She had barely finished her bath when the huge wooden doors swung open with a creak. The loud peals of laughter and the high-pitched chatter died down immediately, replacing it with a dulled murmur that subdued itself below the sound of the flowing water.
Eve peered out of the cubicle, stretching back curiously, her wet hair sticking to her reddened skin. There, at the far end of the room was a tall middle-aged woman standing, surrounded by a coterie of servants.
As she moved forward, it seemed like she was gliding through the air, her every step graceful, her chin up, and her almond-shaped eyes peering down on the younger women in scrutiny. The woman radiated arrogance that came from much power.
But what was more intriguing was that, unlike the other servants, she wore green- a color that reminded her of Emilya and her girls. The woman stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes searching her surroundings curiously.
"Walkers leave the room!" One of the servants ordered.
Immediately a few dozen women filed towards the door, scarcely covered in towels, bowing to the elderly women respectfully as they passed her. Eve noticed that they were all women who had been there before they had arrived at the bathhouse.
As they moved hurriedly, a servant came running through the door, stopping only when she reached the woman in green. Panting heavily, she leaned in to whisper something in the woman's ears. The older woman raised her brows as if in shock, the purple in her eyes brightening for the fraction of a second before settling into a darker shade as it settled on her.
Eve stepped back, startled by the heat in her gaze. She quickly looked away, her heart skyrocketing nervously. When she felt the woman's gaze shift, she relaxed, tuning into the low murmurs around her.
"She's a witch."
"She's one of them."
"I heard she.."
Eve licked her lips worriedly. A witch? What exactly did that mean? A flicker of memory flashed in her mind- a frowning Emilya, a raised hand, her ending up with lost memories in the woods and an entire building transformed into something else.
"I'm scared," Litty whispered, reaching out to her with cold fingers.
Eve turned to the girl, putting a hand over hers in sympathy. Her dark brown eyes were wide with fear, glancing between the woman and her nervously.
"I'd console you," Eve said, shaking her head, "but I don't want to give you baseless hope."
Litty's eyes watered, threatening to spill over as she lowered her head. "I understand." She murmured, her voice barely a squeak.
"Stop your chatter!" One of the servants shouted, her face scrunching in anger as she looked around the place. "Don't you know that you're in the presence of the Matron? Or did your illiterate parents forget to teach you manners as well?!"
Matron. So that's why they were all on their toes, Eve thought as she observed the servants, standing deadly still next to the woman as if they were scared to make the tiniest of sounds. Other than the one who kept raising her voice, no one else dared to move from their place. Silence loomed over the bathhouse, every eye on the woman in green.
"Who is she calling illiterate?" Viola murmured, frowning at the comment.
The matron turned towards her. "You and all of your kin." She said, narrowing her eyes at her.
Eve's eyes widened at the reply. How in the world had the woman heard that? She wondered. Her stepsister's voice was barely a whisper. With the sound of the flowing water, it was impossible for someone who was standing at least a few feet away from them to hear that.
Viola stepped forward, ignorant of the situation she had landed herself in. A huge frown dragged down the corners of her lips. "Well, I can-"
The slap came out of thin air. Eve gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as Viola fell on the wet granite, her back hitting the floor with a loud thud. A servant hovered over her with a raised hand, her hazel eyes blazing in rage.
It was the same girl who had kept issuing warnings, sticking by the matron's side. Something about the almond shape of her eyes and her raised cheek seemed suddenly familiar.
"How dare you talk back to the matron?!" The girl screamed, waving a caramel finger at Viola.
"You!" Eve watched her stepsister cry out in rage, glaring at the hovering above her. "You will regret this!"
The servant opened her mouth to say something. But before she could get it out, a peal of laughter cut her off, echoing through the large hall. All eyes turned towards the matron in surprise.
"Aren't you feisty?" The older woman asked, smirking at a fuming Viola. "Let's see if you'll last a day here. Then we can think about your threat."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned back, walking around the room slowly as she issued her warning.
"From today, you are the property of Nightwell Hold. You will eat, sleep, move only when asked to. Stepping outside the castle walls is prohibited. Raising your eyes towards the royalty is prohibited. Talking back to those above your rank is prohibited and of course, there is a huge list of other things that Asya will brief you later." She said, pointing to the servant who seemed to be her pet.
The girl blushed, stepping back to let the woman pass meekly. The matron smiled at the gesture, walking forward as she came to a stop in front of Eve.
"Any kind of resistance will be met with strict punishment. And any efforts at escape will lead to immediate death, that is if you're still alive when you're caught." She said, a dangerous smile pulling at the corner of her lips.
Eve licked her lips, fighting the urge to peel her gaze away from the woman's. The matron chuckled, breaking the eye contact. But it quickly dulled out, a stern expression settling over her features as if she had caught herself with her guard down.
Raising a caramel-toned hand, she waved at the servants waiting at the door. Within minutes, fresh towels were passed around the bathhouse, its material although coarse to touch eliciting a pleasant fragrance. Eve quickly patted herself dry, wrapping the cloth around her torso in relief.
"Let me introduce myself." The matron continued, raising her chin in arrogance. "I am the housekeeper of this palace, the Regent's most trusted servant and hence way high above the ranks of you slaves." She paused, turning to Viola. Then wearing an arrogant smirk whispered, "Welcome to your living hell."
Viola looked away with a frown, exuding the same arrogance. That was when the soldier walked in, his purple coat flowing behind him as he moved. A few women squealed in embarrassment, quickly hiding behind the partitions while others stared at the man in awe. The latter reaction was pasted on most of the servants' faces as well.
The matron's pet, the one called Asya was no exception. Her hazel eyes fell upon the man in worship, her little hand unconsciously rising to her chest. Eve's eyes missed no detail. She watched the girl blush, her eyes following his every movement without missing a beat.
The matron bowed to Ivan as he came to a stop in front of her. "Sir Ilyich, how may I serve you?" She asked, her voice losing all the arrogance it carried only a few seconds ago.
"The soldiers are tired," Ivan said, trying hard to keep his eyes solely on the matron. "Please make haste in preparing the women."
"Yes," The matron said, smiling politely at the regent's right hand. "But you didn't have to come all the way here to convey that message, Commander. You could have sent a servant."
The man shifted uncomfortably, taking a quick glance at Eve before saying, "The regent sent me to remind you of your instruction."
The matron nodded, her eyes falling on Eve once again. With a sigh, she turned back to the commander. "As you command." She said with a bow.