The Moonling

This is chpater 1 and part of chapter 2 of a book im working on

The Moonling

Claudia M. Lee

Chapter 1:

Aliza grunted, scrubbing the cobblestone floors of her grandmother's mansion. She was grateful Ophelia was out on business and not 'supervising' the servants today. She would make a comment about Aliza's graceless position. Her raggedy dress bunched about her knees, her toes cramped from curling, and she felt her neck needed to pop. She sighed, leaning back, blowing a loose hair out of her face. Looking around, she grabbed the half-empty bucket, splashed it out, and went out to the well.

Her grandmother's-well, her grandfather's land was 20 acres, and it had once produced produce for the palace. The squash would be twice the average size, the cornstalks would reach the heavens, or so Aliza's mother said.

"Good morning, ma'am," Luci said as she gathered what little eggs she could from the coop.

"Luci," she said, her eyes wide, "if Ophelia were to hear you call me..."

"Pish posh!" the older woman spat. "Your grandmother has no more right to this land than those filthy locusts that took the crops. "

"Lucille!" Aliza hissed

Luci huffed and turned back to her task, signaling their conversation was over. She winced, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Luci. Luci please. I'm sorry."

Luci jerked her shoulder out of Aliza's reach, stood straight, and walked stiffly into the kitchen. Aliza closed her eyes, trying to push down the feeling of guilt swirling in her stomach.

"Mother, what am I going to do?" she asked the emptiness, expecting something to answer her.

She opened them, and every time she did this, she hoped against hope that everything would be a dream, and the Disorder hadn't taken her, but each time it was the same. The wind ruffled her hair as she continued her way to the well, humming a song her mother would sing as she sewed and embroidered clothes and cushions. Grabbing the fraying rope, she tied a tight knot and lowered it down. However, as she lifted it up, she nearly spilled it again. The water showed her reflection...but it had a slight glow around it.

Like it had been before her mother had died.

Gathering her skirts up, she raced back in, nearly tripping over Posie, the nursing barn cat. Luci turned quickly, hearing her stumble.

"Honestly, Aliza, what have I told you about running into my kitchen?"

She placed her hands on her ample hips, glaring at her with a look that could instill fear into the hearts of anyone, including the Elder's headguard, who was rumored to have a heart of stone.

"Luci, my reflection, it's..." she gasped, trying to catch her breath. She coughed as she struggled.

"It's what?"

Luci's voice was still firm but held an edge of concern.

"It's not safe!"

The cook looked into Aliza's eyes before scoffing.

"If you're doing this so you don't have to do that cursed work- "

"Luci, please just listen to me. My reflection-in the water. "

"What is going on in here?"

Aliza stiffened, recognizing the shrill, overly stern voice behind her. She didn't want to turn around and face the owner, even as Luci let her go.

"Mrs. Ophelia. I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow."

"My business ended early."

Ophelia began walking towards Aliza, who was keeping her gaze focused on the floor, each click of her grandmother's cane, each ruffle of her silk dress, feeling like a Haladie slicing her. She'd welcome that before her grandmother's wrath. The mistress of the house circled the girl before stopping behind her halfway the second time. She leaned her cane against the oak table. The air was still, and Aliza began thinking that maybe her punishment would not come before she felt her grandmother's clawlike nails digging into the crown of her head.

Aliza shrieked loudly, her eyes tearing up, as she desperately tried to push Ophelia's hand off.

"Miss!" Luci began reaching to help Aliza. (She cared about the girl as if she were her own.

"Stay out of it, Mrs. Ashen!" Ophelia growled. "Need I remind you of that daughter of yours?"

That comment made Aliza stiffen slightly.

Luci had a young daughter who was born deaf and mute. She knew that Luci and her husband, Tom, would sometimes work late into the night to provide for their eight children.

She shrieked as Ophelia tugged her hair sharply again, before tossing her roughly to the ground.

"What have I told you about those lies you spout?" her grandmother demanded

Aliza struggled to lift herself up to face her.

"It's not a lie." She insisted.

Ophelia grabbed her cane, raising it to strike the girl, but a hand stopped her.

"That's quite enough. "

Aliza dared to look up to see an unfamiliar face glaring, not at her, but at her grandmother. She glimpsed the colors of the royal family. The man forced Ophelia's hands down, as roughly as she had thrown down Aliza a few moments earlier.

"Do I need to tell Prince Jotham what you were doing?"

"No, no, sir," Ophelia stammered.

Aliza blinked. She had never seen her grandmother cower before anyone, not even her grandfather. As her grandmother backed away, she could get a good look at the man. His auburn hair was slicked back, his eyes were amber, and his skin showed a tan from working in the fields since childhood. As he walked towards her, she lowered her gaze quickly again, only to have him gently force her face up to meet his.

"You're Aliza Selene, correct?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

He smiled, tucking a stray lock from her face. His eyes glinted with kindness, not rage.

"I'm Alduin Orion, captain of the emperor's guards."

Saying nothing, he took her hand, pulling her to her feet, hugging her protectively. He turned to face Ophelia, the glint of anger in his eyes returning.

"I assure you, ma'am," he spat out, "the prince's new handmaiden will not be returning here soon. "

He gripped Aliza's hand tightly, so tightly she thought he might tug it off as he led her stiffly out.

The ride in the royal carriage was bumpy and filled with loud creaks. Aliza sat on the velvet seat on one side, Alduin on the other. They sat in awkward silence for a bit, staring at each other, daring the other to speak first.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

Aliza blinked, startled by the question.

"Yes, sir." She replied.

Alduin finally cracked a smile.

"Aliza, you don't have to call me sir, not while we're alone."

