As in on cue I looked up to see my step-mother standing at my door way. She wasn't a tall woman or an extremely beautiful one, but there was something about the way she held herself and the set of her jaw line that demanded peoples attention. As soon as Camellia and I felt her presence in the room we both froze in mid flight ...or in Camellia's case mid flight and mid word. Her mouth still shaped to form a very vulgar word, Camellia turned to facer her mother. Quickly composing her self, she marched over to her mothers side and started nagging at her to do something about me. Silencing her daughter with a swift wave of her hand my step-mother turned to face me.

“Alana .. what is this?” she asked in that cold and icy voice of hers, “I asked you to do one simple little task and you couldn't even get that one right. Didn't I specifically tell you to air Camellia's dress out and lay it out on her bed?” I turned my face towards the floor and clasped my hands in front of me. “Yes...” I replied trying to keep the vexation out of my voice. Numerous other run ins with my “mother dearest” had taught me that any sign of emotion only served to intensify the punishment I'd receive later. “Yes what?” my step-mother asked her voice dipping lower in a mensing manner. For seemingly petite and kind woman, at least in the eyes of popular society, the malicious energy around her was almost admirable. “Yes Ma'am” I replied grudgingly. I'd have been much happier calling her the “Wicked Witch” or “Evil Step Mother”, but common sense told me that infuriating my step-mother further was not the wisest course of action.

“And did you do as I asked?” my step – mother continued. At this point I looked up from the floor and into her eyes , “Yes Ma'am ” I replied , “ I aired out Camellia's dress and I also placed it on her bed.” From the tightening of her mouth, I could tell my step-mother wasn't exactly happy with my smart ass reply. “Very well... if you don't want to own up to what you've done to the dress you'll just have to pay the price,” she informed me gathering her skirt up in her hands and turning to leave, “ Do supper tonight and make sure Camellia's dress is as good as new before we get home.”

I was prepared for this sort of punishment.. my step-mother seemed to enjoy depriving me of food. Camellia how ever was not satisfied with her mother's punishment “But Mommy!” she pleaded, “She ruined the dress! My favorite one! The little monster has to be punished Mommy!” Bitch I thought under my breath I AM being punished! Alright ... so not exactly the worst punishment or the most thought out ( After all the cook IS my old nurse which makes it pretty easy for me to get bits and pieces of food when I get hungry) but a punishment non the less. My step-mother thought adored her daughter, and anything Camellia wanted she got .. including a more dramatic punishment for me.

“Alright Camellia dear,” she said briskly, “What sort of punishment do you want to give Alana?” I watched as Camellia's brow wrinkled in concentration. As the seconds ticked away at became minutes I was happy to note that apparently Camellia's private lessons with her foreign tutors hadn't done anything to solve her... intellect problem. You see Camellia is a prime example of “good looks...and not much else going for the poor girl” syndrome. She had the ability to make a man trip and stumble over his words with just a single glance his way, but things like say... words, math, and generally just life confused her. Obviously Camellia's lack of intellect was something very amusing to me. She might have gotten the better looks, loving (though evil) parent, and my bedroom, but at least I got the functioning brain.

Eventually when even my step-mother's patience had begun to run thin, Camellia had a light bulb moment by her standards, a stroke of pure genius. Turning to her mother she said, “Mommy make Alana come with me to court for my first season! Make her come as my..” She paused her to giggle slight under her breath before continuing, “...maid!” Camellia, still giggling to herself, clapped her hands together obviously over joyed that she'd managed to think of such a punishment for me. Internally I cringed. I'd heard enough tales from the personal attendants of some of the more “well-breed” family's daughters to know that going to court was no picnic for any maid.

I've always felt they should just calling “going to court” what it really is... “going to hunt for a husband”. Not just any husband of course ... someone of higher social rank then you who made a substantial amount of money and had at least two houses. Love had nothing to do with “going to court” in fact love would work in your disadvantage if you fell for the wrong man. No... going to court was purely business. The season consisted of four mothers of balls and parties, horse carriage rides through picture perfect gardens, and heightened hopes for marital (or financial) bliss for the young noble women, but non stop orders for their heired help.

“Or in my case enslaved help,” I thought, sure that my step-mother would approve of Camellia's request. To my surprise she replied instead with “ Camellia dear, Mommy would love to send that wretched girl away with you to act as your little ... maid, but Rupert says he won't allow it.” was delighted and slightly disturbed to hear that Rupert, my father, was 1. at least aware of my existence but 2. not disturbed that his step-wife thought it normal to ask him if her daughter could keep his daughter as a servant. “Instead..” my step-mother continued obviously disgusted by the news she was about to deliver, “He insists that his unsightly, disrespectful, pathetic excuse for a woman daughter also takes part in this coming season.”

The surprise I'd felt at the proof that my father still remember my existence was nothing to the shock I received upon hearing that I was to take part in the season with Camellia. While I wouldn't mind having the nice gowns and roomy bedchamber that went along with a season at court, they weren't motivation enough to make mer forget the main objective of the season... to find a husband ASAP.

The idea of being dolled up and then sold of like some sort of piece of meat didn't exactly fill my heart with the kind of joy it seemed to with Camellia. Collecting my thought's quickly I caught my step- mothers eye ,watching as a smirk spread across her face. She continued to talk, “ I'm not that fond of you my dear and nothing in this world would thrill me more than to send you off and have you married to some low life scum bag within the year. The only reason I'm not jumping up and down with joy at the moment is that your father insists that you and Camellia travel together and above all else share a maid! The man knows nothing!”

Even I had to admit that my father showed lack of judgment... if I was going to be forced to go under his mandate the least he could do was not force me to have any more contact with Camellia then necessary! Of course I'd resist going for as long as possible but, knowing my usual tendencies it wouldn't be long before I was talked, wrestled, and eventually made to agree to go.