Somewhere Someplace

Dark yet gloomily lit by the rays of reflected lunar light, which pierced through the open window. Cold nightly air gusted through in kind, the curtains gently blowing. It was rather warm and clustered in this dorm room, and thus a fellow peer had left the window open this night… Though, now it felt too cold…at least for Blossom, who preferred cozy warmth.

Indeed, Blossom’s tired eyes were still wide-open. She was staring up at the ceiling above as she laid in bed. Sometimes she wondered if that ceiling was taunting her… A strange thought, indeed, yet…right now, it felt as though it was watching her.

Such was…a reoccurring pattern lately. Every now and then, something deep down within her would be struck with this vague…shadowy-masked…feeling or…sensation…or something that she was being observed or…spectated—she could not describe it, only experience it…

However, such was obviously…just a product of her sleep-deprived head and was not the reason for why she was having difficulty with sleeping. This night, as with the one’s before, her mind was…simply too preoccupied.

It was now a little over a week into the ninth month of this year. And although this month of Autumn’s Eve—as with the other three like it—was to be relatively short, being merely twenty-three days and ending at or near the equinox, it already felt as though it was going to be a small month of many happenings.

Several maids, including the one in charge of her group of juniors, had…separated ways from this house the day after Summer’s end; retired, quit, fired, maybe impregnated and exiled… Blossom had not any the clue. All she knew was that…as result of this, many junior maids who had proven to be exceptionally talented and fast-learning…were promoted to proper maids despite their having only been here for a relatively short time; they were thus granted…more independence relative to juniors.

Blossom was not one of them; in fact, it felt like she was…quite the opposite. Miranda, on the other hand, was one of them… She was no longer in her group of juniors, despite having been…the reason Blossom had chosen…this group to begin with… At least, they still habitated the same sleeping quarters—for now, at least.

Yet nevertheless, ever since that promotion not-so-long ago, Blossom was barely speaking with Miranda as often as they used to… She had hardly been able to see her, in fact…

“Mmm…” Blossom faintly grumbled… “Why did they even promote them so quickly… ‘Months-long training’ or… Beh, favoritism…” her breaths quietly muttered.

She sat herself up, her eyes peering at Miranda’s bed…

To not her surprise, it was empty—yet another common pattern lately: Miranda was barely ever showing up at night. No doubt, she had probably…shifted to night duties. Miranda was always someone who…seemed to prefer night more than she did day.

Indeed, for Blossom such was…rational and obvious. Miranda had more liberties now to tune her schedule and duties, and she was well-liked enough to be given…additional leniencies; it was obvious that she would thus select night duties since she liked the night so.

Though, such only made Blossom ponder… “When does she even sleep? Mmm…” Indeed, even by dawn Miranda was still absent; she was hardly there for morning and evening meals either…

Blossom sighed…

Yet the other promoted fellows have been seemingly making efforts to linger with their, now former, junior groups—to provide help, though mainly to remain with their friends.

Miranda was her friend… And Blossom could not help but feel that…it was a little inconsiderate…of her friend to…just…not make effort to find time to at least…talk with her during those moments where they actually would be able to.

And it was not like Miranda had dematerialized… Blossom had heard the others talk about her, about having mingled with and befriended her; so, she was still around, befriending others, speaking to others… but not to Blossom herself.

She felt…somewhat…abandoned, truth be told; maybe… Miranda was avoiding her… Such would make sense, considering how disliked Blossom was…

She laid back down, her head pressing against the soft pillow. Her mind refused to clear… Sometimes it also felt like there was something in her head…eating her thoughts or something… Or maybe such sensations were just another product of her…sleep-deprived mindache being presently felt…

And Miranda’s absence was only one of the things festering deep within. Immediately after the night of Summer’s Transition, Blossom had been hearing murmurs that Sir Berrybottom had sent one of the older sons off the war. Dread had filled her being upon first hearing, though…she was relieved to see during her last dinner assignment that…Billhook was still here, and with that same tongue of his, now even…sharper.

