Agent of the Dragon

Lady Taryn Bandar would have been pretty if she hadn’t had the pinched face of a person used to getting her way, but who has just been told “no.” Mieryth watched Lord Camyrn Bandar hand his bride down from the carriage. Lady Taryn’s chestnut hair hung in ringlets to brush the top of her chest. Mieryth despaired at the sight until the part of her that was Rhysa noted the way the hair moved when Lady Taryn tossed her head. The difference was slight, but Lady Taryn’s hair hung that way naturally. Mieryth breathed a silent sigh of relief. She wouldn’t be required to spend hours every day recreating those curls. Cerulean irises peered at the world through eyes habitually narrowed in suspicion. Nose and mouth combined with an oval face to create a semblance of classical beauty, though lips thinned with tantrums and cheeks hollow with sulk ruined the effect. Mieryth devoutly hoped this was a temporary expression, but suspected it was indicative of the Lady’s typical attitude.

Lord Camyrn Bandar had broad shoulders that would wear muscle very well. Unfortunately, he didn’t appear to have much in the way of muscle. The suitcase he lifted easily, however, caused the footman to wince when he tried to pick it up. Lord Camyrn escorted his lady up the manor stairs, and something in the way he moved warned Mieryth this man was very dangerous. Mieryth turned from the window, and raced to the great hall where the introductions were to be made.

Mieryth closed the side door quietly behind her, and slipped into her place at the end of the line of servants; she wasn’t late, but only barely. She’d just settled her skirts when the main entry doors opened, and the newcomers followed Armina in. Mieryth saw immediately Sterling had been right: the fun-loving grandmother was gone, replaced by an efficient statue of chipped ice.

Despite the relative prestige of her position, Mieryth had been placed at the end of the receiving line. All the other servants were assigned to the manor itself. No matter where the Lord and Lady were, unless a particular servant was specifically requested, the staff would remain here. As body servant to the Lady, Mieryth would go wherever Lady Taryn went.

Mieryth listened as the Lord and Lady were introduced to each servant. Lord Camyrn’s voice was deep and placid. When he was introduced to Sterling, his voice was tinged with hints of laughing mischief. They already knew each other from the Bandar manor in the city. No doubt there was quite a history between the two. Lady Taryn’s voice was high pitched, though light rather than shrill. Unlike Lord Camyrn, her voice indicated she was categorizing the servants into “will be of use”, “may be of use”, and “wouldn’t notice if he died.”

When they stopped to be introduced to Mieryth, their body language indicated this was not a marriage of love. There was respect, but it was obvious this was an arranged marriage. Another thing she noticed caused her to groan inwardly: Lord Camyrn’s eyes flicked from Mieryth to Taryn and back again. Mieryth doubted Taryn had actually seen his eyes move, but something about his reaction obviously sent off alarms. Taryn hid her reaction, but not fast enough to hide the flash in her eyes.

“Lady Taryn.” Armina’s voice was clinical. “This is Mieryth. She has been assigned as your personal maid and body servant.”

Mieryth curtsied deeply; almost as deep as for royalty. Maybe showing a certain amount of subservience will keep the peace. As she straightened, she saw Lady Taryn had been only partially mollified, though Mieryth saw Armina nodding approval. So. Armina saw the potential problem as well. Good. At least the only person who could actually fire her was aware of the dangers of jealousy. She could be reassigned at the request of either Lord or Lady, but only the castellan could actually fire a servant.

“A pleasure,” said Lady Taryn. Her voice held the purr of a cat about to make a mouse’s remaining life a living hell. No. This was not going to be pleasant.

Lord Camyrn gave no hint he’d noticed the byplay. He nodded to Mieryth, and there was a light in his eyes she hadn’t seen since she’d been sold to Lady Kasteryn.

Rhysa reasserted herself long enough to be sure her aura was still locked down. Nothing was leaking, so his reaction was not being influenced by her nature. Rhysa resubmerged and Mieryth could hear snarling curses in the depths of her mind.

