One by one, they returned Louisa’s infectious smile. “Morning, Louisa. Late again?”
Louisa raised a finger to her mouth, pretending to shush them. “Hoping Aunt Irmina is too busy to notice I’m a few minutes behind.”
“You’re in luck, as always.”
“The palace still in an uproar?” Louisa exhaled with relief. “I thought so.”
“You better hurry before those few minutes become half an hour. It’s nearly eight.”
They parted to let Louisa through, but at the last minute, the fourth guard intercepted Cinderella.
“Papers, miss?”
“She’s a new maid,” cut in Louisa. “No papers yet.”
“New maid?”
“Yes, for... for the new princess.”
At the words, Cinderella flinched, the blood rushing to her head. Luckily, no one was paying attention to her.
“Weren’t you paying attention to the morning announcement?” Louisa was saying. “About His Royal Highness searching for the love of his life?”
The guard narrowed his eyes. “You know we don’t listen to the servants’ morning announcement, and I don’t recall anything about His Grace hiring a new maid.”
“We’re about to have a new princess, aren’t we?” Louisa huffed. “Then obviously the palace needs a new maid. Come on, let her in. I’m already late as it is, and you know how Aunt Irmina is....” She clasped her hands together in entreaty.
“Go on, hurry before we change our minds.”
Once they were out of the guards’ earshot, Louisa squeezed Cinderella’s hand and let out a little squeal. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Now for the tricky part... Aunt Irmina.MadameIrmina to you.”
“Is she in charge?”
“Yes, of the Blooms and Looms,” Louisa explained breezily.
“Blooms and Looms?”
“That’s what we call the quarters for all the maids and the seamstresses. We change into our uniforms, report to duty, and eat there. Some of the girls even live there, depending on their posts.” She gestured left at the fork in the hallway. “That way leads to the Cooks and Looks wing. Quarters for all the butlers, valets, chefs, and so on.”
Cinderella chuckled. “Who came up with these names?”
“I don’t know. They were around long before I even got here.” Louisa guided her down a long corridor wallpapered in cream-colored brocade. She was talking so fast now that Cinderella could barely understand her. “But they’re not official, mind you, not like all the names for the roomsupstairs. The Amber State Room, the Hall of Westerly Mirrors, the Emerald Lounging Room. The Royal Apartments. Only the servants use Blooms and Looms, and Cooks and Looks. When you’re stationed up there, and the nobles start talking about downstairs—thisis where they mean.”
Upstairs. Downstairs. It all made sense to Cinderella. Upstairs was where the masters and mistresses lived—like her stepmother’s and stepsisters’ quarters. Downstairs was the kitchen, the pantry, the chicken coop, the stables—all the places where Cinderella had spent her days working.
She may have returned to the palace, but being downstairs here felt just as far away from the prince as her old attic.
The main chamber came into view. This part of the palace didn’t look anything like what Cinderella had seen at the ball. In fact, it reminded her of home: checkered floors, wooden walls coated with burgundy wallpaper, and silver tables with slim vases of tulips. There was even an impressive line of bronze call bells lining one side of the wall.
“Records,” Louisa said hurriedly, gesturing at a long piece of paper tacked against the wall, “for keeping track of our chores and hours. Write your name every morning when you come in for breakfast. That is, unless you end up as a personal attendant. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“All the royals have regular attendants—those positions aren’t open. But visitors are a different story. They usually bring their own retinue: ladies-in-waiting and butlers and maids—even though it is hospitality for the king to offer his own staff. Father says the tradition was meant to prevent conspiracies back in the old days.” She shrugged. “The point is, personal attendants are at their master’s beck and call.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” said Cinderella.
“You have no idea what you’re in for.” Louisa shuddered. “They say the last time the Duchess was here, she wouldn’t drink the palace water—only water brought to her from the streams of Mount Bonclare. Her attendant had to write letters to every lord in Valors to get her some. She likes her tea scalding hot and throws it back at you if the temperature is wrong, and once she made her attendant bring a caged lark to wake her in the morning, because she said that the girl’s voice was too shrill! Lucky for you, we had to draw straws yesterday to see who’d have to serve her... but—”