Yet it was only a matter of time until Billhook would be sent away too…or married off or…something… And she still had yet to speak to him once; now it was starting to feel that she might…never actually…be able to…

“Stupid…” Blossom muttered… “Fortune loves standing against me…” In so many ways, she was able to hear coming out from that mouth of his…her own…thoughts, words, and…feelings, though…articulated so much better and more…refined.

As she continued to think, a burning tingly sensation began to intrude upon her chest… She found it rather…annoying.

Sighing yet again, she sat herself up and began to…peer around again…

Hmm… “Wait…” She noticed… One…other bed was not occupied; a bed belonging to another…recently promoted fellow… “Oh, I know…where that… I’ll keep my tongue…clean” she murmured…

Indeed, Blossom remembered this fellow junior specifically; the things this one would gossip about… And, if she recalled correctly, the last time she had seen this one was…around the hallway to which the youngest son’s room was connected. Truly, even if the dots being connected were dubiously presumptuous, she could presurmise…the reasons for this one’s absence…

“Slut…” her breaths muttered, having failed at keeping her mouth clean.

Her head fell right down back onto the soft pillow… This night would be sleepless.

-|||-

Squeaky. Squeaky. Squeaky…

Why was this glass so squeaky? Hmm… “Squeaky clean, squeaky rubs… That makes sense, I suppose…” Blossom murmured to herself.

Once again, she found herself standing atop a stool…cleaning a window. Though, this time such had been assigned; there were no other motivations. It was rather sunny outside, stupidly so… The brightness saturated everything around, burning her eye. Albeit her sleeplessness had made her head…extra sensitive to the sun lately, as if she were a nightstalker…

“Window cleaning, window cleaning… ‘Hey, clean these windows since that’s all you’re good for’…Pfft…” Blossom muttered more aloud… She did not need to turn her eyes to see the glares being lanced her way by her fellows around who were also on window duty… Nevertheless, Blossom felt that she specifically was being assigned this specific chore more often than not, despite it being her group collectively.

She continued to wipe and swipe, progressively becoming more and more…frustrated. For whatever reason, she wanted to break this window…

She felt taunted; she felt insulted… Indeed, if she glanced her eyes behind, there she would see quite the specific and elaborate door; that of the youngest son over whom all her fellows seemed to slobber. Truly, Fortune had to be… “such a bitch…”

“Pardon me?” such a voice immediately pierced Blossom’s spine and very soul… Eyes widening, she slowly turned herself around, her soaked hands…timidly held behind her back as she remained atop the stool…

As if suddenly materializing right behind her just to hear her blurt out…such words, was her group’s new overseeing maid. Compared to the previous lead maid whom this one had replaced, this one was…definitively on the ‘bitch’ side of the ‘bitch to non-bitch’ spectrum.

And Blossom could tell already from the type of stare being glared…what was about to come; she braced immediately.

“Pink. Care to repeat what you had just said?” the overseeing maid so sternly spoke; “Do understand we are in the presence of a Berrybottom’s dormitory and do understand my immediate interpretation.” Her voice was strict and tight.

So many eyes…Blossom could feel…staring. Her eyes averted down…before, with a deep breath, her stance became more…determined and confident. She looked the overseeing maid right in the eye and said: “Bitch.”

Such deafening silence as all glowering eyes around pierced their glares, stunned almost… Before, all so suddenly, a sharp stinging pain struck Blossom’s cheek, vibrating across her face; she tumbled off the stool and onto the ground. So intense, she wanted to cry, though…she prohibited herself from doing so.

Towering over her with darkened eyes, the overseeing maid so coldly glared; “You evidently must learn to clean your mouth. Thus, you shall start by cleaning everything else. You are to remain here for the entirety of the day, cleaning the windows, the floor, the walls, the doors: everything until they are as clean as I expect your mouth to be.” thus, such was so ordained… The overseeing maid marched off.

Blossom sniffled as she stood herself back up, her cheek…still a stinging red… Without much delay, she moved the stool to the next window frame and stood atop, wiping away with that same wet rag…

Whatever. She did not care. She did not…care whatsoever. Not at all… Thus, she repeated over and over, telling herself inside.

