A Chaotic Morning

Mel’s tears from the previous day had held a strange effect on her. She had woken up the following morning with an odd feeling. Her previously heavy heart was now light as if she had expelled all the negative energy along with her tears the day before. The calmness she had woken up to washed over her like heavy rolls of a warm fog.

She got up from bed, the relaxation giving way to a firm resolution. She wasn’t just a pitiful woman. She was a noble of Sprite, and if she was to right a wrong done by her father, she had to do it with dignity. Mel stared into space with mixed feelings. She couldn’t bring herself to hate her father. She didn’t even know how to feel. But one thing she knew was that Bjorn would not have asked for this either, but he must have followed through whether he wanted it or not. The least she could do was reciprocate that dedication.

Eustace, Annie, Lori, and even the other helpers, noticed Mel’s subtle change. Amidst the knowledge Eustace imparted to Mel about the Grime clan, and the continuous help from Lori, Mel’s confidence began to wane with each day as the wedding drew closer. She was yet to go underground, but as she wasn’t yet joined in union with Bjorn, or a family of the Grime clan, the underground city was off limits to her. The ceremony was originally supposed to hold at the end of the week, but Mel had wanted just a little more time to be accustomed to the clan and learn more about it. At least to make up for the preparation she hadn’t properly made back in Urn. Eustace had reluctantly allowed it. Now that Mel was two days away from the wedding, she was seated with Eustace, going over the final details of the prepared traditional dress. Eustace’s ceremonial gown had been too large and heavy to be modified for Mel’s size, so a new one had been prepared.

She had noticed the usual female garments of the Grime clan were simple designs of well-embroidered dresses, most of them frayed at the hem. A sleeveless jacket could further be added to their clothing along with simple to lavish jewellery. These were accessories even the simple folk had access to. The men rarely wore tunics, unlike how it was back in Urn. Their clothing was rather simple; fur or cotton “pants” with shirts or “ponchos”. Mel found the words strange, but anything would be in a different part of the world.

The ceremonial attire that had been prepared for Mel appeared to be a jumbled mess of heavy clothes thrown layer on top of another layer. Just looking at the garment stoked the flames of distress within her. She would simply be crushed under all that weight standing. And she had to walk in it?

When Mel questioned about the fitting and if any adjustments could be made, the tailors simply laughed and Eustace assured Mel that they were very efficient with their work.

Whatever that meant.

Mel collapsed onto her bed the night before the wedding, her muscles aching from exhaustion. As her weak frame hit the bed, the last of her worries hit her, unsealing the gates she had kept locked. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye. Her family wouldn’t be there to see her tomorrow, and not once had she seen Bjorn since the day she had arrived.

“My lady,” Annie whispered, gently pulling the sandals off Mel’s feet. “The helpers prepared supper—”

“I’m not hungry, Annie,” Mel whispered back. Her stomach grumbled at the end of her sentence.

Annie continued after the awkward silence, persistent, “My lady—”

“Annie, please,” Mel pleaded, lying limp on the welcoming bed. “I am tired. I don’t even have the strength to put anything in my mouth.”

“No matter. I will feed—”

“I want to be alone,” Mel groaned into the bed, her voice muffled but distinct enough to be heard clearly as she stressed each word.

Annie stood still, quiet. The silence stretched for a lengthy period and a worried sigh came out of Annie. “I will be taking my leave,” she said in a meek whisper. “Goodnight, my lady.”

Mel listened to her maid’s footsteps and her subsequent exit. She closed her eyes, feeling drained and a little bit guilty for behaving in such a way towards Annie. Her heavy eyelids drooped and sleep took hold of her weary mind.

_________________________

The following morning was one of the most chaotic scenes Mel had ever witnessed in her entire life.

She had been told the wedding ceremony would take place late in the evening, but no one had told her there would be serious preparation this early in the morning. She had woken up to a chattering noise and opened her eyes to the blinding lights of the ceiling crystals. The sleepy haze was knocked off her eyes at the crowd running helter-skelter in her room.

The scenery had rendered her silent with shock and she was dragged off the bed, stripped of her clothing, and rushed to the bathing chamber, similar to the one back home. This time, the ceramic bathtub was a thick wooden basin, and warm water was doused on her, followed by a thorough scrub of her body.

Terrified out of her wits, she called out for Annie, only to be relaxed by the helpers, letting her know Annie was busy with other arrangements for the ceremony.

“But—it’s only—morning—” she spat out more water as more was doused on top of her head.

Had she done something wrong to deserve this? Not even the servants back home were this rough with her.

“Sto—stop it!” she screeched, flailing about in the water and spraying it in the helper’s faces.

The helpers stopped abruptly, shock, and a slight hint of fear in their wide-eyed expressions. Mel frowned, her skin numb from their callous hands. “Be more gentle with me! You seem to forget that I don’t have such a strong physique for you to treat me so roughly. That aside, I get my sleep disturbed, dragged from the bed, and all of a sudden whisked to the tub without even an explanation of…” Mel panted and gasped, out of breath. Her heart raced in her chest, beating erratically from her rapid breathing.

They bowed their heads, deep regret etched into their faces. “We’re sincerely sorry. I have no excuse for our rash behaviour,” one of them pleaded, her head still lowered. “We—”

“Alright,” Mel grumbled, sinking back into the warm pool.

The helpers straightened and cast cautious glances between one another before continuing to wash Mel. Their grasps were firm, but a little more gentle that the bath felt like a massage rather than a comforting bath.

As Mel would soon discover, that was just the beginning.

Annie’s presence, later on, had been comforting and the maid had given her a short explanation about lengthy preparations running for the whole day. Mel thought back to how the servants had prepared her before boarding the Orion ship and a sense of dread filled her. The whole ordeal was far from over.

Still naked, she was directed to another chamber, barren, except for a long wooden table and other raised stools containing bowls of black rocks. She was laid on the table and her stiff muscles relaxed mere seconds into the strange procedure. Her initial alarm subsided as the helpers kneaded her flesh and massaged every corner of her body. From her neck to the soles of her feet, two pairs of hands pulled, pressed, and turned her body into a liquid mass.

Not even her mind was free from the mind-boggling sensation. It was a mess. A pleasant mess.

The motions stopped and Mel remained there in a daze. Reality snapped back to her with a blink as the warm stones were placed on her back and the heat seeped into the pores of her skin. Mel closed her eyes and her consciousness slipped from her and returned in short intervals.

“…lady…my… my lady!”

Mel flinched, snapping her eyes open.

She twitched, too lazy to turn her neck or raise her hands. “Why did you stop?” she asked weakly, blinking as Annie’s face hovered before hers.

Without answering, Annie smiled and supported Mel to a seated position, her legs dangling over the side of the narrow table.

“It remains your face. We want you to lie on your back,” Annie simply said. Her forehead creased with a worrying look and the maid averted her gaze, but Mel didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Alright.” Mel let Annie ease her onto her back and the young woman noticed there were fewer helpers in the chamber. There were four within the room, except for Annie.

One of the Grime helpers lathered a sweet-smelling syrup on her palms and the moment she pressed the cold substance to Mel’s face, she instinctively flinched at the contact and closed her eyes. Her brows suddenly creased with a frown as an odd liquid was poured on her crotch.

“What are you doing?” Mel reached up to hold the wrist of the helper massaging her face.

Annie’s voice came out weak, “Forgive us, my lady.”

“Annie?” Mel snapped her eyes open just in time for a helper to tear off the solidified wax from her skin, along with her pubic hair.

Mel let out a blood curdling scream.