Free The Iron Butterfly by Chanda Hahn

must be thoroughly cleaned and aired, linens washed, silverware polished.” She slowly turned her hard gaze over everyone, making a few of the younger staff squirm in their seats. When they had enough she dismissed them, tucking her list into her pockets.
    Turning to Forrest and addressing him, she asked, “So this is the one?”
    He nodded.
    “What am I supposed to do with her?” she appealed in exasperation.
    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