Having not much the choice, her ears tuned in to the many whispers of her fellow juniors around, gossiping away as they stood atop their own stools.

“That was satisfying to witness. I appreciate our new managing maid.”

“…you know Pink is right next to us, surely?”

“Precisely.”

“Oh, oh, Burgundy, did you hear? Surely you have? Surely you have?”

“Hear…?”

“Really? You have not heard? Well… Listen to this: Moon had her virginity taken by sir Swordstaff last night…”

“…”

“What????”

“Shh, keep your voice down”

“Apologies…”

“But, s-seriously??”

“Yes…”

“Gods, Gods… How??”

“Allegedly Moon bumped into him by Fortune’s luck and began to discourse, during which he discovered that she was good at matho-matics and—let none hear me speak this—matho-matics is the young sir’s weakest… So, he asked if she could…provide him…some assistance during his evening studies… And, well… Their discourse became intercourse…”

“Charming, so charming… That sly lucky fox! Ugh, Gods curse you, Moon…”

“From what I heard, one of the sir’s attendants caught them still at it by sunrise, but maybe Moon was…exaggerating…”

“Fertility, I am foaming right now…”

“This is no Trinitarian estate, Burgundy; that is certain…”

“So, there is actually a chance? Oh, I so want to be first-bedded by a high-blooded noble such as he… Thank you for making me start burning, Love…”

“…” So… her presumptuous presumptions were…actually correct? For whatever reason, Blossom was perhaps a little surprised… Nevertheless, she resisted the urge to tch. ‘Bumped into him’ allegedly? Pfft… That one had certainly been pretending to clean around his chambers or something, waiting…

Yet…Blossom’s mind could not help but suddenly drift to wondering… What would have happened if…she had ‘bumped into’…Billhook…all those many nights ago…?

Rather instantly, her face began to blush a heated red, which seemingly caused her stinging sore to sting even more... She quickly focused on cleaning the window.

Time progressed onwards as the juniors continued on with their monotonous window-cleaning, until eventually…footsteps began to echo…before becoming concrete, approaching closer… Certain footsteps belonging to those refined boots of a higher born soul of a more esteemed class…

The youngest son—thus so dubbed ‘Swordstaff’—with his…pompous smiling face…was returning from his whatever freeloading tasks of this day… What a life his must be, most certainly indeed… Pfft…

“Wow oh my, what a beheld sight…” thus that voice so invaded into her ears as that teenage boy of a nascent so-locally-prescribed ‘adult’ walked right past her.

Cute, charming, and young as they… Indeed, even Blossom found him to be attractive…admittedly; however, everything else about him—most of which were her own presupposed presumptions—was utter…bleh. Yet she was the only one repulsed; all the other girls around… She could hear their blushing awes of desire… Truly, her peers’ own admiration and wheezing gossips had only made her hold him with even greater contempt.

“Heh” thus the youngest son—the young sir Swordstaff—‘smiled’, standing before the door to his chambers; he eyed the junior maids who all now stood with elegant respect before his sight, no longer atop their stools…besides, save, one.

Everything about his eyes felt…intrusive, as if he were making selections. Blossom disliked them; though, she also disliked him in general… so, there was an evident bias.

“To think the Gods would favour me this day by having so many beauteous demoiselles before my quarters; I am, truly, honoured” thus Swordstaff remarked…

It was evident he was trying to make his boyish voice far more mature and esteemed, like that of his brother except obviously trying too hard… Yet the juniors ate it up, awing in charmed breaths…

Swordstaff, smirking effectively, proceeded to walk straight for one specific maid, not a junior despite being amongst; one whose hair was as if the blue of the brightest moonlit night, and whose eyes were almost as if the lunar-white of the illuminate full-moon… ‘Moon’, thus she was dubbed.

