Rise of Empire

You're sorry for chipping the plate. I'm sorry for chipping the plate. And you're sorry for lying about it. Yes. Edith roughly patted Amelia's burning cheek. That's a good girl. I'll add the cost to your tally. Now, as for punishment... She let go of Amelia's hair and tore the scrub brush from her hand, measuring its weight. She usually used a belt. The brush would hurt more. Edith would drag her to the laundry, where the big cook couldn't see. The head cook had taken a liking to Amelia, and while Edith had every right to discipline her girls, Ibis would not stand for it in his kitchen. Amelia waited for a fat hand to grab her wrist, but instead Edith stroked her head. Such long hair, she said at length. It's your hair that's getting in the way, isn't it? It's making you think too much of yourself. Well, I know just how to fix both problems. You're going to look real pretty when I... The kitchen fell silent. Cora, who had been incessantly plunging her butter churn, paused in mid-stroke. The cooks stopped chopping, and even Nipper, who was stacking wood near the stoves, froze. Amelia followed their gaze to the stairs. A noblewoman, adorned in white velvet and satin, glided down the steps and entered the steamy stench of the scullery. Piercing eyes and razor-thin lips stood out against a powdered face. The woman was tall and, unlike Amelia, who had a hunched posture, stood straight and proud. She moved immediately to the small table along the wall where the baker was preparing bread. Clear this, she ordered with a wave of her hand, speaking to no one in particular. The baker immediately scooped his utensils and dough into his apron and hurried away. Scrub it clean, the lady insisted. Amelia felt the brush thrust back into her hand and a push sent her stumbling forward. She didn't look up and went right to work making large swirls of flour-soaked film. Nipper was beside her in an instant with a bucket, and Vella arrived with a towel. Together they cleared the mess while the woman watched with disdain. Two chairs, the lady barked, and Nipper ran off to fetch them. Uncertain what to do next, Amelia stood in place watching the lady, holding the dripping brush at her side. When the noblewoman caught her staring, Amelia quickly looked down and a movement caught her eye. A small grey mouse froze beneath the baker's table, trying to conceal itself in the shadows. Taking a chance, it snatched a morsel of bread and disappeared through a small crack. What a miserable creature, she heard the lady say. Amelia thought she was referring to the mouse until she added, you're making a filthy puddle on the floor, go away. Before retreating to her washbasin, Amelia tempted a pathetic curtsy. A flurry of orders erupted from the woman, each announced with perfect diction. Vella, Cora, and even Edith went about setting the table as if for a royal banquet. Vella draped a white tablecloth, and Edith started setting out silverware, only to be shooed away as the woman carefully placed each piece herself. Soon the table was elegantly set for two, complete with multiple goblets and linen napkins. Amelia could not imagine who could be dining there. No one would set a table for the servants, and why would a noble come to the kitchen to eat? Here now, what's all this about? Amelia heard the deep familiar voice of Ibis Thinley. The old sea cook was a large, barrel-chested man with bright blue eyes and a thin beard that wreathed the line of his chin. He had spent the morning meeting with farmers, yet he still wore his ever-present apron. The grease-stained wrap was his uniform, his mark of office. He barged into the kitchen like a bear returning to his cave to find mischief afoot. When he spotted the lady, he stopped. I am Lady Constance, the noblewoman informed him. In a moment I will be bringing Empress Modina here. If you are the cook, then prepare food.