"Miranda!" A voice was heard calling out for Miranda. Who was dozing off at the garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers and scenery?
A young lady stood before Miranda; she called Miranda's name for quite some time, but no responses came after. She freaked out, unable to think what to do next since Miranda was not waking up. And time wasn't at their side. She thought of ways she could do to wake Miranda up: slap her, shake her, or pour water on her.
But she sighed, seizing her mind to calm down. She could try to wake her up; surely she will wake up. She placed her arm on Miranda's shoulder, shaking it, and called.
"Miranda, wake up!" This time, Miranda jerked up from the bench. Stood on her feet and stretched her body.
She yawed. "Oh, Bianca I must have been sleeping for a while to notice your arrival," she muttered.
The young lady before her looked at her astonished and wondered what Miranda was talking about. Was she running mad?
"Bianca? Did you just call me Bianca Miranda?" The young lady exclaimed; a chuckle escaped her mouse. "Do you still have that habit of mumbling things when you wake up?"
Miranda was shocked by the lady's outburst; shockingly, she has never seen the lady before. "Who are you?" She asked.
"Me? Are you talking to me right now?" The lady blurted out.
"Exactly, there's no one here beside us." As Miranda looked around, she saw a disturbing sight. Where was she?.
The garden, the day that was supposed to be a night, and the enormous mansion behind them. The chirping sounds of the birds and cool breeze of wind—this wasn't her room, she remembers it being.
"Miranda, I don't know what's wrong inside your head. But what I know is that we are getting late; the birthday celebrations will start soon, and if we are not present, we will get in really big trouble.".
Miranda watched as the lady kept muttering things that didn't suit her state of mind. She was still processing and trying to understand where she was, and looking down at her clothes, she almost screamed out of fear. What was she wearing? A rug!
Okay, Miranda, calm down. She told herself this was just a little dream she was in. If she concentrates, then she could find a solution, just maybe understanding her situation.
The only question that could pop into her head was, "Where am I?" She asked the lady.
"You are at Terra Verde Manor." The lady answered her question. "Now can we go now" without waiting For Miranda's reply, the lady grabbed Miranda by her hand and dragged her along.
Along the way, the lady kept reasoning her complaints, but Miranda didn't pay attention to her. Her thoughts were on Terra Verde manor; she could swear she had heard about that word before, but where? It bothered her because she thought it could be her one cruel to leave this horrible dream and may be her way back.
There was something about this place that didn't seem right, everything about it. Even the lady who was dragging her inside the manor down on the hallway, up the stairs. For goodness sake, she doesn't know the lady, not her nor her face; she has never seen her. She had many questions to ask at the moment, but time didn't seem right at the moment; she could sniff it across a mile.
Then both the lady and Miranda entered a certain room. A high ceiling room with wooden beams and large windows, brick walls, and it was adorned with copper pots and utensils. Large wooden tables scattered from years of using, the fireplaces lit as pots were placed on top to cook.
The wafting aromas of roasting meats of beef, pork, and lamb could be smelled from miles. The smell of the freshly baked bread, pastries, and sweets, together with scents of herbs and spices, all passed on Miranda's nostrils.
The room looked busy as sounds of clanging pots, pans, and utensils were heard. The busy ups and downs of the maids carrying laden trays pass right besides Miranda. Shouts of the chief chef could be heard loud and clear.
"What are you two doing right there?" Screamed the chief chief, glaring at both the lady and Miranda.
The lady was frighted; she humbled herself and apologized with her head facing down. "We are really sorry, chief chef."
Chief was an old woman with a rather bad temper; Miranda didn't attempt to look at her in the eye. She didn't want to get devoured in a second.
"What are you still waiting for?" Go and take the drinks at the hall," yelled the chief chef.
The young lady took hold of Miranda's hand, and they both walked to a wooden table, where trays of roasted meat, salad, bread, and fruit stared right in front of Miranda. And at that moment she felt hunger rising up in her body. Reaching for a hand to grab a plate of meat, her hand was slapped by the young lady beside her.
"Don't you dare!" She warned, took a tray with a jug of wine that seemed for Miranda, and handed it to Miranda's hand. "What's wrong with you?" She voiced.
That's right, what was wrong with her? Miranda thought. What was she even doing right now?
"Let's go," the young lady told Miranda and walked with her tray of the similar jug that was in Miranda's hand.
Miranda followed behind the young lady, out of the kitchen, and into the hallway. Following the lady without a name seemed easy, but where were they going?
"Excuse me!" Miranda started. "What's your name?"
"Why did you forget my name too?" The lady asked sarcastically. "My name is Sarah."
"Do you mind telling me where we are going?"
"Will you shut up already?" echoed Sarah's voice.
She is scary, Mirand thought.
"Didn't you hear the chef? We are heading to the hall," the lady said.
Miranda understood the part they are going to the hall; she heard that, but why?
"What happens in the hall?" Miranda asked, going down the staircase.
"What do you think happens in the hall? Don't you remember today is the fourth prince's birthday?"
,fourth prince? What did that mean? "This must be a dream; definitely it is," she muttered.
Inside the hall, it was a huge circular hall with a ceiling about twenty to thirty feet tall with intricate mooring and ornate detail. The floor was limestone flooring polished to perfection. At the center, a large table was set with fresh flowers on it, and all the food was placed in order and jugs of drink.
While entering, Miranda tried to count the number of chairs present with the hair—a lot to count. She was amazed by how lavish the hall looked and was perfect. She has never been in this kind of hall, rather alone in a wedding hall. This was the perfection of them all. She placed the jug on the table with her tray; she stepped aside of it and stood together with Sarah in line with the other maid.
So I am a maid, she thought.
As she was thinking, the door of the hall opened...