Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
It was far too tempting to gawk and dawdle, but I was here for a reason. I did not know if I was being watched. I was not a child. I was here to work. I shook myself mentally and forged ahead.
I straighten my posture and walked briskly as I turned yet another corner. I knew I was in the right place immediately. I saw people coming and going from a broad courtyard between the left wing of the house and another wing, extending towards the back.
I was wrong about the house looking like a castle. From the back, it looked like a museum. Or a university. Formal, extravagant, and far too big for mere mortals to occupy.
At least there were humans here. Seeing servants at work was reassuring. A distraction from my tumultuous thoughts. It was hustle and bustle back here, unlike the quiet stateliness of the rest of the estate.
This was the heart of the house, I could tell. It pumped blood, or rather, food, cleaning supplies, and the people to wield it, into the rest of the giant beast. House was the wrong word, again. This place was a small nation.
I stood there, feeling out of place, until a tall man in a well-cut black suit approached me.
“Hello. You must be Mishka. Please, come inside.”
I blinked, surprised to be recognized. Though I was probably the only unknown person, I realized, remembering the security. Of course he had been waiting for me.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“I am Linski. I run Anton’s household.”
I nodded, resisting the urge to curtsy or bow. The man was nearly as intimidating as his master. Linski gestured that I should follow him and proceed to show me around a massive lower-level warren of hallways and utility spaces. It was massive. Utilitarian, but pleasing to the eye.
The kitchen alone was big enough for a large restaurant, but much more elegant, with hardwood cabinets, marble counters, and the latest in technology. There were at least two stoves, I realized as I passed through. Everywhere I looked there were men and women in uniforms, heading somewhere, or doing something. It was a hive of industriousness, to say the least.
Linski led me up the stairs to beautiful wide hallway. At the end there was a set of heavy metal double doors with a security pad. He entered a code, careful to keep me from seeing it. I averted my eyes out of courtesy.
“You will be sticking to this wing of the estate, so you don’t need the code.”
“Wing?”
“Yes, each of the brothers has their own household, though some services are shared in the center of the house, such as the kitchens for formal events and guests, security, the main library, guest quarters, and ballroom. It is unlikely you will need to come this way, but I will show you the main floor.”
He gave me a brief tour of the older portion of the estate before heading back to Anton’s wing. He entered the code again, and the door swung open on a silent motor. He gestured to me. I stepped through, back in the beautiful hallway, with an endless deep pile carpet, artwork, side tables with lamps, and elegant sconces.
There were no windows, I realized. No daylight. It could have been midnight, not the beginning of the day.
The door shut behind us and I jumped. Like the gate, there was a finality to the sound of it. I was to live, work, and eat in this part of the house, it seemed.
I wondered if there was any way out.
Don’t be silly, Mischka. It’s a mansion, not a prison. I am sure there are entrances and exits everywhere.
But somehow, I wasn’t so sure. Something about this place felt like a trap. A trap I had no choice but to step into.
A mouse willingly taking the cheese, knowing that their freedom was the price she would pay.
“It is best to stick to these areas, miss. Do not go wandering,” he said with a stern look, pointing to a laminated map that he handed to me as we strode through the maze that was ‘Anton’s wing’.
“You are an above stairs maid. That means serving meals, bringing drinks, and snacks, fetching newspapers and slippers. Generally being available to serve at a moment’s notice. Nothing too strenuous, I’m told. I hear you have a talent that must be protected,” he added, giving my fingers an odd look.
I was given yet another tour of the above stairs portion of the wing, with instructions that took several hours. The journey itself had taken longer than I expected. After I was fitted for my uniform and fed, I was finally shown to a beautiful room.
It was bigger than the entire apartment I shared with papa above the candy shop. It was new, but built to look old, with a stone fireplace, ornate mantel, massive four poster bed, and two chairs facing a window seat in a massive dormer. I imagined sitting there would feel like you were outside, floating on air. I could not wait to try it, though I was sure servant’s were not supposed to sit down.