Parisa sank low into the copper tub. A low moan escaped from her throat as her muscles contracted before relaxing under her skin. Steam rose around her face while the subtle scent of roses tickled her nose. It wasn't one that she particularly enjoyed, but neither was she going to complain about scent choice when she was being shown a kindness she hadn't seen in a long time.
When she'd first entered the water, it had stung her skin. She'd wanted to withdraw her foot instantly, but Adele had been there to see that she couldn't run away. She'd shoved Parisa into the water, all but forcing the girl's silver topped head beneath the slightly soaped surface. Parisa had swallowed her cry. Everywhere the water had touched her had felt like pins and needles. Now, she was quite grateful to the maid as she stood behind her, scrubbing another floral smelling soap into her silver strands of hair.
"How long have you worked here?" Parisa ventured. She wasn't sure if Adele would deign to answer. She hadn't seemed to care for the girl since they'd met at the estate door.
"Next month," Parisa jerked at the sound of her raspy voice. "I'll be going on twenty years." She continued her scrubbing of Parisa's scalp, though part of Parisa wanted to turn at look at the elderly maid. Twenty years. That was longer than she'd been alive.
- I was about this age in my previous life, too, I think.
Parisa cradled some suds in her hands.
- Maybe a year older?
Granted, Parisa no longer knew her actual age, but she could estimate it based on earlier birthdays. She was around seventeen. Come this next spring, she'd be eighteen.
"That's a long time," the girl mused as she brought the soap bubbles closer to her face. She studied the lights as they reflected like tiny rainbows in each bubble. It was gorgeous. "Do you enjoy it here?"
When Adele didn't answer, Parisa turned her head a fraction to catch a glance at her. The maid's hazel gaze had darkened, her mind elsewhere even as her body continued the no doubt practiced movements of serving and caring for another.
Parisa didn't ask anymore questions.
When she was finally done, Adele instructed Parisa to stand in the tub. Water rolled down her body in soft rivulets, taking the rose scented bubbles with it. Even with the fire roaring in the fireplace, she shivered as the air kissed her damp and naked skin.
Adele helped her from the tub and toweled the girl off before waving her towards the canopied bed where a fresh set of clothing was already laid out. She tossed a glance back at the dirty pile of new clothing her mother had given her.
"What-" Parisa tripped on the question. "What will happen to those?" she nodded to the pile and Adele's gaze followed. Her nose wrinkled. Another rare show of emotion.
"They'll be disposed of."
Parisa waited for a long second. She waited for the feel of regret, maybe sorrow, at parting with the last thing her mother had gifted her. When nothing rose, the voice returned, its cackle echoing through her body.
- Such a rude child.
Parisa ground her teeth together as she turned back to the fresh clothes laid out on the bed. She hadn't noticed it earlier and Adele hadn't left his side long enough to prepare them since they entered. Parisa looked around the room, wondering when another maid might have brought the clothing in.
She ran her fingers over the finally crafted material, marveling at the clear care put into its making. She'd never worn anything so nice. The cotton clothes her mother gave her didn't even hold a candle to this finally made dress.
It was a loose-fitting gown made of white with delicately embroidered flowers along the collar and sleeve cuffs. As the dress progressed to the floor, the color turned from white to a soft purple. Parisa fingered the cloth, wondering what type of material it was made from when her gaze traveled to a piece of clothing she'd never encountered before. It was white and looked like it would only cover her torso. There were lines running up and down it which, she found, were solid to the touch.
"What is this?" she asked, holding up the garment to Adele. The maid took it and set it aside.
"It's a corset. All women are expected to wear one."
Parisa wanted to ask more. She'd never been expected to wear such a thing. No one, not even the nice neighbor ladies, had spoken to her about her obvious lack of one. Adele said no more on the matter as she turned Parisa around and began drying the girl off. She helped her dress, first with the corset that Parisa quickly found she disliked. Even when the strings for binding it were pulled as tightly as they would go, it was still loose on the girl's body, making it feel awkward and uncomfortable.
When she was fully dressed, Adele brought a mirror over to her. Parisa gaped at her reflection, not at all recognizing the girl that stared back at her with a bright awe induced gaze. She resembled a young lady-to-be in her fancy dress and shiny black shoes.
The gown hid her malnourished body for the most part, though her collarbones still stuck out like sore thumbs. There was little that could be done to hide this. Despite the thorough cleaning and dressing up she'd gone through, her cheeks were still hollow and the dress hung from her body, coming down to brush the floor a little more than Parisa expected it was supposed to. Underneath the fabric, she knew each of her ribs could be counted.
Parisa couldn't stop running her hands up and down the gown, as if expecting it to disappear. Her hair tickled her neck. Adele had put it up in a ponytail and Parisa wasn't used to feeling the weight of it.
"Come," Adele said a moment later. Parisa was still gawking at her reflection. "It's time for you to meet Lord Astri."
Parisa scurried to catch up to the maid as she opened the door to the room and stepped out into the hall. The girl cast one last glance to the mirror and her reflection before letting the door close behind her.
"Who is Astri?"
"Lord Astri," Adele corrected, tossing a side look at Parisa. A subtle criticism of her lack of manners. Heat blossomed in Parisa cheeks. "Is the head of this estate. His full name is Edgar Astri. If all goes way, he'll be your lord by the end of the day."
"Is he the one who bought me from my home?" Parisa asked as Adele led them back down the hallway and towards the lobby.
"No." She didn't elaborate on the matter. Parisa chewed on her cheek before looking down.
"Are there other family of Astri—I mean, Lord Astri—here?" Parisa asked, quickly correcting herself when Adele shot her a harsh look.
"The lady of the house is currently away visiting family in the east with her daughter. The young master is in his classes. You won't have to worry about any of them if you're brought in by Lord Astri." Adele turned to the right and led Parisa around the grand staircase.
"I won't? Why not?"
"Because you'll never come into contact with them. At least you shouldn't come into contact with anyone other than the lord." She said and Parisa stopped outside of the door that led into the drawing room she'd gotten a peek of earlier. Adele stopped and turned towards her. The maid's expression remained cold and neutral.
Parisa already knew the answer to the question that was poised on her tongue. She clasped her hands together tightly in front of her body. So much so that any blood and color that may have been beneath them vanished, leaving the skin white like the snow outside.
"If your Lord Astri buys me," she started, a quiver in her voice. "What will I be doing?"
Adele only held Parisa's stare for a long moment. Muffled voices could be heard on the other side of the thick door, though Parisa couldn't make any of it out. She held Adele's eyes for as long as she could before dropping them to the white and blue tiles below.
"You'll be his mistress."