The New Girls

The carriage trundled down the gravel drive as the party alighted upon the marble landing. Vivien drew open the ornate wooden door and held it ajar for the matron and the procession of maids. They emerged in to a grand receiving hall, the ceiling of which stretched up beyond the reach of the dim candlelight below. Twisting stairways led to the upper floors, bordered ornately by hand-carved mahogany banisters: a true testament to the feats of Noxian craftsmanship.

Against the backdrop of stately decor, several maids already stood in perfect formation, clad uniformly in sensible black calf-length dresses and spotless white aprons. They faced the new blood, eyes respectfully trained upon the carpet, silent. Matron Edwidge addressed the crowd. "Welcome to Darkbourne Hold, you lucky girls." Her words were kind, but her eyes were cold, her tone harsh, her pale lips taut. "This is a place where order rules, where no missteps will be tolerated, where everything is carried out with perfect precision. You serve the best of the best and you will be the best of the best." She sneered, deepening the creases at the corners of her mouth, concluding, "Or you will suffer the consequences."

Vivien and the other attending maids looked unfazed by the matron's harsh address, but some of the newcomers shifted uneasily where they stood--not that they were unused to the strict standards associated with working in Noxian noble homes, but that this was a responsibility far larger than simple homebound service. This was service to High Command, to the Noxian elite, to the important dignitaries who no doubt frequented the castle as guests. Proper service set the mood for successful negotiations, and poor service hindered political prosperity. The matron's grim address reminded them all of the gravity of their obligations.

Vivien tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, following her superior's warning with her kind, yet firm instruction. "The first day is about learning. You will shadow a partner in silence, every step. Learn our standards, the basic procedures--and do not get in the way. You'll be shown to your room and given your uniform, then you will begin apprenticeship immediately." She turned to the assembled veterans, who still stood in picturesque formation. "Ladies, please select your shadows."

The maids strode forward promptly, in unison, more a military brigade than a gaggle of servants. They began to select their charges, asking simple introductory questions. Where are you from? What is your name? What do you do best? Gradually, the senior maids adhered themselves each to a newcomer.

"What's your name?" a portly woman addressed the grey-eyed girl. "And what do you do?"

"Oh, dear," the portly woman responded. Curiosity had spread over her homely face as Alexis drew out pad and pencil, but as she read the words, she shook her head. "You can't talk? That won't do for kitchen work, I'm sorry." She moved on to the next new maid without further formality.

Gradually, shadows and guides paired together, stood at attention side by side until each new maid had been taken under the wing of a veteran--all but one. Alexis Lindser still stood alone. Vivien quirked a brow and turned to face Matron Edwidge. "We're one off. Did we get an extra in, matron?" she questioned quietly.

"No," the matron sneered. "Yvonne is absent. Giving birth or something like that," she said coldly.

"I see," the lieutenant-matron nodded. Her almond eyes settled over the mute girl, the tattered green dress, the pad and pencil in her hand. "Come here. You can follow me until we figure out where to place you." Her words were strong, but kind as always. Then she clapped her slender hands together and addressed the larger crowd. "All right, ladies. You're dismissed. Be sure your shadows shadow well. Briefing is at five thirty tomorrow morning. Don't be late!"

With this, the pairs began to stride purposefully from the room, up and down the twisting staircases to their respective dormitories. Vivien gave her own charge a half-smile and an encouraging beckon. Then the matron barked, "You don't have time for such things, Vivien."

"We'll manage, matron, I promise," her second responded with a polite curtsy.

The matron huffed and turned to bustle from the room with a final, "You had better," to which Vivien only responded with a nod, still smiling politely.

The matron bustled from the room, her heavy footfalls thump, thump, thumping on the pristine antique rug. Vivien turned to her new charge. She noted the curiosity, the wide eyes, the respectful demeanor. Perhaps the girl was wondering why she stepped in. But restraints of time won out over sympathy and she turned towards a twisting upwards staircase. "Name please?" she asked.

The girl did not audibly respond. Vivien paused upon the first stair and gave her a look, slightly incredulous, yet curious, reserving judgment.

