The Iron Butterfly

He shrugged his shoulders and walked off, truly a tribute to his name, silent like the forest.



Tearsa let out a frustrated sigh and looked me over head to toe. Her eyes were sharp and a little too close together and sat above a small pug nose. “You won’t last a week here, in your condition. You hardly look strong enough to haul a bucket of water. Oh well, I have my orders and you better not embarrass me. Do you understand?”



“Yes, I understand.”



“What's your name?”



“Thalia.”



“Well, Thalia, go get your things. I will show you to your new quarters.”



Heat rose to my cheeks in embarrassment as once again, within the span of a few minutes, I was reminded of how destitute I was. Following behind Tearsa I quickly spoke up, “I have everything I need.”



She stopped walking and gave me a searching look as if trying to discern my true reasons for being dumped on her. Her gaze seemed to measure me and for a split second I saw a hint of her eyes softening before disappearing behind a sterner work face. “Doesn’t matter, come along then.”



She walked down another hallway until we came down to a corridor of rooms that were behind the kitchen. I could tell that we were close to the kitchen because I could feel the heat from the ovens and smell the fresh baked bread.



“In here.”



She opened a door to a small room a little bigger than my previous cell. It contained two simple trundle beds one with bedding and the other an empty mattress, a closet and nightstand and, glory to be, two windows. The thought of being in this small room would terrify me if it wasn’t for the windows. The room was bare compared to the guest room I had the night before. But I was happy that I would earn a wage and be able to add personal touches to the room later.



“You will share this room with Avina. There may be times when we will hire on extra help and we use the spare trundle beds so your room occupancy will double over night. But that won't be for a few weeks. So for now you two will share one. Go find Berry. She’s our head seamstress and will set you up with a set of clothes and bedding. And then meet me in the kitchen for your first shift.”



I turned around to ask Tearsa where I could find the head seamstress, but she was gone as quickly as she had come, off to her next task. Biting my lip, I began to curiously walk up and down every corridor looking for the head seamstress. I tried to peek into open rooms and take into account my surroundings. I did notice that servant’s uniforms consisted of muted blues, grey and white. Simple styles, with little decoration and very gender neutral in appearance. This was my first time being able to look around the Citadel unescorted so I kept stopping whenever an interesting painting or sculpture caught my eye. Totally enraptured with my surroundings I turned a corner and walked right into an argument between two women.



“You can’t possible consider this to be my dress, it’s awful. You must redo my dress over.” This was said by a tall blonde girl, with dark brown eyes and soft feminine features, which seemed out of place with her nasty tone.



The recipient of her tongue-lashing was whom I could only assume to be Berry. The Citadel's head seamstress was a petite woman with uncontrollable brown curls, which were held at bay by a single red ribbon. A smattering of dark freckles framed her pert nose and slim mouth. Hands on her hips, she didn't back down from the blonde.



“Syrani, we are on a strict budget and time table. If you want a dress made with different fabric than what the Citadel keeps in stock, then you must bring us the bolts of fabrics yourself,” she replied.



“That’s preposterous. You are the Citadel’s seamstresses. What else are you here for if not to create dresses for me? Besides my father has strict orders that I must be kept happy, which I’m not.”



“Syrani, we are employed by the Citadel and therefore have hundreds of people to clothe and thousands of garments to mend and alter. You should be grateful that they found time to finish your dress. If you are unhappy with it, then I will have them alter the dress again as soon as you pay for the first one.”



“Don’t speak another word. There is no way in heaven that I will be subjected to pay for that piece of trash dress. It feels like burlap and they were sloppy in their work. What can you expect from lowly peasants? They messed up plain and simple.”



Now I could see that Berry was getting angry at the insult to her helpers. “All of our clothes are made from the same material. Those women you are insulting are very talented ladies and I know for a fact that their work is impeccable.” Berry challenged. “Their station in life does not by any means make them less important than you.”



“Not one of them has my bloodline and they will never be equal to me.” Syrani yelled, her nostrils expanded in anger and her eyes darkened.



My mind scrambled for a solution to resolve the problem, but before I could intervene Syrani stormed away and ran right into me.



“Watch where you’re going!” Syrani snarled at me.



“NO! YOU watch where you’re going!” I caught her off guard and she stepped back in confusion. I couldn’t help it, after hearing her berate the seamstress I took it one step further. “Really? A bad dress, maybe you should have had your Father’s household seamstress outfit you before coming here instead of taking advantage of good people. Or does he not know of your extra orders?” I let the smugness show on my face, which made her fume.



“What do you know? You’re so skinny you look like a drowned rat and the only things that a rat attracts are dogs and disease.” And with that she smiled triumphantly and left.



“Ugh, what a horrible girl,” Berry spoke as she came to stand next to me, eyeing Syrani’s retreating figure warily.



“Please tell me that not all of the Denai students here are like that?” I sighed, motioning with my head down the hall toward Syrani.



“Oh no, they are great for the most part. You will find that most of the Denai are easy to get along with. There are only a handful that are as difficult as Syrani. She thinks she’s superior because her family has a long line of powerful Denai. She is actually Adept Cirrus’s niece so she tends to try and throw her weight around before she is even an Adept herself. Who knows, she may well one day become one and then we are all in trouble.” She paused and seemed to really notice me for the first time.



“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Berry, I’m the head seamstress.” She held out her hand to me.



“Thalia,” I shook her hand knowing that I liked her immediately.



“What can I do for you, Thalia? I think I owe you one for insulting Syrani. You did what I would never dare for fear of being fired on the spot,” Berry grinned.



The euphoric feeling of telling off an obvious bully disappeared with her statement. I hadn’t realized that my intervention may have consequences of their own. What if the Adepts heard and chose to release me from their protection or threw me out into the streets? Suddenly I felt a little sick and flustered. “Uh, I actually need a few items. I’m to start work here, Tearsa sent me for bedding and a uniform.” I felt as if my face was turning green.



“Oh!” Berry’s smile dropped slightly when she realized the same thing I did, but she recovered faster than me and her smile widened again. “You are going to work with us here? How very lucky you are. I know families that have been trying for years to get a job here. Tearsa is very particular about who gets hired on. You must know someone important or have great references.” Knowing the circumstances by which I was given the job, I decided to make a noncommittal noise instead.