The Half-Class by Kayvion Lewis

Chapter Thirty

The maid opened the door and hurried inside the chamber. I crept in behind her, standing still as she lit candles at the sides of the bed with a smaller candle she carried before her. With what consciousness I had left, I observed that it was a spacey chamber, boasting a bed bigger than any I’d ever slept in, thick curtains, and a wardrobe large enough to fit three of me in, along with a few chairs and a tall mirror.

The decor was clearly remnants of Morra—simple in design and subtle in beauty. The only thing certain to be from Ryland was the velvety green and blue carpet settled under the sitting chairs and the plump sofa lingering on one side of the room. Still, the room was a small comfort. A little familiarity in this distant castle.

I was ready to be left alone the moment I entered the room, but the maid insisted on helping me ready for bed. I had no choice. There was no way I could undo the row of buttons running down my back alone.

The maid sat me down on the bench at the foot of my bed and unraveled the braid adorning my head. I sat silent and docile as her fingers weaved through my curls. She was an older woman, and her fingers were nimble with experience. I imagined Auntie Jen behind me, running her fingers through my curls like she had when I was a little girl.

Then dropping her hands to my neck.

Then wrapping them around my throat.

Then squeezing.

What would she think of tonight? What would Kat? Luke? Gilow?

Saddy.

They had to be well on their way back to the city now. What was Richal going to tell her? Did he know that it was me who did that to his brother? He couldn’t have seen me, but he must have heard me. Heard my name. Heard the ultimatum the king gave to me. He had to know that I tried, and at the very least, had saved him. There was nothing else I could do. Would he tell Saddy that?

Maybe he wouldn’t tell her anything. The incident on the trail shook Richal to a degree I hadn’t imagined. But this might have broken him forever. And what would Brison be after injuries like those?

In a way, they had died tonight.

The door clicked shut, and I startled. The old woman was gone, and a new, younger maid replaced her. She stood me up and began to free the buttons along my back. I felt again like a doll, with no autonomy of my own, as I let her remove me from my satin prison and replace it with a flowy night shift that someone had laid across the bed. Only when she moved in front of me to settle the sleeves of my gown on my shoulders did I recognize her as the same maid who had called Cass and me from the library earlier. I’d let her dress me completely and said nothing to her.

“What’s your name?” I asked softly.

She had an odd but not unpleasant appearance. Her skin was a beautiful, very dark tone, and her hair, rather than black, was almost the same shade of deep brown.

“It’s Bridgette, Miss.”

“Bridgette.” Not an unpopular name in Morra or Ryland. “Are you from here, or did you come from Ryland?”

She stepped past me and pulled back the thick bed cover. Like a child, I crawled into the bed and let her tuck the sheets over me. “I’m from Aurell,” she said. “I work in the palace.”

“Oh.”

Bridgette retrieved my evening gown from the floor. I sat up and panicked for a brief moment, remembering the map I’d hidden away in it. If that was discovered, I would never leave this castle. Not alive.

Carrying the gown to the massive wardrobe, she hung it inside, likely for me to take back with me tomorrow.

I breathed a sigh of relief as she shut the wardrobe doors and came back to the foot of my bed.

She folded her hands over her apron. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Do you know if I’ll be able to leave tomorrow?”

“No, miss. I don’t.”

I slumped into the sheets. I didn’t expect her to.

“One of us will come by in the morning with day clothes for you.”

“Can you be the one to bring them?” I asked. Bridgette I barely knew, but she was already more familiar to me than any other maid. Perhaps it was because her age was nearer to mine, but if I had to be attended to, I preferred it to be her.

She nodded. “Yes, Miss. I’ll see you in the morning.” She lowered her head and drifted towards the chamber door. I sunk down into the bed and pulled the covers tight over myself.

“Miss Evelyn,” Bridgette called from the door, her voice barely loud enough for me to hear. I turned my head to her. “It’s not your fault. You did the best you could.”

My eyes watered as she slipped out of the room. Alone, I pulled the sheets over my head and tried to hide from the world.

The best I could.My best got Brison maimed. My best made Richal kill that officer. My best got me trapped in this castle.

I pressed my face to the sheets and wept into them. Brison is nearly dead. Those officers are dead. My parents are dead. When would this finally end?

I sobbed into the silence.

It had to end soon. One way or another.