Flight of the cardinal

The sound of keys jingling and the lock clicking made my heart beat faster as I knew it was the start of another long and gruelling day. The hauntingly black figure of the head maid appeared in the dimly lit room of my quarters. She threw a charred piece of bread at the foot of my bed, which was to serve as my breakfast for the day. It was a bleak reminder of my position as a maid in High Hill Estate.

The mansion was currently home to Duke Kestrel and his family, who were relocated there after the uprising that occurred a decade ago. They were tasked with governing the capital of Airedah—Seagull’s Bay. The maids’ and servants’ quarters were located in the north wing, far away from the luxurious surroundings of the duke’s family chambers.

I quickly grabbed the bread, eager to avoid attracting any rats that might be lurking nearby, and immediately ate it to quell the hunger pangs in my stomach. I knew that any leftover scraps from the duke’s breakfast would be my only hope of sustenance for the day.

In the year I had been sold here, my days began at an unfaithly hour of three in the morning, and that small piece of bread would have to sustain me until the next time I could eat. I tried to savour it, but my hunger got the better of me, and I wolfed it down in a hurry.

I then reached for my black maid’s garment, which hung on a small wooden peg near my bed. The dress was enormous, but the lacing on the front made it easy to adjust to my frame. As I slid my toned arms into the sleeves, I smoothed out any wrinkles over my stomach and chest, preparing myself mentally for another arduous day of work.

“Ida, hurry up!” called the head maid impatiently from the hallway’s gloom.

I could see the other servants and maids passing by my open door, their black silhouettes blending into the darkness. The head maid looked at me with her usual displeased expression. I was probably the most annoying one out of all the servants and maids she had to keep in check. It wasn’t my fault, though; I wasn’t born into this life of indentured servitude, and the system was unfortunately rigged. Once you neared the end of your indenture somewhere, they would sell you to another home, and you’d have to restart your contract with your new owner and work until you had repaid your value. It was a way the rich and powerful had to keep us as slaves.

I had been living this way for almost a decade now, and it was a constant struggle for me to be compliant. Old habits died hard, and I often found myself slipping back into my old ways—being stubborn and forgetting my place.

I pulled my white apron over my tousled hair and deftly tied it on my back. As I made my way toward the door, I slipped my feet into my thin leather work boots. Then, I hid my red hair under a bonnet.

Although it wasn’t uncommon to have red hair, it left people with unsettling feelings because all Cardinal descendants had red hair. In this new era, having fiery red hair wasn’t considered lucky. The late King Cardinal and his predecessors reigned for well over five hundred years over Airedah, and all of them had bright red heads in the paintings I had seen. The new king would have destroyed most of them by now, though.

Since my hair was that unfortunate colour, I tried to hide it as much as possible under any headwear I could find. If I had to wear a cap, I used a mix of ground coffee and tinctures to colour my hair a dirty brown. It wasn’t the best solution, but it worked, and it helped me blend in with the rest of the people. They had whipped me frequently in my past indentures just for having that hair colour. Anything remotely red was now forbidden—a painful reminder for anyone still loyal to the old crown.

I stepped inside the hallway, closed the door behind me with a sense of urgency, and quickly made my way to join the other maids. We gathered near the kitchen quarters, where we were informed about our work schedule for the day. The supervisors assigned us to various areas based on our expertise and experience. Some of us were sent to the scullery or kitchen, while others were assigned to the laundry or the main lobby.

As one of the more attractive maids, I usually got assigned to the parlours or living quarters where the lords and ladies resided. They always sent the nicer one with a pretty face and all their teeth to better blend with higher society.

“Ida and Maud, you two are tending the young lord’s floor today. No one else is available to do it,” the head maid disdainfully said. We had not been her first choices. “He will be entertaining lady guests, so ensure everything is spotless and his guests are well received. I will send you some kitchen maids around teatime.”

I rolled my eyes. The young lord was probably inviting single ladies again, hoping to find a wife. I had heard that this was a common occurrence. After all, he was indeed a wealthy and very eligible bachelor.

The duke’s son, Alexander, was a complete mystery to me. Although I hadn’t met him in the last year, I already had an inexplicable fear of him. Rumour had it that he was an incredibly intimidating man, who despised the presence of maids in his quarters. His floor was strictly off-limits to us, except on special occasions like the one we were to prepare for. But getting maids to stay on his floor or accept to return again seemed difficult.

