What is Hidden (8 page)

Still unsure of how to refill my jug, I tried to watch the other servers to see if they used some kind of signal to call for a refill. Thankfully, no excessively heavy drinkers were sitting in my area, and as I refilled the few glasses that required it, attention stayed away from me, as it should be.

At least, that’s what it looked like. It still felt like someone was watching me, and the hair on the back of my neck pricked, but I couldn’t find the culprit.

By the time my jug emptied, I still hadn’t found a way to signal without drawing unwanted attention. We were well into the main course, and servers filed back and forth like lines of worker ants.

“Pstt,” I tried to hiss at one, but she either ignored me or didn’t hear me and skittered away, and I didn’t dare speak louder. A gentleman’s cup was getting low, and I was starting to worry. Would they dismiss me after something like this? Such a simple thing as not keeping a glass filled? It seemed ridiculous, yet not beyond the realm of possibility.

“Here.”

I jumped as Carese appeared behind me. She whispered
to me and pressed a full jug into my hands. She took the empty one, and I looked at her, incredibly grateful.

“Hey,” I risked a whisper, since we were a bit further back from the tables and those in front of me were heavily involved in conversation. “What do I do when I need a refill? No one told me.”

She looked at me oddly. “You don’t do anything. It’s our job to watch you. Usually there’s one server assigned to each Serving Miss, but since you’re so new, you were overlooked.”

Of course I was.

“I’ll try to keep an eye out on you,” she promised, her eyes gentle, and then she hurried back to the kitchen, empty jug in hand.

That reassured me dramatically. I refilled the dangerously low glass and was able to work throughout the rest of the meal worrying more about keeping cups full than about being banished from the palace before my first day was up.

D
inner wasn’t over once the
food was gone. Even after the last dessert plate was cleared (some still half full with crispy little pastries filled with vanilla cream), the guests continued to drain their goblets, and the entertainment portion of the night began.

The curtain that had been shielding the royal family from view was pulled back, revealing only three of the members in their finery, their veiled masks replaced with a new mask with veiled eyes for the princess and regular full masks for the king and queen.

The prince was gone.

Before I could puzzle together why and how he’d disappeared, the Speaker announced the musicians for the evening: a foreign man and woman whose names I could never pronounce, with stranger sounding names for instruments. Even listening to their introduction felt like listening to a foreign language. All I knew was that the instrument the man held looked like a fat, squat sort of flute and that the woman bowed over what looked like the inside of a piano sitting on the floor.

Once they began to play, though, the language was universal. Again, I had to remind myself not to get lost in my surroundings, and I stepped forward to fill goblets when needed.

It was indescribably refreshing to hear music again, and I instantly lost the resentment that came with the feeling of a never-ending meal. It was a small joy when it felt like my life had none.

Rudely, though, the guests continued to talk through the performance, and judging by the expressions on any given face, this was routine. The serving girls’ faces looked perfectly neutral, and the guests laughed and talked among themselves without a care in the world.

In fact, some of them weren’t paying any attention to the couple performing before them. More than a few men’s attentions had turned to those supplying the meal.

Unfortunately, that included me.

“Look at the eyes on this one!” an old man with a plum-colored mask said, waving his fat arm in my direction. “So green you can almost see apples spilling out!”

I frowned slightly, not understanding the connection between my eyes and fruit, and the man somehow picked up on my confusion through his drunken excitement. “Oh, she doesn’t know! Pretty girl doesn’t know! Look how her pretty mouth pouts behind her veil!”

His shouts of glee caught the attention of a few other serving girls walking around with cheese trays; the girls whispered and dashed into the kitchen, though the guests beside him ignored him.

A moment later, Carese appeared beside me, plucked the jug from my arms, and told me I was wanted in the kitchen.

Even more confused, I obeyed, though I heard groans behind me as she explained she would be taking my place for the remainder of the night.

Once behind the kitchen doors, I was immediately confronted by Jeza, who clucked her tongue at me. “Already making a fool of yourself.”

“What? I did no such thing. I was just standing there like I was supposed to!” I retorted.

“With your eyes wide open for anyone to see!” she rebuked me. “Don’t you know how eyes like yours are seen around here? Why you were chosen to be a Serving Miss?”

When I didn’t answer, she laughed. “You really don’t know, do you? You act like you’re so much better than the rest of us, and yet you know nothing. Green eyes, little Miss Evelina, are a sign of fertility here. I’m sure a smart thing like you can figure out the rest from there. All the serving girls have green eyes. What better to go with a meal than . . .” she trailed off, her voice suggestive, and shrugged.

I shook my head, disbelieving. How had I never heard this before?

“Of course the girls are forbidden from interacting with the guests so above their station in
that
way, but some of the men are . . . playful. They like the . . . potential.” She laughed. “And if that’s not what you want, you’re to keep your eyes
down
.”

“Girls!” Kitchen Mistress Vera’s voice made me jump, and both Jeza and I turned around guiltily. “What are you doing standing around? I’m sure there is more than enough work to keep you occupied.”

“I was just instructing Miss Evelina on some etiquette, Kitchen Mistress,” Jeza replied quickly, her voice soft and
deferential. “She has much to learn about how things are done here.”

“Very well,” Vera said, sighing. “Don’t let it interfere with your own duties, Miss Jeza.”

“Of course, Kitchen Mistress.”

