Dutchess of the End

The meal had indeed been quick. I arrived at the Dining Hall well before the King’s scheduled dinner time, which left it mostly empty save for a few kitchen couriers preparing the table for the upcoming meal. I flagged one of them down and commanded her to fetch me a serving of whatever would be presented tonight. Not caring for the attention to cleanliness that the girls had been giving to the table, I ate quickly, barely noticing what I was shoving in my mouth before returning to my quarters.

The walk had been long- the Castle Telbud was the largest in the land- indeed, our nation had been named after this very building some century and a half after its construction had been completed. Allomen, it had been called in those days, it had been a thousand years since then, since the war with Estermul had concluded. Estermul was no more, having been folded into the eastern provinces of Allomen. Now, those lands served as Telbud’s most fertile farmland, feeding over half our population with grains, fruits, and meats.

I arrived in my quarters after the trek through centuries old stone, passing common servant girls, elderly viziers, and a few of the Queen’s stablegirls. It was as lavish as I could convince the King to give me according to me new position, though the walk to and from it was a good five minutes both ways, I found it worth it. A bed with tall posts on the corners was hidden by a blue veil- only allowed because of Princess Stephanie’s occasional visits- with a mountain of plush pillows and soft blankets to quickly lull me to sleep at night. The floor here was wooden, polished and waxed to feel as soft as possible, smooth enough to walk on my bare feet and need not worry for splinters. A small desk stood opposite the bed, my wardrobe off against the far wall, and a door that led into a lavatory to my right. It was grand indeed, more than worthy of royalty.

“Soon enough.” I muttered to myself, pulling up the red and gold garb my rank allowed me to wear. While blue was the color of royalty, gold was allowed for those of noble blood whether or not they’d been disowned as I had.

I was foolish to go along with it. I was eight, and a little bookworm. Telbud law commands any nobility who wishes to study the arts renounce their claim to whatever inheritance she’d get. At the time, I wanted more knowledge. I was greedy, hungry for it. I flourished here, though perhaps in spite of my former title rather than because of it.

My undergarments consisted of a plain white shirt that protected my bare skin from the sometimes abrasive fabric of the King’s cabinet, as well as a thin white pair of pants that did the same. Those robes only looked and felt comfortable for the first few hours, then began to feel heavy and rough. I started wearing the undershirt after only a day.

The undergarments could stay on for now. This was comfortable, and I needed to prepare for tonight as easily as possible. Stephanie was sure to drain as much of my energy as she could, and I’d be awake for the next two days at the bare minimum. Sixty hours, counting the twelve it had been since I woke up this morning…

A long time, but not anything I hadn’t done before. First things first, I needed to address letters to a few individuals.

Dearest King Mona,

My expedition team will be returning from the Hinterwastes tonight carrying artifacts never before seen or known of in Telbian history. It comes with no small amount of regret that I must postpone my daily lessons with the Princess Stephanie until my initial examination of them is complete. These findings could revolutionize what is known about ancient Telbud, and until I have translated the contents of these writings, much of what I am to be teaching your daughter in the coming weeks and months could very well prove to be incorrect. I sincerely apologize for this inconvenience, and will make arrangements for an independent study regime following the days until I am able to return to my usual duties.

Much regards,

Carla Clarke of Southern Wicsey

“There. Easy.” I muttered. My Birth Hand- the right one- held the quill with practiced precision as I penned the letter to the King. She would grumble about it for a little bit, but my justifications for leaves of absence such as this always proved sufficient for her. 

Next, there was the matter of Stephanie’s independent lessons. I couldn’t very well promise the King to do something and then not do it with what little time I have left. Making a lesson plan for Stephanie was probably a fool’s errand, as she’d likely be sent to her bedchambers to complete my assignments, only to sneak out to go chasing skirts in the castle or in town. Soall knows how many times I’ve had to track her down at the start of lesson time to find her oil-handed, head dove in between some servant girl’s legs.

A week. I could make it for a week. Seven days of lessons should be more than sufficient. Dipping the quill back into my inkpot, I began writing on a separate sheet of parchment, giving instructions to a future Stephanie on the off-chance she’d actually listen. Essays about the War of Estermul, reading assignments from textbooks I’d written and co-written, a research project about the war that could take upwards of a month of tracking down reference books in the Royal Library- I expressly forbid her from using information found only in the Archive, as I know she’d use it as an excuse to see me, and seduce me, if she could.

The Royal Library differed from the Archive in one key feature- age. Anything above five hundred years old was sent from the Royal Library on the second and third floors of Castle Telbud down into the dungeons of the Royal Archive. Down there, things were preserved using conditions such as storage density and water attraction theory, it was the height of technology.

With Stephanie’s lessons planned out for most likely far longer than I needed them to be, I stood up from my desk, and turned towards the door to the lavatory. Stepping inside, I saw a simple tin basin for washing- big enough for two full grown women to sit in side by side- and a small but shining clean chamber pot. A bell on the wall was attached to a string, next to a metal pipe fixated on the stone siding that led up into the ceiling, trailing down into the tub.

It was simple, really. All I needed to do was ring the bell, and servants at the topmost floor of the castle would pour boiling water down the pipe. Once it cooled off enough for my liking, I could bathe.

The bell was rung, and in preparation, removed what remained of my outfit, tossing it on the ground before I turned to look in the mirror. There, I saw a woman with a stern face, dull brown eyes and matching hair that went straight down her back. My chin jutted out ever so slightly, and my cheekbones were well-defined. My chest was a tad larger than I would have cared for, the spring they forced into every step was tiresome towards the end of long days. My skin was clear save for a few freckles dotting the bridge of my nose and just under my eyes- the mark of nobility, my mother had always told me as a girl, now the mark of disgrace.

Within moments, steaming hot water came pouring out from the pipe, landing with a small splash as the basin began to fill. A good deal came of it before stopping, though more would be added in just a moment. Another wave sloshed into the tub, each round elevated the water level by a bit. All I had to do was ring the bell again, and the water would stop flowing. I let it go until the tub was mostly full before ringing it, settling in to feel the piping hot water around me.

Instantly, as I lowered myself into the tub, I felt my muscles relax, my eyes close, my throat give out a low moan that could have lit up my Birth Hand. The water was hot around me, the steam rising in blissful pillories. All but trapped in the near-scalding water, I let myself relax- truly relax- for the first time since yesterday evening.