I looked at Maud, and saw the same uneasiness in her eyes. It was a relief to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling this way. However, I had never worked on Lord Alexander’s floor before and didn’t know what to expect. I knew that Maud had worked there twice, so I felt somewhat reassured that I could follow her lead and avoid any potential missteps.

I approached the front, where the head maid was standing, holding out a key for me. I took the key from her, and I realized that it was the master key for the young lord’s floor. As I examined it, I heard Maud scuffling behind me, grabbing other necessities that we would need for our task. However, before I could make my way to the servant’s stairs, the head maid grabbed my wrist firmly. With a serious expression, she warned, “Don’t enter the room with the carved wood door.” She emphasized that it was strictly off-limits, and any disobedience would result in severe consequences.

Her eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I immediately understood the gravity of what she was saying. I knew I had to behave, as my curiosity had gotten the better of me the previous week and earned me five painful lashes on my backside. The thought of it made me wince, and I quickly nodded my agreement before heading toward the servant’s stairs with the key in hand.

After Maud and I gathered all our supplies, I pushed open the heavy door leading to the fourth floor, and I felt a sense of anxiety wash over me. We stepped out into a spacious hallway dimly lit by a few flickering candles. The door closed noiselessly behind us, and I made sure to secure it firmly against the wall. The door to the servant’s stairs was hidden behind an enormous painting, making it a seamless part of the corridor. It was easy to miss if you didn’t know what to look for, but it made moving through rooms or floors easier for us without being detected—which was important in our line of work. We had to work fast and not be seen.

Just like shadows, I thought.

Maud pointed toward a direction, and I understood that she wanted me to focus on that section. We moved quickly, clearing the hearth and lighting fires in all the main rooms. The winter chill was biting, and I knew that having friendly fires in the foyers would do wonders for all the ladies gathering here soon.

As I watched the flames dance in the hearth, my mind drifted off. I used to love sitting near my fireplace to read a good book. Faiths, it had been ages since I had done anything remotely leisurely for myself. These last ten years had been hard on me.

I had not yet seen the young lord and kept thinking I would go into a room, and I would disturb him, but he was nowhere to be found. It seemed he had left early to begin his busy day, or he was still asleep in another section than my own. I wasn’t too keen on meeting him, particularly with all the gossip I had heard about him.

I didn’t want to overstay my welcome, so I headed toward one of the main reception areas. It was a spacious room with high ceilings, adorned with chandeliers and beautiful paintings on the walls. The furniture was grand and elegant, but it seemed to have collected some dust over time.

I rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath, and began to dust and polish every piece of furniture in the room. As I was working, I caught sight of a magnificent carved wooden door in the hallway. It was stunning, to say the least, with intricate carvings etched into the hard oak that comprised its massive slab. The door was so impressive that I couldn’t help but wonder how someone would be able to push it open. It must weigh a significant amount.

I suddenly heard the massive chamber door creak open. To my surprise, a small boy dressed as a footman and a tall man stepped out. The man was wearing nothing but his night trousers. I quickly averted my gaze and pressed myself against the parlour wall, trying to hide my embarrassment. Despite my efforts to be unseen, I noticed the grin on his face as he walked past.

Although it wasn’t uncommon for the residents of the estate to walk around partially undressed in their assigned areas, they were usually quite shy and kept themselves appropriately dressed. However, this man seemed to have no qualms about displaying his bare torso for all to see.

I tried to hide the growing redness of my cheeks. Once he was out of sight, I returned to my work of fluffing pillows and straightening the paintings, trying to distract myself from what had happened.

But as I went about my work, I couldn’t help but notice that the door from which the man had emerged was still partially open. With my curiosity growing, I wondered what could be inside. Technically, I knew I wasn’t allowed to open the door or enter the room, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a quick peek. As long as I didn’t break any rules or disturb anything, I thought it would be okay to satisfy my interest.

“Loophole,” I snickered to myself. Good thing there was a painting that needed “dusting” right beside the door.

I walked across the hallway, and the plush carpet underneath my feet muffled the sound of my steps. I approached the door and cautiously peered inside, feeling my curiosity drop and a sense of unease wash over me. The room was pitch black, and the absence of windows struck me as odd. It was as if the room didn’t want to be seen from the outside.

As I stood there, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness, I suddenly caught a whiff of something pungent and metallic in the air. It was a combination of blood, rust, and sweat, and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that the room was trying to warn me of something.