Sophie dropped the rag into the dirty water inside the bucket and wiped off the sweat from her forehead, straightening her back a little. Georgina, one of the older servants had given her such a thorough talk yesterday that she couldn't help feeling slightly apprehensive about the next chores she'd have to do that day.

It had been only two weeks since her life had changed the way it did, everything that had happened in her life so far had never compared to the strangeness of the change she was experiencing. She had been handed a white apron and a headkerchief, instructed to keep clean and tidy at all times and had been given chores in the kitchen and in places that had no straight connection with the nobles.

The other maidservants were pleasant girls, if not mostly dull and dim-witted, but some of them were nice creatures, with hearty smiles and friendly talk, they seemed to look out for her with a kind of sympathy, they had all been new once.

She shared a room with three other maids, all of them around her age. On the first night she couldn't help but notice one of the girls, a bright-eyed girl, sitting in the corner with a gloomy expression, her pregnant belly showing that it would be any day now…

Cecily, one of the girls who was Sophie's first friend gossiped about that girl as they stood in the kitchen, washing out the beautiful dishes from the evening feast, "Dear Belle, poor girl she is, that type of thing happens more often than no' round ere." She sighed. "Aye, we all pretend that the father must'a be one of the male-servants, to the Nobs it'd seem that that could'a happen, aye, and if yeh didn' know what it's like bein' ere, you'd'a thought this were true, but alas alas for them poor girls that'd caught a Nob's interest. I'm lucky I ain't none special to look at, but you lass, you be careful, aye? It's no good fortune for a girl to get a-mixed up in them Nobby affairs."

Cecily had went on telling that these girls never stayed for long after they had their baby, they were usually gotten rid of to prevent a reputation getting destroyed or cover up an unwanted blemish. The worst was when the wife or mistress got involved; women were always the cruelest enemies.

"Y'see, we're even lower'n them Mistresses that Lords have, we're servants, see? If a Lord wants us in his bed, we might as well lose all hope, there's no knowin' what they'll do to a girl as refuses."

Sophie had no romantic thoughts about some rich Lord falling in love with her and making her his Lady and taking her away from the harsh life she led, she was cynical enough to know that these kind of things never happened and the more time she spent working in the castle, the more she realized that a Lord's love meant disaster and could only lead to utter ruin.

And then Georgina had done her best to prepare Sophie. "Tomorrow I want you polishing all the brass handles in the main part of the castle." That sentence had made the bottom of her stomach fall off. "So, if anyone above your class speaks to you, I want to make sure you know how to reply."

Sophie couldn't speak, so she simply nodded. Georgina's face was so wrinkled that it looked like a dry plum, she looked pityingly at Sophie. "The rules aren't so hard and you're a bright girl so you should do alright if you just stick to the basics. First thing, what do you say when a Lord or Lady addresses you?"

"Aye MiLady?" Sophie tried.

Georgina shook her head smiling slightly, as if she had been expecting that mistake. "No, not "aye", you must answer in proper language, no Lord or Lady wishes to hear language off the street, you must treat them carefully and realize that if you don't speak nicely they'll get upset, they have extremely delicate ears." She waited to see if Sophie understood before continuing.

"Now, if a member of the Nobility asks you a question, the answers should either be "Yes my Lord", or "No my Lord", if they ask you a question that requires a longer answer or an answer that requires not a simple "yes" nor a "no" then you must say "Lord" at the beginning and the end of your answer." She examined Sophie, looking mildly worried.

"You'll have to keep your head down, girl, to avoid unnecessary attention; you don't want your conversations with the Nobility to be longer than needed. Don't look them in the eye, mind, just stare at your feet and you should be all right."

And so that had been tomorrow, and the fatal day hurried to arrive. Sophie felt apprehensive, like a mere mortal about to speak to God. She calmed herself a little by reasoning that no Noble should even spot her; it didn't have to happen, did it?

After cleaning the kitchen floor she washed her face and hands, put on a clean apron, tried to tidy up her disobedient red locks and hide them under the headkerchief, though truly those curls of hers were so eager to escape any binding.

She was handed a special rag that was rough on one end and soft on the other and a foul-smelling substance that they used to polish brass. "Don't let that stuff touch your hands." The maid who handed them over warned, she lifted one of her own hands to show Sophie the burn scars.

And so, just like that, Sophie made her way to the part of the castle inhabited by the Nobles. She tried to pass through like a shadow, going left and right and up some flight of stairs, following the directions Georgina had given her until she was absolutely and utterly lost. She walked down the same corridor five or six times before she realized that she had already seen the paintings on the wall before.

She sighed, stopped and turned, trying to retrace her steps toward the servant's quarters and in the process finding herself even more lost than before. The prospect of being lost was embarrassing for Sophie who had always seemed to find her way around anywhere. She promptly blamed the castle for being so confusing and was slowly growing angrier and angrier with it.

What seemed like a million years passed when she found herself again, for the seventh time in that corridor with the large painting of a gloomy looking lady in it. She was severely annoyed now, "How absurd! This is rubbish!" she exclaimed.

The whole time she had been wandering around with a bucket filled with foul-smelling brass-cleaner in one hand and the special polish rag in the other. She had walked a great deal now and her legs were tired – she made it up in her mind that it wouldn't do any harm if she just sat for a moment, leaning her back against the wall and regained her wits.

Luckily, she never got around to sitting down; she just placed the bucket on the floor when suddenly she heard footsteps coming from the far end of the corridor. She turned to gaze at the approaching person hoping against hope that it would be another servant, but of course, with her luck, it wasn't.