The Queen's Handmaiden

The grandfather clock was a pinnacle of our kingdom’s architecture, Erect in the town square for visitors to marvel at the magnificent construct. A fascination to those who came from lands whose monuments were either lacking in comparison or non-existent entirely.

It was a mere pain for those who were to rise at the crack of dawn, however, Every morning I toss and turn as the bells chime through our open window in the handmaid's quarters. Lie-ins were a foreign concept to us though I loathe any reminder that I cannot rest forever still I prop myself using my elbows and swing myself out of bed to stagger to the faucet in the hallway before my fellow handmaids could beat me to it.

I am the Queen’s Handmaiden. Well, one of four: a secretary to accompany her to meetings and gatherings, a guard to serve as her protection, a dressmaker to take care of her physical appearance and the principal handmaiden who did all of the above and more. That is my task. Appointed upon her coronation and the only one sworn to serve her for a lifetime. I follow wherever she goes lest she personally requests that I am not needed [This is very much to the king’s dismay] and her de facto court on all personal matters.

The early morning walk through the palace is a task that is silent as the rest of the world surrounding me is still awakening. It was a dry morning and when another early riser rounded the corner and pulled back the curtains the sun unleashed its humidity upon the hall. The robe we handmaidens must wear is ill-suited for this weather but we grow accustomed to it though when the rain comes it does bring some relief!.

The royal kitchens are already bustling by the time I enter and no one turns to greet me. I am just another servant, after all, only the head chef acknowledges me to hand me the queen’s breakfast tray before returning her attention to the sizzling bacon being prepared for the soldiers, bringing her knife down swiftly with rapt concentration.

On my way out I almost collided with none other than His Majesty. The apology I began to stutter out conflicted with my curiosity as to what the king would be doing down this end of the palace so early. I have an inkling but I dare not voice it as he brushes past me into the kitchens, looking back at me with suspicion.

I make my way to my queen’s bed-chamber, the palace becoming alive as I pass through as the nobles residing overnight start to gather for their early morning gossip. No doubt talking vile lies about my queen behind her back yet will gladly praise her to her face, Such self-centered blights! I find myself gripping the tray tightly and I must mask my anger. Yet I know I will never tolerate any ill-speaking of my queen who has served us better than we deserve.

Arriving at Her Majesty’s bed-chamber I knock and await my signal to enter. Then I bring forward the breakfast and place it beside the newspapers and files laid out in the sitting room. As Fife the dressmaker is normally at the queen’s side during this time in the dawn, I prepare to leave to take my chores and my own morning meal.

But then her Highness calls my name.

“Eada?”

The curtains have drawn back and she is sitting up in bed, visibly dressed in her silk nightgown with her long raven hair a mess due to the early hour. Her eyes were shadowed with tiredness and she wore the grimace she always bore at this time but I could not take my eyes off her.

We handmaidens become used to being referred to as simply “Handmaiden” by so many others but our lady queen always made an effort to remember our names.

“Fife has come down with the pox” she shared “Will..will you aid me this morning?”

“At once my lady.”

I serve her breakfast as well as her morning newspapers and set to work laying out her clothing for the day. She speaks little to me but watches me as I do so, perhaps praying that I do not notice the dark circles beneath her eyes or the cold empty space beside her. I notice but I know better than to question and the shadows do nothing to undermine her beauty.

Once the Queen is ready I follow behind her to the throne room to stand obediently by her side as she and the King listen to reports from advisors and nobles alike before offering their advice and directions. Her Majesty remains patient the entire time quickly providing possible solutions to the problems presented while her consort fidgets and cranes his head to get a better look at the young beautiful secretary in the corner with little propriety.

Once the session is at an end it is already time for the midday meal. The only noise echoing throughout the room was the rustling of knives and forks, for the king and queen sat in stony silence with scarcely a glance in the other’s direction. I long to fill the silence or at least offer my queen a smile but instead, I keep my head down and continue serving the lunch.

As the table is cleared the queen decides to take an afternoon walk, requesting that I take a break for the afternoon. Whilst I am grateful the afternoon proves uneventful, I simply take my midday meal and sit by myself in the courtyard until the time comes for me to aid the servants in carrying garments from the palace treasure rooms for the evening meal.

As Fife is bedridden I aid my Queen with her evening gown, turning away to give her privacy once she is as naked as a newborn baby and aiding her with her makeup and jewels. While I am at my queen’s side when we enter the dining hall I am soon separated from her as she is seated beside the king and I find myself wedged in beside the representative of a neighboring kingdom.

The man tries to engage me in conversation but I find myself only able to give one-worded answers before he returns to boasting. I push my dinner around my plate counting the seconds in my head, I do not care for this man’s king nor his power and I certainly have no desire to join him in his room this evening! In fact when he makes this proposition I forget all I was taught about etiquette and obedience and excuse myself without warning.

I seek privacy on the balcony where I can feel the late night breeze in my hair and take time to think to myself. I find myself alone for only a few minutes before I hear footsteps behind me. Though I turn prepared to ward away my lecherous suitor from earlier, I instead come face to face with my queen. Her eyes are not focused upon me but rather down at something in the courtyard. I follow her gaze to the alcove by the pond where His Majesty is seated with Eri, my fellow handmaiden and the queen’s secretary...and they look a little too close for casual conversation.

Rage bubbles into my head at their disrespect and lack of shame but her Highness seems resigned to the scene before her. If she has any tears to shed she will not let either of those treacherous snakes bear witness to them. Or any members of her court.

That evening she requests I stay with her to keep watch over her and her bedpan. A tummy upset is the excuse she provides my fellow handmaidens but I know the true reason she wishes to not be alone. Though His Majesty will most likely not be visiting her tonight.

In truth, it feels like we are not Queen and servant at all but companions. I lie close enough to hear every sniffle and feel the pillows become wet with tears but I will not complain.

“You are the only one I can share this with” she confessed to me, our heads resting on the satin pillows. My hair has come undone from the bun I normally keep and her fingers run through it as she whispers. “I should not feel anger at this, for I cannot cease to love him if I never did”.

“Fidelity is still sheer decency m’lady, he should not treat you so,” I tell her.

She nods at this, her eyes sliding slightly out of focus “Did your parents remain faithful to each other?”

“I do not know milady” and I truly didn’t. The last time I had seen my family was when I was ten years old and they ordered me to go to the palace to look for work, saving them from having too many mouths to feed.

Her eyes meet mine and I feel her nestle closer to me. “Is there a special companion in your life?” She teased me with a little smile.

Initially, I intended to deny this but I made the mistake of meeting her sparkling eyes again and at that moment I know that she knows. I feared the worst might follow my silent confession and I closed my eyes in preparation for my dismissal. Instead, I felt her breath hitch against my neck and I opened my eyes to see a small smile on her face. And the silent reassurance that came with it.

For the briefest of moments, our lips pressed together and a great warmth envelops me as I relax and slide my palms across her cheeks. Breaking apart, I feel the heat on my cheeks as I confess.

“It’s you..it’s always been you, my lady”

“Please..call me Odelyn.”

THE END.