Standing before Moon, Swordstaff leaned in closer with such a specific smile. She backed up in reply, bumping into the stool behind, blushing rather the blush…

“Now yours is a sight I did not expect to see so soon… I appreciated your…arithmetic assistance the night before; it was a productive session. I look forward to seeing you again this night, Moon…” he so remarked, his voice…suggestive.

Moon only blushed even more. “He said my name…” her breaths so lightly slipped.

He then turned his eyes to…the other junior maids around; “Not many of you former peasants are as gifted as I, nor as educated… Your blood might be lesser, but I think more of you could be helped with…extra tutorage”—his eyes returned to Moon—“So, feel free to bring a friend” he thus stated.

“…multiples??”

So many more blushes ignited as if their sweat vaporized into steam. Many were glad they had befriended Moon; others…lamented that they had not.

Winking, he began to head for the door to his chambers… before pausing, turning around, eyeing Moon again; “Actually, second whispers enter mind, and now that I think… I could use some arithmetic assistance this moment, as well as a…different perspective… As predestined as I am, I know not much of the world beyond these protective halls, unlike you all…” thus he so spoke.

The potency of Moon’s ever-igniting blush made her appear more akin to the sun than even the atmosphered moon—metaphorically. “…o…of course, certainly, sire! I am…glad to…help you…” her heated voice spoke, before she peeked her head around; “Hmm… Burgundy”—she thus pointed—“she can read and enjoys reading, so she knows…many things…” Moon had perhaps overheard that other junior maid’s—thus dubbed ‘Burgundy’—not-so-quiet whispers.

Burgundy’s cheeks ignited into a blush that was far more potently red than her burgundy hair.

Swordstaff smiled; “Excellently heard, right this way then” thus he waved, stepping to his door before opening it, holding the door in place as he gestured enter.

Moon and Burgundy thus began to step forth.

Blossom could hear the echoing sigh of the overseeing maid who stood in the corner at a distance, pinching a sliver of her forehead… Although the overseeing maid obviously would prefer if the young sir did not screw around with her junior staff, there was…literally nothing she could do in this moment. Ultimately, he was a Berrybottom—one merely at…‘that age’ so to speak—and they were this house’s servants of lesser blood.

Such was, in fact, a reason for why Blossom could not help but…scowl in this sea of envious eyes. Indeed, there was nothing wrong—in the social-cultural lenses of these lands—for a high-born ‘master’ such as he to blatantly demand intercourse from his house’s servants. Such was considered a ‘natural’, even if unspoken, implication of their job as servants who attended to ‘needs’; they were afforded little protections or recognitions in these…matters, might they be employed or—most especially—enslaved.

Yet, nevertheless, Swordstaff just had to make the girls around feel special and…important and needed, obscuring the obvious intentions behind this mask of ‘tutoring’ and ‘help’, despite everyone around knowing what was going to happen. While many could view such as charming or considerate, for whatever reason, Blossom did not like this one bit…

“What a degenerate…fornicating serpent” Blossom’s breaths so blurted with such disdain.

Silence. So abruptly did the once steaming air freeze over, for her words had not been uttered…quietly.

Blossom could feel all those piercing grimaces and glares of bewildered shock and surprise…as she slowly turned her eyes, widening with realization… Fortune’s ever-conditional luck had made her…the closest to the young sir’s door, and he had most certainly heard her words.

“Uh…” Blossom blumbled. Indeed, Swordstaff was staring right at her… His eyes, while surprised, were not necessarily angry… They were something else…

“Hm.” Swordstaff uttered before he, quite abruptly, began to approach, the door shutting behind. His face was one that was difficult to read… So many signals, so many…

Blossom’s own flaring anxieties did not help either…

Swordstaff halted right before her, staring into her…closely with such…certain eyes… A stare that tried to make Blossom feel so much smaller despite the fact she was still standing atop her stool, making her somewhat taller.

“What was that? Hm? You say something?” his voice so inquired; he was so trying to mask the belligerency.