Almond eyes went wide in understanding as they scanned the pad. "Oh!" the matron-lieutenant exclaimed. "I see." She pursed her lips briefly, perhaps wondering if this would inhibit the girl's performance. Then she nodded and turned to continue her climb to the second story. "All right, then, come on. We work the eastern wing. Dinners, parties, respected guests. You'll rise at four every morning to set the dining hall for breakfast, polish and dust. Briefing is at five thirty. Matron Edgwidge or I will run through the day, make mention of any important dignitaries who'll be arriving--we'll receive them. Or any events we need to prepare for."

She scaled the stairs quickly as she spoke, gracefully. Through the hall she walked, the purposeful strides of her long legs carrying her so swiftly along that her charge might need to jog a few steps to catch up. They hurried through the stately halls, turning left and right, until they finally came to a quiet corridor. Vivien pushed open the door to a room with two beds and two small dressers. One side of the room appeared to be occupied, the other vacant. "You'll sleep here," the lieutenant said. "The storage room is down just a bit farther." She shut the door unceremoniously and strode on.

Indeed, a few more doors beyond the bedroom lay a cavernous "closet" in which several maids were already milling about. Rows of uniforms hung along the walls, organized perfectly by size, standard black flats beneath them. Vivien wasted no time in sorting through these. She gave Alexis a calculating once-over before drawing out a suitably sized dress and white apron, pristinely pressed. These, she shoved into the mute girl's arms. "Dress quickly in your bedroom, then meet me back downstairs. We have an important dinner to prepare for tonight."

Vivien stood at the foot of the stairs, shuffling through several sheets of parchment. She smiled and looked up, hearing Alexis' approaching footsteps. "That was quick," she said approvingly. She beckoned the girl after her, taking off almost instantly across the receiving room and through a grand archway into the main hall of the eastern wing.

Again, her pace was brisk, purposeful, and she issued further instructions as they wound past the laden bookshelves, the marble statues, the stately portraits that decorated the palace. "This dinner is very important. Generals. Some champions. Here's a menu. Memorize it. Know what you're serving." She passed one of her sheets of parchment to her shadow.

"I guess the old 'not speaking unless asked to' rule doesn't have much relevance to you," she smiled sweetly, half-joking. "But remember never to look anyone in the face unless directly commanded to do so. Always open wine and pour it at the table. You won't have to carve the boar or anything like that so, let's see. Hmm." She read over her stack as she walked, still keeping her brisk pace, her feet carrying her through the twisted paths by memory. No need to look ahead.

"I won't put you on scullery. I need you to be clean." She stopped dead, so suddenly that if the girl had been following directly behind, there might have been a collision. "Hell, you might as well help me oversee the dining room. I know my girls won't say no to an extra set of hands." She smiled maternally at the girl, deepening the dimples on her cheeks.

Satisfied with her charge's seemingly cheerful acceptance of her lot, Vivien hurried on. Down the labyrinth halls they wove, identical black flats gliding swiftly over lush carpets and polished stone. "You know the proper way to set tables, I assume," the lieutenant-matron's tone grew purposeful as she clarified, visually punctuating her instructions with her hands on an imaginary airborne place-set before her, right to left: "White wine, red wine, water. Soup spoon, tea spoon, dinner knife. Soup bowl, dinner plate. Butter dish and knife--horizontal. Dessert fork, dinner fork, salad fork. Napkin. The girls will show you how we're folding."

As she finished her lecture, the two came before a massive pair of carved mahogany doors, which Vivien drew open. The room beyond held an ornate table, cushioned high-backed chairs, antique rugs, a crystal chandelier and a crowd of maidservants, already hard at work. "Hullo, ma'am," some of them greeted Vivien as she entered.

Vivien clapped her hands together. "All right, girls, listen up. Guests will begin arriving at six PM. Annalise, Sarah, you'll be outside with the receiving party. This is Alexis. She's new, so give her the run down while I brief the kitchen, all right?" With that, Vivien bent to pick up a polishing rag from the bucket on the floor, which she then handed to her charge. "Here. I'll be back soon. Polish the chairs, dust the windowsills." She gave a small smile of encouragement. "Pay attention and you'll do fine."

The matron-lieutenant strode from the room, possessed of her signature brisk purpose, to prepare for that evening, leaving Alexis among her maid-sisters to sort out her role on this new bustling stage...