Ch 1: Everyone needs to eat.

Title: Being Valter

Chapter: Everyone needs to eat.

Genre: Fantasy, Middle Grade

Rating: G

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Fia knelt quickly, the bundle of clothes tucked against her gut as she washed the last traces of magic dust off of her hands.  A scullery maid had no business with magic dust on her.  Hastily she dried her hands on her rumpled skirts and darted through the herb garden and into the palace kitchens.  It was early still, but in the kitchens the work started early and didn’t end until even later.

“Fia, I need those pots clean so I can make the porridge!”

“Yes Cook!”  Fia dumped her bundle on the floor and picked around until she found the hem of her Maid’s uniform and pulled it over her head.  She hadn’t even bothered taking the apron off separately so they both went on over her head.  With a twitch of her skirts the clothes settled on her comfortably enough for her to begin.

“You’re such a dear, coming in early.”  The Cook continued to chatter away at Fia while she scrubbed.

Her head bowed, Fia only knew the other cooks and helpers arrived because of the sound of shuffling feat and the growing heat as more pots and kettles and dishes were added to the stove.  The mornings passed in enough regularity that Fia didn’t even have to think about what she did.  She took a pot from the pile that grew on her right and scraped out spare bits of food into a refuse bin and then she scrubbed it until it was clean and added it to the stack on her left that would disappear with astonishing speed.  It left her mind free to think about other things.  Like her nightly lessons.

She was making progress, but at the expense of her sleep.  She had been so tired last night that she had fallen asleep still wearing her under dress and magic dust all over her.  If her neighbor wasn’t so loud when he got up for his shift with the morning watch she very well might still be sleeping.

Fia glanced up at the slit of a window high above her head.  There were two moments in her work day that she waited for.  One was now, just after the royals had eaten breakfast.

“Cook, I’m taking the slop out.”  She didn’t bother drying her hands.  The slop bucket was mostly full and she waddled to keep it from sloshing out and on her dress.

It was her favorite moment of the morning.  She lollygagged a bit in the herb garden.  If she was going to see him, if he was going to the kennels, he’d do it now.  Some mornings the prince didn’t go to the kennels after breakfast, but not knowing made it more exciting.  It was almost eerily quiet, with no one around, but still Fia waited.  She liked to imagine that the prince wanted some time alone, a little peace and quiet that he spent with his dogs.  She dreamed that the prince felt that the only ones who understood him were his faithful hounds.

It was silly, her day dreaming, but Fia couldn’t help it.  She’d always thought the prince was the most handsome and tragic figure she’d ever seen.  He was the only child of the dead king; his uncle ruled as regent in his place and the prince could do nothing without a host of servants shadowing him.  Fia knew she would never speak to him.  She was nothing to him.  But she still had those moments in the garden when he walked past.  She still had her dreams.

Back in the kitchen Fia rolled up her sleeves and tucked into washing the breakfast dishes.  The fine plates she handled with care, handing off to another to dry and put away.  As the breakfast preparation gave way to clean up, some of the cooks and helpers retreated to the garden to shell and slice.  Fia would finish as the cooking started again, giving her some time off her feet to eat.  She tucked herself between an awkward alcove of stone in the garden, her food balanced on her knees and examined her rough, wrinkled hands.  Being a scullery maid wasn’t ideal but it paid well and she had all evening free to spend studying.

Fia was so tired she leaned her head back against the cool stone and closed her eyes.

“Fia! Wake up!”

Her eyes fluttered open and she yelped.  “Cook! I’m so sorry.”  Wedged in as she was she couldn’t get up without pushing Cook, so she stayed where she was.  “What’s wrong, Cook?”  The woman’s face was red and splotchy, her eyes wide like a scared animals.

“Get inside deary, come on.”  Cook hustled Fia inside and shut the door.

“I’m sorry Cook – “

“Hush now.”  Cook put a firm hand on Fia’s arm and a finger to her own lips.

From the corner of her eye Fia could see the rest of the kitchen staff huddled over near the root cellar and a few clustering around one of the large tables used for cutting.  They all had worried expressions on their faces.

“What happened?”  Fia whispered.

“We don’t know.  A paige came running in and said some armored men came into the palace this morning and there was fighting.”

“The royals?”  Fia gasped, her mind flying to her troubled prince.

“We don’t know anything.”  Cook shook her head and hefted a basket of greens onto the tale, “But people need feeding so lets get to it.”