Before Armina and the Bandars passed beyond hearing, Mieryth heard Armina mention something about a tour. After the double doors closed behind them, there was a quiet susurration among the staff as everyone relaxed and adjusted clothes unnecessarily. Someone stepped out of line, and the others broke up as if they hadn’t dared be the first one to break ranks.

Mieryth wandered to a chair by the fireplace and lowered herself onto it. She stared into the middle distance, her thoughts racing, trying to figure out a way to handle the situation effectively.

She flinched when a hand touched her shoulder, then she recovered herself and looked up to see a frown of concern on Sterling’s face. She took his hand and placed it on her shoulder, giving it a pat before returning her hand to her lap.

“Sterling.” She shook her head slightly. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

He pulled his hand from her shoulder and moved a chair to sit knee to knee with her. He took her hands and held them between his. A small part of her mind noticed he wasn’t nervous when he did it. Part of her mind rejoiced, but Rhysa grumbled from the depths.

“I have a really bad feeling about this,” she amended.

“Why?”

“You were too far to see. Camyrn--.” She paused to think of the right way to express what she’d seen. “Camyrn seemed very attracted to me. Taryn probably didn’t actually see anything, but tensions shift when someone’s interest is sparked. I just met her, and she’s already jealous.”

“Surely not.”

“I’ve seen her kind before. She tends to think of people as possessions. Now she’s married, she’s begun to think of Camyrn as hers. Thanks to his lusts, she now thinks I’m trying to steal what’s hers--or that I will soon try. This is not a good situation.”

“Huh. Did anyone else notice?”

“I think Armina saw.”

“That’s something, at least.” He shook his head slowly as if sorting through something. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about finding yourself abruptly unemployed. Armina likes you and she’s experienced enough to know spite when she sees it. Camyrn’s well aware a good deal of his family’s prosperity is due to her management. He won’t challenge her decisions without a very good reason.” He looked into Mieryth’s eyes. “I think you should speak with her about this as soon as possible. Maybe she can find a solution.”

Mieryth nodded her agreement. “Maybe tonight. After Taryn’s gone to bed.”

“Whenever you can. The sooner the better.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “You’d probably better go up to the Lady’s rooms. You don’t want to give her a reason to accuse you of slacking already.”

Mieryth nodded and took her hands from his. She very nearly cried at the hint of regret deep inside when she reclaimed her hands. She straightened her clothes, then her shoulders. “Thank you.”

The suite of rooms was empty when she arrived. She re-checked them to be sure nothing was out of place. Everything seemed fine; she took a book from the bookshelf, and sat in a chair to read while she waited. It wasn’t long before she heard the outer door open and close. Footsteps sounded in the room she slept in. Then Taryn stood in the doorway, glaring at her.

Taryn stormed to Mieryth, and grabbed the book from her hands. “Don’t you ever touch my things again.” Her voice was still high, but now it snarled. “Stand up.”

Mieryth hastily got to her feet, nonplussed. She waited as Taryn examined the book as if trying to find fingerprints or torn pages. “You will never touch my things,” Taryn repeated.

“Yes, m’Lady.” Mieryth tried to sound penitent. Who did she think had unpacked her belongings?

Taryn looked suspiciously at Mieryth for a long moment before giving an abrupt nod. “Good. Now come here and undress me. I want a bath.” Without waiting for a response she went into the bedroom. Mieryth followed quickly.

Taryn stood impatiently as Mieryth unlaced her. Whoever had put this dress on, had made sure none of the lacings would slip or come undone. Mieryth glared at the knots as she picked at them. She did her best to ignore Taryn’s sighs and grumbles. Finally, as she was contemplating going for scissors, the first knot started to come undone. With the first knot loosened, the others quickly followed. She slipped the dress over Taryn’s head and carefully hung it in the wardrobe: corset, stockings, and shoes quickly followed. Taryn removed her shift, and held her hand for the towel Mieryth had picked up. She wrapped herself in the towel and stalked to the bathing room.

Before she had a chance to follow, Mieryth heard a soft shriek of outrage. Mieryth hurried into the bathing room to see what had gone wrong. Taryn stared at the cushion on the wood stool. “What is that doing there?” Mieryth winced at the piercing tone. Taryn swung around to face her. “Well?”

