The King's Lover
Chapter 21: Nobody Likes A Blabbermouth

Chapter 21: Nobody Likes A Blabbermouth

"Nobody likes a blabbermouth," Martha said and picked up Rose’s bowl of soup.

The meetup with the Queen at the courtyard had ended a while ago, but this was the first time she had seen Martha since then. Now that Martha had appeared in front of her, it was safe to assume that Henry spoke to them and from Martha’s reaction, she didn’t like what he told her.

Rose gave Martha an unimpressed look. All she had done was ask for a bed. She turned her attention to the bowl—she was more interested in getting some food into her stomach than anything Martha might want to do or say. The maids sitting at the same table all lifted their heads from their meals to watch. Rose could tell they were entertained and wanted to see where this would go.

"Did you hear me?" Martha asked when Rose didn’t answer.

Rose simply nodded and stretched out her hand for her bowl. She didn’t have time for this. She knew they were going to give her even more chores now that Henry had spoken to them, but at least let her eat something first.

Martha laughed. "What do you think this is?"

Rose knew what was going to happen even before it did and wondered if she should have begged. She was that hungry, but she knew better than to encourage their bullying—mostly Martha’s. The other maids just laughed, snickered and made a lot of snide comments, she could handle all that.

Martha tilted the plate, pouring the soup onto the ground. Some splattered on the table and onto Rose’s clothes. "You’re nothing more than a whore! Clean this up." She dropped the bowl on the ground. It made a clang that echoed in the hall before Martha walked out of the kitchen. f.r(e)e\webn.ovel.co\m

Rose sighed and looked around. Everyone turned their gaze away. She glanced at the cook, but the woman wouldn’t meet her eyes. Rose knew not to bother—they wouldn’t give her more food. She pushed herself from the table. She had to clean the mess.

Rose gathered the ends of her dress and scooped as much as she could with the spoon into the bowl. She needed a piece of rag and water to wipe up the rest. She was about to stand to her full height when something hit her head and fell to the ground—a brush. fre eweb\(n)ovel(.)co(m)

"While you’re at it, might as well scrub the kitchen clean. You made a mess."

Rose looked up and then around. She sighed loudly enough for all of them to hear. She picked up the bowl, slowly stood to her full height, and walked past Martha. But the maid wasn’t having it. She grabbed Rose’s arm tightly and pulled her back.

Rose didn’t budge. She might not look it, but her father didn’t have a son who could help him move the wood he worked with, which meant Rose had done some heavy lifting. Compared to a maid who probably only attended to the Queen, Rose wasn’t worried if a fight broke out.

Martha’s eyes widened, and she tried again, but she couldn’t move Rose an inch. "I said you should scrub the floor," she barked, trying to regain control of the situation.

Rose didn’t speak at first, just stared at her, but Martha wouldn’t meet her gaze. "I ’eard ye. Except ye want me to use the soup to clean it, I am goin’ to get some water."

Martha let go of her hand, and Rose walked past her a little too closely, their shoulders brushing. She noticed no one laughed when she spoke. She could tolerate some of it, but she needed the maids to know there was a limit, and she wasn’t to be trifled with.

By the time Rose was done with the floor, it was already noon. She had been lied to—no one scrubbed the floor. She had thought the ground was just darker, but no. It was coal and grime. Rose scrubbed until her knuckles and knees hurt. At least they didn’t bleed, but her knuckles were so sore by the time she was done that she couldn’t even make a fist.

The annoying part was, she was satisfied with her work. A few maids had come through while she was still scrubbing, and she could see their approval. Right now, the floor sparkled. Rose stood with her hands on her waist, staring at the floor with a smile on her face. She needed to wash herself from head to toe, and she needed a change of clothes.

"Wow!" a voice said, and Rose turned to see Edna at the doorway. The petite woman looked impressed. "I have never seen the kitchen look so clean."

Rose didn’t reply to this. "Can I get new clot’es?" she asked.

"Of course. I will even show you to your room."

Rose nodded and stepped out of the kitchen, taking the brush and bucket with her. She was about to return them, but Edna stopped her.

"Just drop them in front. Someone will take care of it."

Rose didn’t hesitate. She dropped the bucket of dirty water and followed Edna. They walked down the brighter hallway, passing through several doors. They didn’t stop walking until they reached a room near the end of the path.

Edna pushed a door open. It creaked a little as it swung, and Rose was greeted with a small room. It was ironic that she thought it was small, considering it was almost the size of the main room in her father’s house.

"You and Martha will share this room. It used to be mine and hers, but Martha can be too much sometimes, so I decided to stay with the other girls. Mistress Edith doesn’t mind, and Martha likes having a room to herself, but I don’t know about now. Never mind. You can also use that bed."

Rose turned to the direction Edna pointed. It was a rolled-up hay bed, but it was just like the one back home. Rose had to fight the urge to unroll it and lay down, but she was happy to know there would be somewhere for her to sleep later.

"Thank ye," Rose mumbled.

"You don’t have to thank me," Edna said. "We haven’t been exactly very nice. As for clothes, I will ask around. I’m sure I’ll find something you can use. For now, wear this."