Dirty Laundry

It's been two weeks of being locked in the laundry room. There are other maids but they are forbidden to talk to me outside of giving orders. A guard is stationed inside the room when maids are present and one outside of the other two doors at all times. 

My hands hurt a little but living on my own for a year helped make my skin be not as delicate as it once was. Also the wounds and bruises on my legs are starting to heal. Lately the maids have been making small comments to each other on how laundry has been easier or how it doesn't take as long as it once did. I take their comments to each other as complements since they do give small smiles to me. They know what happened but stay quiet infront of the guard.

Surprisingly though I'm getting more food then I did when I had my title. Which I'm not complaining about because when night falls and I'm alone in this room I practice swordwork. If I'm going to get out of here it's going to be a fight. I'm surprised Chris hasn't found me yet but then again the guards probably wouldn't let him pass either.

The sun is getting low in the sky now. The other maids head off to help with dinner and what ever entertainment father or mother are hosting. So I'm left alone again. There is still work to be done. I begin sorting clothes and a piece of paper falls from one. I unfold it and there is writing on the one little slip of paper and another piece is blank.

I know you're there. Please write back.

This is Chris' hand writing! This is how we will communicate! I look around and of course no maid can read or write. Meaning no quill or ink in the laundry room. 

I look to the fire heath as I throw Chris' note into it. Using a poker I bring out a piece of coal and dunk it in water then set it next to the fire to dry. Sitting watching the coal dry was awful. I get up and begin washing Chris' clothes so I can send my note back in them.

Next to the heath I begin trying to write my letter. Everything was smudged so I couldn't even read it. I smudged it some more into a shape of a chicken. An angry looking chicken but a chicken if you hold the paper just right. Hopefully he gets the hint I need some way to write. Once his clothes are dry I slip the note into his pants pocket and fold everything neatly. Then I continue on like I have been.

A few days goes by and I'm sorting Chris' dirty clothes again. The awful smelling clothes I may add. I prick my finger on something sharp and see a tip of a quill. I slip it into my apron quickly and keep moving. Farther into the cart I find a small bottle of ink that I hide in my hand as the guard looks over at me. He smiles sadly at me then looks away. Did he see it? Am I going to get in trouble? I need to hide it and not on me.

I walk to the wood pile and drop the bottle behind the wood for now before filling the heath. Then I continue my work. That night I'm left hanging all the wet clothes up on the lines. I lay next to the fire and write a note to Chris.

If you can, please tell him I'm fine. Any ideas for me?

Using a broom I practice swinging it like a sword waiting for clothes to dry. The second floor door clicks as it's unlocked. Quickly I start sweeping the floor as the guard from earlier walks in. He sits down on the steps and watches me. My hair is standing up on end. I do not feel safe. There are guards outside the doors right? Surely if he tries anything they would step in. But my title was stripped so would they?

Eventually he gets up and leaves. I'm a little scared to sleep tonight.

A few more days goes by. Again I'm sorting smelly laundry alone well sorta alone. The same guard is back and he visited one other time. He just sits quietly on the stairs watching me work. And I stay within arms reach of a broom so I can maybe have a fighting chance. The goose bumps I get from the guy are awful. 

I find small papers in Chris' clothes so I quickly hide them in my apron. Once he leaves I read Chris' note.

I don't know if I can get you out this time. Well at least not right away. I'm sorry. 

My paper is luckily small enough my tears missed it as they fell from my eyelashes. If I say anything about this guard and word reaches Rox then so many lives would be lost.

I'm staying strong. Pass it on.

I let anger surge through me to dry the tears. I push my self off the floor and start swinging my broom around with force. I picture the armed guards falling before me. The halls I would run down to get free. I would need two ideal escape routes since there is the second and first floor. Heaven knows which door I will get through. Then if a way is blocked I will need branch routes.

A few more days have gone by. The maids are talking about some big party that's happening tonight so the special linens have to be ready before sundown. Then they were complaining about how much cleaning has to be done after this type of party. Near evening they take off with all the linens and I'm alone again. There is one cart of dirty laundry left so I will get that done now since tomorrow this room will be filled. The second floor door clicks and that guard comes in.

Why tonight? Extra guards are needed everywhere because of scandals and people stealing random things. He locks the door behind him. Now that's strange. Only the outside guards are to have keys. My blood is running cold. My instincts are screaming run but I have no were to run. I eye the fire poker and go pretend to stoke the fire and very slowly add logs to it.

He is at the base of the stairs now then he starts slowly walking my way.

"What are you doing?" I ask holding the poker behind my black and white rags of a dress.

"Well since your ruined and no one will say anything. Why not have some fun?" He stumbles a little. "Hic."

This guy's drunk.

"Guards! Help!" I shout frozen in fear.

"I paid them to take a stroll and the party is so loud no one's gonna hear us. So scream. It sounds good." He says smiling, walking towards me.

My mind starts racing. I'm going to live for Rox, with that I'm able to move again. I swing for his gut but he stumbles, I hit him in his chest. He lands flat out on his back on the floor. Maybe I should've held back because he isn't moving.

Is he...? Nope he is breathing. Phew! 

I eye the key and his sword. I guess tonights the night.