"I am pleased to be apprised of this."
"And how is your Belcastle doing?"
Sandra gave a shrug of her shoulders. "We make do; the alterations to the way we farm have made it more profitable."
"What prompted you to shave your head?"
"Taxes, again," sighed Sandra stroking one of the horses. "They take up so much of my money that I can barely afford to keep Belcastle. It feels like the taxes are getting heavier and heavier all the time. If the Queen doesn't raise the tax on servants, she'll start taxing every acre of land with the capacity to farm, or put a tax on glass windows."
"Will you not allow any of your staff to depart?"
Sandra shook her head vehemently, her voice heavy with conviction. "No," she declared.
Leticia sighed and brushed her hands clean. "You have a savior complex, my darling Sandra. Life would be simpler for you if you were a bit more self-centered, like me."
"No one can deceive me," Sandra declared. "I recognize your storekeeper; she was your caretaker until you were thirteen."
Leticia gave a sniff. "I have no idea what you're implying," she stated. "It's only that, seeing as business has been going better, Aria needed to take on more staff."
Sandra nodded her head in agreement, her hand slowly sliding down the horse's shiny neck as she stepped away. "I really must be going," she said.
"Won't you remain for tea?"
Sandra raised her basket aloft, inquiring, "I have work to attend to, but I just wanted to come and greet you, and ask if anyone has been inquiring about my sign?"
"I only have a few names; I gave them to my nurse. So please, when you leave, ask her for the list."
"My gratitude to you is immense."
"It is the minimum I can do for you. It was nice to see you, and your dull hairdo."
"Leticia, be cautious."
"Sandra?"
Sandra paused at the threshold and swiveled to confront her companion.
"If only I had the capacity, I would be of greater assistance to you."
"Smiling," Sandra said, "I understand. Appreciate it."
Leticia nodded silently.
"Until then," Sandra exclaimed as she vanished within. "I shall make a return visit later this week!"
On the next day, when Sandra and Lucia had just finished setting up their wares at the market stall of the fortress, the Viva army officer reappeared.
"Madame," the officer said, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he uttered the Rioux title.
Sandra swept her fringe away from her gaze. "What can I do for you, sir?"
The officer cocked his head to one side as he scrutinized Sandra, assessing her in the same way a fox might eye a chicken. He then turned his gaze to Lucia, who was bustling around behind Sandra.
Lucia busied herself with arranging eggs in a basket, yet Sandra did not fail to notice the trepidation of the maid/produce-seller.
"Sir," Sandra repeated.
"If you would be so kind," the officer said, with a smirk cutting into his black eyepatch, "I would like another basket of carrots."
Sandra replied, "Yes, sir," as she poured the contents of a basket of carrots into a sack.
"Is the cost still ten copper coins?"
"Sir," exclaimed Sandra, handing the vegetables to the officer as he set a pile of coins on the countertop, which was made of coarse wood.
The officer said his farewell to Madame, respectfully tipping the brim of his hat, before he turned to address his troops.
Sandra remained silent and observed him as he departed.
Lucia grumbled, "He's a rake, that one is."
Sandra sighed as she grasped the copper coin between her fingers, and said, "I wish he would get his carrots from somewhere else. However, money is money, even if it is from Viva."
Sandra was stirring the butter when Gonzalo came upon her. It had been almost a week since the Viva officer had become a regular patron. Neither he nor his men uttered many words, yet his eyes seemed to linger on Sandra whenever the transaction was made.
"Lucia is indeed correct," Sandra muttered as she vigorously churned the buttery milk, her anger and frustration palpable. She knew she had to be cautious with him.
"Madame?" Gonzalo called out, his voice muffled as he made his way through the cow's sleeping quarters in the barn.
"Go to the back, Gonzalo."
Tracing the sound of Sandra's melodious voice, Gonzalo eventually stumbled upon her, standing in the shadows of a venerable old tree, vigorously churning butter.
"Madame, the most recent tax rules have been advertised. Donald went to the city to fetch Lucia's unfilled baskets and transcribed them. Do you want to examine them?".
With her apron, Sandra wiped the sweat from her face. "Yes, please," she replied. "Could you let Donald know I am grateful to him?"
"Indeed, Madame," Gonzalo uttered, offering Sandra a coil of birch bark. (It was an economical decision, in any case.) Sandra was ecstatic to find out that the biggest tax rise was the one already imposed on carriages. This wouldn't affect Belcastle. Months ago Sandra had done away with the carriage collection and the carriage horses were now being used to haul stacks of wood and carts of goods.
The income tax had gone down a bit, yet the tax on land had increased. Mathematics and money matters were not Sandra's strong suit, yet she had a feeling that the taxes of Belcastle would not be drastically altered. It was likely that there would be a minor rise, but nothing too significant.
Sandra muttered, "I must inquire of Donald."
Gonzalo inquired, "Pardon me, Miss?"
"I apologize," Sandra uttered, lifting her gaze from the birch bark. She had temporarily forgotten that the steward was present. "If there is anyone available, would you mind sending a stable boy or a kitchen girl to the residence of Lord and Lady Luther? I presume that the other noble families of Rioux will have something to say regarding this matter."
"Immediately, Madame."
"Sandra," the land steward Gonzalo acknowledged, taking the birch bark from her. He noticed the snag on her dress and the callous on her hand. "Thank you," he said with a nod.
Gonzalo replied, "Yes, Madame, absolutely."
Sandra went back to the butter churn and said, "Even though Belcastle doesn't have any carriages left, the other noble families of Rioux still do. Viva certainly knows how to hit us where it hurts."
Sandra had no choice but to walk to the Luther estate, since all the riding horses had been sold and the carriage and work horses had been given a break from their laborious day. Fortunately for her, the estate was conveniently located only half an hour away, right on the edge of Belcastle.
As she stepped into the grand hall, Sandra was awestruck by the wealth and grandeur that surrounded her. The maid led her to a salon, where she was presented with a gown of exquisite quality. She was amazed at the luxurious fabrics and intricate designs. She soon was adorned in the gown and made her way to the ballroom.
"Darling Sandra, it is such a pleasure to have you here," Lady Luther exclaimed, standing up from the couch and welcoming her into a warm embrace.
Madame Luther, a woman of advanced years, had hair of a dove-grey colour, and her politeness was something to behold. She saw Sandra's chopped locks and her simple and unremarkable clothing, which was no better than a maid's, but she kept her thoughts to herself. "Do take a seat. We have a little time to chat. How have you been?"
"Quite well, thank you. And yourself, Lady Luther?"
Lady Luther, as she poured Sandra a steaming cup of tea, inquired, "I am quite well now that winter has gone. The chill makes my aging bones sore. How is your step-mother doing?"
"I have not had much opportunity to view her," Sandra declared. "Nor my step-sisters either. Generally, they prefer to remain in their chambers and, when they do go outside, it is to call on acquaintances from Viva," Sandra noted, gripping her teacup tightly for additional heat.
Sniffing, Lady Luther shook her head. "It's a crime against goodness, what that woman does," she said. "I don't understand how she can live off you like a parasite. She won't even help you pay the taxes you have to pay for Belcastle, the estate of the man she married!"
Sandra stated that she had only wed Papa due to Queen Maud's command, and that she was the one responsible for covering the costs of living for herself and her daughters.
"Darling," Lady Luther said, "no child should be made to bear the burdens you have."
Sandra proclaimed, "I am seventeen."
Madame Luther's countenance grew mild. "You are overly considerate towards her, Sandra."
"Scarcely," Sandra began, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Lord Luther - a thin and solemn man - accompanied by Lord and Lady Edward, and their eldest son, Ryan.