She gulped, looking away quickly, trying to gaze out the window, only to have the captain gently force her head back to face him. She was not accustomed to the deep sadness and worry in his amber eyes.

"It's going to be okay." He soothed.

Aliza didn't know she was silently crying until she let tears slip down her cheeks. Alduin reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief with embroidered stars and a moon. She also saw the previous queen's initials embroidered on it as he dabbed at her cheeks.

"Where did you get that?" she hiccupped, trying to catch her breath.

He paused, glancing at the handkerchief a little too quickly.

"It was my mother's. She was Queen Aldonza's handmaiden."

"But Aldonza didn't have a- "she began, only to be interrupted as the carriage came to an abrupt stop.

Aliza peeked out as the driver opened the door. The palace was twenty times the size of her family's estate. They built it with the finest brick, and they neatly kept the lawn.

"Well?" the gruff voice of the driver spat. "You gonna move, scullery maid?"

"Scullery maid?" she asked, looking at Alduin, eyebrow raised

"He calls every new maid that comes here that." He explained with an eye roll, stepping out, taking Aliza's hand, and helping her.

"Come. I'll show you where you are to be staying. "

Chapter 2

The servants' quarters had a little more space than the quarters in her old home. The quarters in the Aries mansion, accommodating servants who chose or were required to stay, were cramped, frequently housing three to five individuals per room. Dark gray paint covered the walls, so it was often difficult to find your way around unless the sun beamed through the small window. Here, someone striped the walls with beautiful shades of lavender, mint, and yellow. The room had at least 5 times the space that her old room and, what Aliza loved most, there were windows on three sides, letting light beam through, and there were sconces for when the goddess Jolene draped her curtain of darkness over the land.

Expecting it to be firm, she sat on the bed, squeaking as she sank. She sighed heavily, falling back, her hair fanning out as she lay down. She hadn't felt comfort like this in a while.

A knock echoed through the quiet room. She sat up, anticipating Aldunin, but saw a shapely woman.

"Enjoying that bed, are ye dear?"

Aliza sat up quickly, ignoring the rush that came to her head. She was used to it by now.

"Yes. Yes, I am Miss- "

"Mrs. Dorothy Rogers. People in the Chief Elder's service call me Dot."

"Dot?" Aliza tried. The only person older than her she had ever called by her first name was Luci, and that was only when Ophelia wasn't watching her.

Dot laughed good-naturedly. "You'll get used to it in time. Now, change quickly and tie that hair back. We need your help."

"Help?" she asked, already fearing what her grandmother had signed her up for.

"To Prince Jotham, of course." The elder woman sighed, putting her hands on her ample hips.

As Aliza stared at her, confused, she clapped her hands twice.

"Hurry now, chop chop."

Aliza was brought to the palace to serve as a serving girl.

Again.

The ceramic tea set rattled on the cart as she pushed, the wheels slightly squeaky, her hands shaking, as she looked for the room Prince Jotham was in. She had been told to take the tea to the east wing, to the last door on the left. She almost passed the door completely had she not heard a crash and someone shouting.

"What good are you if you do nothing?!"

She took two steps back as quickly and as carefully as she could as a slew of royal nurses and doctors hurried out, some dropping their medical instruments on their way. She waited for a few moments before cautiously peeking in.

The room was dimly lit, but she could make out the shape of an ornate bed with a sheer cream canopy around it. If asked, she would have guessed velvet for the blankets because she could hardly identify the material. One could barely see the wallpaper in the dim light, but what she could see were pink florets on a dark background.

On the bed lay a woman, well, not a woman, as she was just a year older than her, her light hair fanned out like a halo Aliza had heard rumors about her. This was Prince Jotham's wife. Lady Esther Luna. Beside the bed sat a hunched figure. Aliza couldn't make out his face, but she could see his auburn hair, tan skin, and fine clothes decorated with golden embroidery and gold buttons. His body was shaking as he sobbed silently and muttered to himself. Aliza stepped in quietly, trying not to make too much noise with the tea cart. Parking it carefully near a dresser, she turned.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice sounding meek.

The man looked up, and at the sight of his worldly gray eyes, Aliza knew who this was instantly.

Prince Jotham.

"Who are you?" he demanded. Before she could answer, he spat out, "What do you want? Weren't you maids told we were to have total privacy?"

"I-I-"Aliza tried to squeak out, but words failed her

"You're-You're-" Jotham mocked

Aliza shuffled a bit, gripping her skirt, her knuckles turning white. The prince continued to give her an icy glare.

"I...was told to bring you tea. I wasn't told about the privacy."

She nibbled her lip, trying not to make it bleed. Hearing Jotham get up, she heard his heavy, intimidating footsteps echo in the quiet room. Trying not to flinch, she gazed at the floorboards as he circled her. She swallowed the sticky grim forming in her throat as Jotham looked at the tea cart. Without so much as a warning, the prince picked up one teacup and appeared to be inspecting it.

"You know what's so disappointing about these, servant girl?" he said, as if wanting her answer.

"My name's not 'servant girl', it's- "

Before Aliza could finish, she ducked as Jotham threw the teacup towards her, and it shattered against the wall in tiny shards.

"They're fragile." Jotham sneered. "Like my Esther."

He made his way back over to the side of the bed.

"Leave us."

"But, Your Majesty-"

"I said, leave us!" he barked.

She rushed out of the room, ignoring the tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. She shut the door behind her roughly, happy Jotham couldn't see the tears falling down her face.

Jotham pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting down heavily in the chair next to his dying wife.

Dying, according to the doctors.

Those same doctors who had helped give birth to their five children -four stillborn, the last born four months too early. After losing them, he had hoped Esther would find the strength to live. She had until the day of the ball.

She had collapsed after barely biting into a chocolate-covered pastry.