“I thought it would make things more comfortable.” Mieryth kept her voice quiet.

“You thought,” said Taryn with a sneer. “Did you think about mold? Mildew? Once a cushion gets damp, nothing can stop mold or mildew from growing. It’ll never come out. Take it away.”

Mieryth sighed, removed the pillow, and placed it on the bed. When she returned to the bathing chamber, Mieryth found Taryn standing next to the tub, arms crossed, foot tapping. “Is something wrong, m’lady?”

“I’m waiting for you to help me into the bath. You wouldn’t want me to slip and fall, would you?” It came out cloying and sarcastic.

“No, m’lady.” Mieryth took the towel and let Taryn hold her shoulder as she stepped into the bath. Taryn’s grip was strong, her fingers were talons trying to find a weak spot to exploit.

When Taryn was finally settled, Mieryth fetched the long-handled sponge, soap, and some bath oils. She placed these within reach, and pulled the now cushionless stool closer.

Taryn stared straight ahead and leaned forward. Mieryth suppressed a sigh and washed Taryn’s back. The task was quickly done, and Taryn leaned back. Mieryth waited for further instructions. A long moment of silence ensued. At last, Taryn turned her head mechanically to stare at Mieryth. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to wash me or not?”

Mieryth managed to stop gaping at Taryn before Taryn could call her down for manners. Wordlessly, Mieryth reached for a scrap of toweling and the soap. She worked up lather on the toweling and started washing Taryn. Taryn mechanically raised arms, twisted shoulders, and lifted legs so Mieryth could reach. When she was done, Mieryth set aside the toweling and stood to fetch the towel. Taryn’s cold voice froze her in place. “You missed a spot.”

Mieryth was confused at first, then disgust and shame dawned as she realized what Taryn was demanding. “Surely...,” began Mieryth, but Taryn’s cold stare stopped the protest. Mieryth’s shame mounted, reluctance stiffening her muscles. She could feel her own reluctance in her stiffening muscles. Nevertheless, she grabbed a clean piece of toweling and turned to find Taryn had sunk further into the bath, her legs spread.

“And then,” Mieryth said, “she slid deeper into the bath and propped her knees on the sides.” Mieryth’s face still burned with mortification and rage. Sterling sat across a kitchen table and gaped.

“What did you do?”

She gave him a disgusted look. “I washed. There wasn’t much else I could do.”

He shook his head. “She must have really taken a dislike to you. And so quickly.” He thought for a second. “Did Armina have any suggestions?”

Mieryth sighed. “Not really. At least nothing I haven’t already thought of. She looked worried, though.”

Sterling raised his eyebrows. “She doesn’t usually let things like that show. It must be pretty bad.”

Mieryth shrugged, uncomfortable at how close she’d just come to revealing too much. Armina’s expression hadn’t been obvious, and only Rhysa’s training had allowed her to interpret the little she’d seen. Fortunately, Sterling mistook her shrug; he patted a hand. “I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about. At least not in the long run.” She gave him a half-hearted smile.

“Speaking of worrying. Shouldn’t you be in your room outside her door?”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Mieryth shook her head and smiled before a distressed look more than touched his face. “No. She’s spending this night with her husband.” She paused, then added spitefully, “Probably seeing to it he doesn’t stray.” A hopeful look flickered across Sterling’s face, but she ignored it. “It’s been a long day, and I suspect tomorrow will be longer. I’m going downstairs to sleep in my real bedroom. Good night, Sterling.”

“Good night.” Sterling, Mieryth decided, hid his disappointment well.

The house had obviously gone to bed. The halls were dark except for a nightcandle every thirty feet or so. Silence cloaked the halls with the peace of sleep. She thought about the events of the day as she walked. It had been a long day; she hadn’t exaggerated to Sterling. The sudden arrival of Lord and Lady Bandar had caused a very hasty reshuffling of priorities. If the household staff had been a single organism, she’d have said several muscles had been wrenched today. Things were going to be sore for a few days.

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