Despite all of her usual confidence when dealing with those above her, in this instance, her eyes were…evasive; her figure was tense; her mind…nervous…and timid… She remained quiet…

The overseeing maid was glaring with such piercing eyes, yet…she did not intervene; she could not intervene. It was just Blossom and him…

“I…I…I…am…” she struggled to articulate.

Swordstaff let out a scoffing puff; “Hm. What? You are what? You clearly know how to speak. So, speak. You are what?” His voice was thoroughly trying to be belittling and mighty.

“…sorry…” Blossom…apologized, lowly…and docile…

“Ah… There you are. That is better…” thus he so spoke; “Now, maid, you clearly have such an already dirtied mouth becoming of a wench; so, if you truly want to apologize…” his demeaning voice was drifting towards…suggesting.

“Hrmm” Blossom began to grumble… Truly, everything about the way he was looking at her, the way he was speaking to her, it all…made her…feel so very…angry; an embodiment of all that which she so…despised of the likes of him.

Taking a deep breath, her stance abruptly became straightened and far stauncher; her once-timid eyes lanced their stare right into his own with resurgent confidence… “Actually, I want my apology returned to me.” thus she stated all so bluntly; “And before you suggest, I’ll never fornicate with you.”

Swordstaff paused… “Fornication, huh? That word implies we are equals. Besides, Trinitarian, your nonsense is not tolerated here. We are a house of the Gods of these lands.” he so retorted.

“Not a Trinitarian; I am just smart enough to understand common morality, and you are noblely degenerate.” she so rebuked.

Swordstaff…only stared with even greater piercing eyes, as did all the rest. But Blossom remained entrenched, fully committing to the moment.

Yet…“Heh…” He… Was he… What was that…grin? “Well, aren’t you suddenly such a strong and brave girl, with staunch will and determined pride, as if you actually believe you are above a man and higher birth… As if you actually believe you can humiliate me…” thus he remarked, his voice…

What even…was this tone of voice?

“But you already showed your true colours, what you hide behind this shield of strength” His stare only became even more…different…in a way Blossom could not describe. One that seemed both spiteful and humiliated, yet also…fascinated and…

And…

Predacious.

Indeed, it was as if she had provoked a predator whose eyes were now looking at her as not merely an object of interest, but as prey.

Realizations entering mind, her spine shuddered. She…really did not want to be in front of him anymore… Yet nevertheless, she remained entrenched, resisting any trembling impulse.

Swordstaff stood himself taller and leaned in closer, attempting to reach her ears despite the stool she stood atop making her taller. “Consider yourself noted” these whispering words nonetheless pierced her ears; she nearly shivered…

These words said, he simply…backed away, sighing as he peered around. “Oh goodness”—he ahemed—“I apologize that you fair demoiselles…had to see me like that. I did not mean to become so soured over the words of such a fowl girl; I hope you do not think less of me”—he opened his chamber’s door— “I am still eager to study…” However, he paused, eyes averting… “Though, I am not in…as sociable of a mood… While I appreciate your volunteering, I believe…I need to be alone…”

Without another word, Swordstaff stepped in and quickly shut his door.

All those once-envious eyes turned their stare right to Blossom, piercing with frustrated glares—two pairs of such scowling eyes being the most vitriolic of them all, piercing into her unlike any other ever received prior.

“Dirtied-mouth skank…”

If her fellows did not hate her before, they absolutely did now…

Yet soon after, the stomping heels of the overseeing maid began to descend upon her in the most furious of furies. “PINK!” such words pierced, “Come here! We need to have a word. Now!” The overseeing maid was beyond angry.

Blossom sighed; hopping off her stool, she approached the overseeing maid who immediately yanked her by the arm and began to effectively drag her off and away, pulling so very harshly…

Blossom knew that…a reprimanding punishment unlike any other was soon to befall… Yet, quite frankly, she could not truly be bothered to care… Deep down within, she was honestly…relieved to be away from that room and especially away from him.

Ah…

Such group anger and peer contempt

It appears that quite the ingredients for…quite the testing scene…

Have been presented

And all one has to do is simply…

Nudge things along

Amplify…

Intensify…

That which already exists