“Now back to work. Miss Evelina, I’ve been informed of your little mishap tonight. Don’t let it happen again. For the rest of the evening, I want you back here, cleaning and polishing the silverware. I’m sure you can manage that without making eyes at anyone.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I was too stunned to do anything but comply.

* * *

When the whole ordeal was over and I was finally dismissed, I collapsed into bed. After I finished with what felt like thousands of salad forks, dinner forks, soup spoons, butter knives, and goodness knew what else, I’d had to pitch in with the dishes. It was a relentless pile of plates, bowls, and trays. My fingers were wrinkled prunes, and my back and feet ached from standing in one place for so long, not to mention the exhaustion I felt from the tension of being watched all night. For someone who was supposed to be invisible, I felt I was as visible as the sun at noonday—especially when the opulent meal loosened the tight discipline of the so-called high-class gentlemen.

It was too late to visit the laundry for blankets, but I was too tired to care. I quickly went through my nightly routine and applied the balm to my burn, which wasn’t hurting as badly anymore, though it still ached and was
tender to the touch. Almost as soon as I had stripped down to my chemise and fell back on my bed, I heard a loud banging on my door. I stared at it curiously for a moment, wondering who on earth would be visiting
me
, and who would be visiting me at such a late hour. Then my heart started to race—what if I’d been discovered as a thief and a fraud and someone was here to turn me out on the streets?

They knocked again, and as much as I wanted to wait them out with the hope they’d give up and go away, I knew if they didn’t confront me now, they’d simply do it in the kitchens in front of everyone.

I picked up my mask from my nightstand and tied it securely before padding my way over to the door. I had no robe, but it was dark, and my chemise was thick enough that it wasn’t like they’d be able to see anything. Maybe it was one of the other servers or Vera, coming to tell me how awful I had been today and that I needed to pack my (nonexistent) bags immediately.

Cautiously, I pulled open the door and peeked out. There, standing in the dim, flickering light, was Aiden.

Completely forgetting myself at the joy of seeing a familiar face, I yanked open the door and ran to throw my arms around him, crying his name.

Aiden seemed to have a similar idea and pulled me tightly to his body in a one-armed hug, the other arm carefully holding a lantern.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “Everyone was talking about the fire at your place. What happened to you? And why are you
here
, of all places?”

I didn’t want to let go of him, even for a moment. To have something familiar after all this upheaval was beyond
words. I rubbed my nose against the fabric of his shirt, breathing in his scent.

“We were attacked. There was a fire. I had to hide.” I could only speak in short, simple sentences, too distracted by how happy I was to see someone I knew, to see
him
.

“But
why
?” he pressed.

I shook my head against his neck. “I can’t tell you everything. Just trust me that I have to hide right now.”

Speaking of which . . .

“How on earth did you find me?” I had to pull back to look in his eyes, absolutely astonished that he’d tracked me down here.

His eyes tightened. “I had to find you. Can you just trust me? You know I’ve always been able to find anyone . . .” he trailed off. “Of course I would find you.”

I looked down, suddenly shy with the tension that had built between us. Then I realized how inappropriately dressed I was and flew away from him, hiding behind my door.

“Sorry! I didn’t even realize . . . I was just so happy to see you,” I babbled incoherently, shutting the door most of the way so I could find something to cover myself with.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He chuckled. “I’m just so happy you’re alive right now. Please don’t send me away.”

“What were you thinking, tracking me down in the middle of the night like this?” I scolded as I quickly pulled my dress on so I could invite him in.

“It was all a matter of when I got my information and when I could get away,” he said.

“Am I ever going to find out how you’re so good at finding people, or are you going to keep that a mystery forever?”

“A man of mystery is far more attractive, don’t you think?”

“No. I’d rather know what I was getting myself into, thank you very much.” I rolled my eyes and gave myself a once-over. “I’m decent, you can come in.”

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking at me seriously. “I’m sure you’ll know one day,” he finally said. “As long as you don’t disappear again, okay? You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, now did I? And he’d been so far from my mind . . . most of the time.

“I’m glad you found me, though,” I confessed. “I was afraid I’d have to resort to having no companions but the stupid girls in the kitchens.”

He winced on my behalf. “They’re that bad?”

“No,” I answered truthfully, “just the ones I’ve met so far, mostly. Except for maybe one girl, everyone seems to have their own agenda.”

“How do you mean?”

I sat on my lumpy bed and motioned for him to sit beside me. I could tell this was going to be a long visit—which was fine by me—and there wasn’t really anywhere else for him to sit. I wasn’t going to make him sit on the
ground
, though the mattress was really only a small improvement.

“Well, as it was my first day here, you can imagine that I had no idea what was going on. I was afraid I was going to make a fool of myself because no one really explained what to do.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. A noble dining hall is a bit of a circus, isn’t it?”

“Which reminds me, on top of all of
that
, someone kept staring at me all through dinner, and I couldn’t tell who. And—” As I was about to say something about the prince looking at me, I realized how self-absorbed that sounded. And a bit ridiculous. He was behind a curtain after all. And, you know, a prince.

“And?” he prompted.

“And I don’t know. It was just different.”

“Yeah. I wish I could’ve helped you somehow.”

“Me too. Though I’m pretty sure you couldn’t have. Only girls are allowed as servers, and I think you’d stick out a bit.”

He made a face at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, it felt good to laugh. “You think?”

“Seriously, though,” I went back to his original question, “it seems like there’s some kind of hierarchy within the servants, and my being here throws it off. I don’t know. I’m probably just being paranoid.”