me
misplacing a word on a test is gonna change how I scrub
floors!”
All at once Kahlie gasped and her eyes
widened. “I don't mean . . . I don't enjoy . . . it's not that I .
. . I,” she stammered.
Gracielle smiled. “It's okay, Kahlie. I'll
speak to Tur Helene.” She held out her hand and Kahlie took it. “A
young woman at your age must have her beauty sleep. Studies can
wait until tomorrow.”
Kahlie giggled and nodded.
Just then, Jonathan peeked around the corner
of the door. He smiled lovingly at Gracielle and walked across the
room to her bed, pausing just long enough to tousle Kahlie’s bright
red curls as he passed.
“Hello, Milady,” he greeted. “You've been
taking good care of our new atoh, I hope?”
“Oh . . . oh yes sir,” she answered
nervously, “that's what I do best.” Kahlie really liked both Ator
Gracielle and Atoc Jonathan, but she was far more comfortable with
Gracielle. Jonathan made her very uneasy.
She had only been at the palace for a few
short weeks, and was told in the beginning that she had been
brought to the palace to be a kitchen maid, not to fulfill the most
sought after position a servant could acquire.
But one day, when she was cleaning in the
main dining hall, her constant clumsiness finally paid off.
She had just finished wiping down what she
counted to be forty-eight wooden chairs when Gracielle and her
former Companion Servant, Dedri, happened into the room.
Kahlie almost fell over when she saw the
ator, and bowed nervously before her.
Gracielle signaled for her to stand, smiled
warmly and said, “Hello, young lady. I don't believe we've met.
You're new here, aren't you?”
Kahlie nodded and sputtered, “Y . . . yes,
ma'am.” She had heard that Gracielle was very kind, but didn’t
expect her to treat such a young, lowly servant with so much
respect and affability.
Gracielle continued, “I'm Gracielle and this
is Dedri—my companion servant . . . and you are?”
“Kahlie, ma'am,” she answered timidly.
“Well, welcome, Kahlie. It’s a pleasure to
meet you. Please don't let us bother you. We just have a few things
to discuss.”
Kahlie thought that Gracielle was the
loveliest woman she'd ever seen. And that Dedri—with her squinty
gray eyes, yellowish skin and very short, mousy brown hair—was one
of the most frightening. She fantasized that Gracielle was an angel
who'd been captured by the evil Matron of Doom, (Dedri), and that
she, (Kahlie the Avenger), had been sent to save her with magical
objects she'd produce from the Sorcerer's Cloth, (dust rag).
She tried to appear focused on polishing the
long buffet table, but was really straining to hear what was being
said by the beautiful Gracielle, who was speaking firmly to Dedri
about something that had been neglected.
Ha! She knows who you are
Matron. When she realizes who I am, you will meet your
demise! Kahlie was so lost in her
daydream, that she didn't notice that she had left one of the
dining chairs slightly pulled out from the table. As she turned to
walk to the other side of the buffet, her foot caught on a
protruding leg and she tripped—stumbling across the room and
smacking right into the companion servant—knocking both Dedri and
herself to the ground.
“You clumsy brat!” Dedri shouted. She jumped
up, yanked Kahlie to her feet, and slapped her hard across the
face. “You could have hurt the ator!” She raised her hand again,
but Gracielle grabbed it in mid-air.
“How dare you?” Gracielle seethed. “She is just a child and it .
. . it was an accident!”
“She could have injured you or the baby,”
the servant argued.
“But she didn't!” Gracielle was livid. She
was still clutching Dedri's arm and holding it high in the air.
“Dedri, I have never seen such outrageous behavior in my life,” she
scolded as she dropped Dedri's arm and pointed toward the door.
“You are dismissed! Pack up your things and leave this palace
immediately!”
“But, Ator,” Dedri
misplacing a word on a test is gonna change how I scrub
floors!”
All at once Kahlie gasped and her eyes
widened. “I don't mean . . . I don't enjoy . . . it's not that I .
. . I,” she stammered.
Gracielle smiled. “It's okay, Kahlie. I'll
speak to Tur Helene.” She held out her hand and Kahlie took it. “A
young woman at your age must have her beauty sleep. Studies can
wait until tomorrow.”
Kahlie giggled and nodded.
Just then, Jonathan peeked around the corner
of the door. He smiled lovingly at Gracielle and walked across the
room to her bed, pausing just long enough to tousle Kahlie’s bright
red curls as he passed.
“Hello, Milady,” he greeted. “You've been
taking good care of our new atoh, I hope?”
“Oh . . . oh yes sir,” she answered
nervously, “that's what I do best.” Kahlie really liked both Ator
Gracielle and Atoc Jonathan, but she was far more comfortable with
Gracielle. Jonathan made her very uneasy.
She had only been at the palace for a few
short weeks, and was told in the beginning that she had been
brought to the palace to be a kitchen maid, not to fulfill the most
sought after position a servant could acquire.
But one day, when she was cleaning in the
main dining hall, her constant clumsiness finally paid off.
She had just finished wiping down what she
counted to be forty-eight wooden chairs when Gracielle and her
former Companion Servant, Dedri, happened into the room.
Kahlie almost fell over when she saw the
ator, and bowed nervously before her.
Gracielle signaled for her to stand, smiled
warmly and said, “Hello, young lady. I don't believe we've met.
You're new here, aren't you?”
Kahlie nodded and sputtered, “Y . . . yes,
ma'am.” She had heard that Gracielle was very kind, but didn’t
expect her to treat such a young, lowly servant with so much
respect and affability.
Gracielle continued, “I'm Gracielle and this
is Dedri—my companion servant . . . and you are?”
“Kahlie, ma'am,” she answered timidly.
“Well, welcome, Kahlie. It’s a pleasure to
meet you. Please don't let us bother you. We just have a few things
to discuss.”
Kahlie thought that Gracielle was the
loveliest woman she'd ever seen. And that Dedri—with her squinty
gray eyes, yellowish skin and very short, mousy brown hair—was one
of the most frightening. She fantasized that Gracielle was an angel
who'd been captured by the evil Matron of Doom, (Dedri), and that
she, (Kahlie the Avenger), had been sent to save her with magical
objects she'd produce from the Sorcerer's Cloth, (dust rag).
She tried to appear focused on polishing the
long buffet table, but was really straining to hear what was being
said by the beautiful Gracielle, who was speaking firmly to Dedri
about something that had been neglected.
Ha! She knows who you are
Matron. When she realizes who I am, you will meet your
demise! Kahlie was so lost in her
daydream, that she didn't notice that she had left one of the
dining chairs slightly pulled out from the table. As she turned to
walk to the other side of the buffet, her foot caught on a
protruding leg and she tripped—stumbling across the room and
smacking right into the companion servant—knocking both Dedri and
herself to the ground.
“You clumsy brat!” Dedri shouted. She jumped
up, yanked Kahlie to her feet, and slapped her hard across the
face. “You could have hurt the ator!” She raised her hand again,
but Gracielle grabbed it in mid-air.
“How dare you?” Gracielle seethed. “She is just a child and it .
. . it was an accident!”
“She could have injured you or the baby,”
the servant argued.
“But she didn't!” Gracielle was livid. She
was still clutching Dedri's arm and holding it high in the air.
“Dedri, I have never seen such outrageous behavior in my life,” she
scolded as she dropped Dedri's arm and pointed toward the door.
“You are dismissed! Pack up your things and leave this palace
immediately!”
“But, Ator,” Dedri
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