy. "Your Highness."

"This is the girl who will be caring for the next king?" Queen Stefani scoffed. Her gaze settled on me, and I could feel her studying me, critiquing me. "She's hardly more than a babe herself!"

"I am nineteen, your Highness," I informed her. "I was birthed in the year 1567."

The Queen shot me another disdainful look before turning back to her midwife. "Give her the babe," she ordered sharply. "I have just given birth and I need rest. I cannot listen to that squalling all day."

The squat woman gave a quick nod and hurried over to the end of the Queen's bed. A small chest was pushed against the end board, and on the the chest sat a basket. From the basket, the midwife produced a small bundle, one which still whined with hunger. She handed the babe to me and I looked down at the face of the child who would be the next ruler of this kingdom. He hardly looked like one now; he was small and pink and entirely vulnerable. "What is the prince's name?" I asked the midwife.

"Nicolas," she answered. Her hands went to my shoulders, giving me a gentle shove in the direction of the door. "Go on now, to the room across the hall. That will be your quarters while you are nursing the babe."

"Prince Nicolas," I whispered to myself as I carried the young infant away from his mother. In the hall, his shrill cries echoed, filling the castle with the sound of new life. "I like it."

Notes