Midnight's Song (7 page)

Read Midnight's Song Online

Authors: Keely Victoria

Tags: #romance, #coming of age, #adventure, #fantasy, #paranormal, #dystopia, #epic, #fantasy romance, #strong female character, #sci fantasy

We pulled to a towering gate. The gate
was only the beginning of a fence that seemed to span for at least
a mile and house a spanning forest within its bounds. Vines lined
the sides of the gate and crept up its swirly iron bars and a sea
of brilliant, shining paper lanterns lined all of the trees in the
garden directly behind it. Everything was so lush, so green! Where
were they getting the water to create such a lush inhabitance in a
world that claimed to have little to none?

Archie leaned over and glided his
finger over a red button beside the gate. It was apparent that he
was speaking into some sort of intercom, but I couldn’t hear a word
of it. A light suddenly switched on at the entrance and the gates
swung open. The world was dark now, but our cobblestone path was
lit with dozens of flickering lights that went all of the way to
the entrance.

The carriage came to a
stop in front of colossal door. The door itself was huge – but it
was connected to an even mightier mansion. We parked between a
spluttering fountain and a uniform line of servants and family
members who had come to greet us. Jackoby came down from his hiding
place on the top of the cart and unlatched the carriage door. He
took my hand – now trembling – and gently helped me down onto the
ground.

My anxieties were at their highest
now, and as if that wasn’t enough I soon found myself being nearly
crushed in an unexpected embrace. Less than a second after I
emerged from the cabin, a gracefully moving young woman approached
me. It was Wren. With a multitude of servants watching, I’d
expected her to be formal in her greeting. I was wrong on all
accounts. As soon as she saw me, Wren pulled me in for an awkward,
emotional hug.

“Welcome to the Devereaux
Estate.”

8 | Prim
and Proper

I woke up the next morning to find
myself bombarded with sunlight. The moment that I opened my eyes, I
panicked. The sight of these foreign walls and lavish windows were
enough to send me spiraling into culture shock. Last night the room
had been too dim for me to see much. Now, I could see that it was
lusher than I could have ever anticipated.

The first thing I
noticed was the walls. They were plastered with a coral, swirling
wallpaper that spanned to the top of a ceiling that was at
least
10 feet taller
than I was. Decorated gas lanterns were mounded on each wall,
enclosed by mazes of white molding. At the very end of the maze was
a pair of glass doors that led out to my own private
balcony.
This is for me?
I fathomed, choking on my tears. This was too
much for anyone to take in, much less someone like
me.

I turned my head to
see a tray of uneaten fruit and barely nibbled breads sitting on
the table next to my bed. After arriving last night Wren insisted
on taking me on a grand tour of the Estate. We didn’t venture far,
but I did get a chance to see the kitchen and become acquainted
with the head chef. She was a cheeky 7
th
caste woman known as Haley
King.

I’d only seen Grandmamma briefly last
night. I was far too tiresome to dress up and present myself to the
rest of my relatives, so I played sick and retired to my room early
in the evening as an excuse to avoid the prodding. Despite my
refusals, the head chef had been kind enough to send up a tray of
food for me anyway. It was a kind gesture, but I was so tired that
I barely took a few bites of the food before falling onto the bed
half-asleep anyway.

I lifted the sheets
and took notice of something else I’d been unable to finish before
collapsing onto the bed last night; and that would be
dressing myself.
Apparently I had been so tired that I’d dropped onto the
mattress before I’d even finished disrobing. The paisley cotton
nightgown that I’d intended to wear was still on the foot of the
bed as proof of the mishap. It didn’t seem to be such a big deal at
first seeing that no one was here to gawk at me. Then, I heard a
thud.

“Good morning milady! It’s
time to get up and at ‘em! ” An exuberant maid smiled as she swung
the door open.

The woman must not have had any idea
on what she was walking in on – or perhaps really did and I was
just being self-conscious. Whatever the case, I panicked and
instinctually covered myself with my blanket. I blushed as I tried
to hide the fact that I was clad in only my
underclothes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry miss! I didn’t mean
to startle you…I’ll knock from now on if you like,” The maid
stammered. I eased back immediately when I saw that she was of no
threat to me. She looked to be around my age, maybe a year or two
older. The girl stood beside the door wearing a plain maid’s
uniform with a bun of tightly braided golden hair tucked behind her
head in a lacy net. She apologetically curtsied, looking as if she
felt she might have just gotten the plague.

“It’s really alright,” I attempted to
reassure her.

“No, it’s not. I’m so sorry miss, I
really should’ve knocked. This is my fault…” she nervously rushed.
“I promise that it’ll never happen again –”

“Hold on, please!” I interrupted,
cracking into a slight smile in an attempt to calm her. “I’m not
angry at all; I was just a little startled. Now, who are you,
exactly?”

“Oh, right. I’m
Emily Berry of the 11
th
caste. I’m your maid,” she suddenly composed
herself, curtsying. “Forgive my nerves, miss. Today is my first day
on the job and I’m still learning. I’ve been a housemaid for the
last few years, but Lady Abilene has appointed me your lady’s maid
on account of our ages.”

The
11
th
caste!
I suddenly lit. The
11
th
caste lived in the region right beside my own. I had known a
few 11’s in my lifetime, even had a good friend who was one.
Though, castes were still discouraged from associating with each
other – so we never did get to see each other very often. The
thought still brought me fond memories.

“You’re of the
11
th
?
I’m of the 10
th
!”

“I’ve heard.” She
flashed a light smile, casually moving around the room and skimming
all of the flat surfaces with her feather duster. “You mustn’t stay
in bed too long,
Miss Devereaux.
Lady Abilene has sent me to ready you for the
day. Your entire family is waiting to meet you.”

