When the Soul Becomes Silk

Melina woke late the following morning.  She had been lulled to sleep by the sounds of the storm and the stroking of her Lady’s deft hands.  Sunlight glinted through the occasional break in clouds that were still heavy and grey, the rays of light finding their way through the tiny window and onto the pallet that served as Melina’s bed in the small room off Lady d’Argent’s own sleeping chamber.

As she rolled over and ran her fingers over the dancing sparkles on the cloth beside her, Melina was shocked as cold water poured over her.  She turned quickly to face the entrance to her room.  The Lady d’Argent stood beside her pallet, an empty bucket overturned in her hands.

“You will clean this up before serving my breakfast.”  d’Argent swept out of the small enclosure without a backward glance, her auburn hair and pale blue robe trailing behind her, taking away all traces of the sun.

Heartless and cruel,
this offer of jewels;
is this an act or the truth?

After Melina had quickly mopped up her own belongings, changed her dress, and served Lady d’Argent’s breakfast, Cecily beckoned the girl to come closer again.  “I’ll wear my silks today,” the Lady cooed, so softly that Melina had to bend her ear right next to d’Argent’s lips.  Melina flushed slightly at the intimacy implied by this communication, and hurried to clear the table and open the wardrobe.

Cecily regarded her maid through narrowed eyes as the girl rushed about her rooms in a flurry of activity.  Had she made a mistake?  Was the girl not prepared?  Emotional dispassion was as much a lesson as any she had to teach.

Melina stood in front of the open wardrobe, examining the selection of silk dresses and scarves within.  Green would suit her Lady today, as well as heralding the new season.  She jumped slightly as Lady d’Argent came to stand behind her, placing cool hands on her shoulders.

“Would you like to try one of these on today, Melina?”

The End

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