Miss
Devereaux.
Oh yes – that’s right. My last
name had also been changed now. The mention didn’t just make me
feel uneasy. No – it made me shiver.

“Right,” I replied, still in a
daze.

She helped me out of bed, seemingly
unfazed at the fact that I was presently wearing nothing by my
underwear. I guessed that she and every other ladies maid who’d
ever existed just considered it to be part of the job. I still
reached for the nightgown at the end of my bed and covered up as
soon as possible. Meeting someone for the first time wearing
nothing but a bra and underwear was awkward enough
already.

Emily led me to a pair of double-doors
that were adjacent to my bed and heaved to pull them open. When she
did, I was utterly breathless. I could barely believe what I was
seeing.

“You shouldn’t go with something
overly formal,” Emily began, at first not realizing that I was
paralyzed in shock. “You might be doing some outdoor activities,
though I’m not utterly certain. Anyhow, I assume that you know what
you want…”

Emily hushed when she looked over and
saw the bewilderment lining my expression. She quickly realized
what shock I must have been feeling as a common girl entering into
this very uncommon world. The maid had gone through a similar kind
of shock when she’d come to work here as a young
teenager.

“Oh…my…goodness,” were the only words
I could form at that moment.

I was standing in
front of a closet full of hundreds of colorful, elegant dresses.
Some were vibrant shades of blue and others were of deep purples
and reds. Some were day dresses, others afternoon dresses, sporting
clothes and even
ball gowns.
My body became immovably paralyzed at the sight.
That was when Emily

I stood there, utterly speechless.
Realizing that I wasn’t going to be moving any time soon, Emily
reached in and pulled out a cotton dress that was a bit plainer,
but no less extravagant in comparison to any of the clothes I’d
ever owned. It was a long, forest green dress with lace on the
sleeves. Still speechless, I silently complied as she ordered me to
hold my hands over the head and pull off my nightgown so that I
could slip on the new dress.

Though, after I had
pulled the costume over my head my astonishment was quickly
thwarted. I realized as soon as I had put it on that something
wasn’t right – but I had to take a look at myself in the mirror to
be sure. To my imminent disappointment, my reflection verified the
fact that this dress was clearly too big for me. And it wasn’t just
a bit large – I was
sinking
in it. Emily wrinkled her nose in
uncertainty.

“Perhaps we should try
another…”

She reached into the closet again
before I stopped her. If this dress was too big I didn’t want to
bother with the others. Most of my clothes had to be tailored
anyway. It was true that I was short. And it was clear that
everyone I’d met in this family was naturally very tall. If someone
could have taken a picture of me at that moment they would have
believed that the average-sized dress must have really been made
for someone unfathomably large.

“I think I’d rather wear my own
clothes today,” I resolved.

This time Emily quietly agreed. All
the while, she displayed a look that was nearly as disappointed as
mine. I reluctantly reached for my suitcase and sifted through it
for something decent to wear. They now seemed to be like rags in
comparison to what I’d just tried on. Eventually, I found a clean
and pressed tan dress that came up to my knees. Seemed decent
enough. It was still nothing compared to even the plainest of the
gowns in my new closet.

“Don’t fret milady. You
still look wonderful,” Emily told me, smoothing out the crinkles on
my simple dress before running a comb through my caramel colored
curls. I knew from her demeanor that she was genuine. At the same
time, I still convinced myself that she was only saying so that I
wouldn’t feel quite as bad; which may or may not have been at least
partially correct.

“Now then, seems you’re ready,” she
told me before leading me out the door. “Your grandmother is
waiting for you in the dining hall with your other relatives. I can
accompany you there if you like,” Emily told me before
curtsying.

Better to go with her than get lost, I
supposed. Emily quickly showed me down an immense corridor with
many windows and a lush velvety carpet lining each hall. If Emily
hadn’t been with me, I surely would have gotten lost. We both
stopped at a towering wooden door, and Emily bent down to whisper
in my ear. A tall doorman stood at the entrance as if he was
guarding the chambers of a royal.

“This is the entrance to the dining
hall,” she whispered. “It’s also only fair you know that Lady Beeti
and her daughter can cause quite the stir.” I held my breath,
nodding as Emily backed away. The doorman opened the door,
immediately barking my name.

“Announcing the arrival. of Miss
Elissa Devereaux!”

Of course, it was entirely necessary
to announce my presence at the breakfast table.

On the other side of the door, several
people were spread out in seats along the expansive of an endless
oak table. The monstrosity of wood had to have been half as tall as
the space between my floor and the ceiling, yet there were only
four people seated at it. There was a plate of eggs and a tray of
strange fruit that sat in the middle of the table, an odd-looking
centerpiece to it all. The family seated around it looked up
pryingly, exhibiting such peculiar looks that I wondered if I must
have had something stuck in my teeth or crawling in my hair. When
the door closed behind me, I became stiff and paralyzed by their
stares.

“Child, are you going to sit down and
eat or become a piece of artwork for us to behold?” Grandmamma
snarkily spoke up from her seat on the end of the table, breaking
my duration of silence.

Realizing what an embarrassment I was
causing, I nervously nodded and came to take a seat where
Grandmamma had motioned for me to join her at the table. I
awkwardly planted myself adjacent to the elegant but unorthodox
Wren and her snobbish sister, Beeti. There was another face that I
caught a glimpse of at the table – this one new to me.

It was the sour but refined face of a
girl who appeared to be at the height of her teenage years. The
girl was undoubtedly pretty, with grey eyes and swirling black
ringlets that barely reached her shoulders. Her complexion was
without blemish, but to me it looked abnormally pale. I flashed a
smile in her direction, but the girl gave me absolutely no
response. The only thing she could do was silently
scowl.

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