3

Through well-known back passages of the keep we went, up dark staircases and down narrow servants' corridors. Even once I caught up with Holainah, it was still a challenge to keep from falling behind. Navigating stairs hadn't gotten any easier and even hurrying along on level ground was considerably more difficult than walking at a more reasonable pace. I don't know how any of the women were able to move so nimbly in those dreadful skirts.

The upper reaches of the castle where the nobles kept their quarters were considerably more open than those in the lower portions. Wide, vaulted hallways, filled with light from clerestory windows, were richly decorated in carved stone, ornate tapestries, and fine carpets. Servants were busy here as well, putting out arrangements of flowers and sweeping up dust, but their liveried uniforms made me feel even more misplaced in my drab blue dress. I'd seldom been in that part of the castle before but I was familiar enough with it to know that we ended up in the chambers of Sir Ruvano, the spymaster.

The antechamber was filled with more finery than I could have imagined. A pair of golden urns, polished to a brilliant luster, flanked a huge fireplace that at the moment sat dark and quiet. A man could live comfortably the rest his life with the money made from selling just one of those. A long carven table ran the length of the room while the faces of people long dead stared down from the ancient portraits hanging on the walls. Beyond an arched opening were the inner chambers. A four-post bed bigger than the entire chamber I shared with three others dominated the center of the room. Above it was an ornate rose window of pale blue glass that shone ethereally in the morning sun.

The rooms were more beautiful than any I had even been given the privilege of occupying my whole life, but just setting foot inside sent a shiver down my spine. As I understood it, Sir Ruvano was barely a knight, elevated from a lowly soldier by some special circumstance long ago, but his reputation as a dealer in secrets was well-earned. As a result, he commanded more respect and was cause from more fear than just about anyone else in the entire kingdom. It seemed dangerous at the very least to enter so casually into the chambers of a man like that. Holainah, however, stride right across the antechamber and into the inner rooms without so much as a pause. There we found two people.

The dark-skinned woman laying out a set of clothes on the bed I knew well. Soft, shapely, and lithe, Nikelle was one of the best fucks I'd ever had. We weren't what anyone would have called a couple -- she was far to enigmatic for that -- but we'd spent quite a few nights together and she often came back for more. If there was one person in the entire keep who I might be able to find a moment of peace with, it was her. Upon seeing us enter the room, a slight grimace flashed across her otherwise pretty face and she hastened to finish arranging a pair of clothes on top of the bed. There was always a hint of danger in her dark eyes, but at the moment it was more pronounced than usual. As she straightened herself and tipped her head respectfully to Mistress Holainah, she glanced sideways at the man before the large stand mirror.

He was tall and thin and his long hair was slicked back severely from his narrow face while a precisely trimmed mustache adorned his upper lip. After he finished tying the cravat around his neck, he straightened the jet black tunic and trousers he wore and examined his reflection with a self-satisfied smile. In the mirror, his beady eyes turned in my direction and I froze dead in my tracks. I felt death in that gaze for certain. This was the king's dreaded spymaster after all. I had just invaded his quarters without so much as a knock at the door. All I could do was stand there, staring like a mouse trapped by the stare of an owl. 

"Sir Ruvano," Holainah said by way of greeting as she dropped into a sort of walking curtsy.

That snapped me out of my momentary fright and I attempted a clumsy imitation of her bow but nearly tripped myself in the process. The thin smile which creased his lips caused my whole body to start shaking. He turned from the mirror and walked right up to me. Bowing my head in unconscious imitation of Nikelle, I stood with back rigid as I tried to stop myself from shaking.

"I don't believe I've ever seen you before," he said in a voice oily smooth. Touching my chin with the cool leather of his gloved finger, he lifted my face. Being touched like that by any man would have been bad enough, but this one in particular made me feel like I had a snake wrapping itself around me. I averted my eyes before I had to look directly into his. "And just where have you been hiding, my dear?"

"I-I'm new, sir," was all I could manage. Even that small statement made my stomach lurch. I could only hope I wouldn't throw up right there in front of him.

"Her name is Stephanie, sir," Holainah said. Just out of the corner of my eye, I could see her going about her business, straightening the clothes which Nikelle had just straightened, as if she wasn't in the presence of a potential monster. "You'll have to forgive her, she just started this morning and she's not all that bright."

"Well, intelligent or not, my dear Stephanie, your beauty more than makes up for any shortcomings you may possess."

Without thinking, I looked up and found myself staring into those dark sparkling eyes of his as he gazed back into mine. A warm tingle seemed to pass through my body then, radiating out from where he was lightly touching my chin, and pooling in my nipples and between my legs. Had he just offered me a real compliment? It was hard to imagine after all the belittling things everyone else had thrown at me all morning. Maybe his concept of beauty wasn't nearly as refined as his quarters suggested.

Suddenly, he released me, as much from his hand as from the phantom grip of his personality, and gave all three of us a sort of mock bow. "As much as I would love to stay and enjoy your company a little longer, I have business to which I must attend, even on a holiday such as this." He may have been addressing us all, but I could have sworn he was talking to me alone. "Fair thee well, my ladies," he added with a nonchalant wave over his shoulder as he strode for the door.

I couldn't believe that had just happened. Not only had I come face-to-face with Sir Ruvano, I'd actually spoken words with him and lived through it without incident. He wasn't nearly as bad as the stories made him out to be. In fact, he was actually rather charming. A stinging pain across backside brought me crashing back to the moment with a shock. With a yelp I spun to see Holainah brandishing her spoon.

"Alright, Stephie," Holainah said, "you've been just about worthless to me down in the kitchens but maybe you can be of more use up here...though I doubt it. All this needs to be perfect. However, I have more important things to worry about than babysitting you any longer. I'm going to leave you with Nikelle to show you what needs to be done. I'll be back later to check in."

"Yes, mistress," I said with bowed head as she left the room. Once she was gone I turned to Nikelle. It was going to be nice to have a friend once again. However, she stood there with arms crossed below her breasts and glaring at me with a look foreshadowing murder.

With the way she'd looked at the Sir Ruvanlo when we'd entered, she wasn't jealous of me, was she? I'd never considered us as exclusive but the thought she was interested in the spymaster caused a twinge of envy to boil up inside me as well. To my surprise, I realized that it was not directed against her, however, but rather him. Surely I couldn't have been concerned that I had competition for Ruvano's attentions, could I?

This infernal curse! It must have been affecting my brain as well as my body. I really was starting to think just like a woman. If it didn't end soon, I wouldn't even know what I was anymore.

"So, Stephanie, is it?" Nikelle said with a rolling of the eyes. "Just what I didn't need."

"I'm just...I mean, Hollainah made me...I can go away if you want..." Maybe I'd find that chance to slip away and hide yet.

Nikelle shook her head and groaned. "The damage is already done. Now come along. I'll show you what needs to be done. Just try not to mess it up."

She turned and headed for one of the side rooms and I followed. However, as I passed the mirror, I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew the shock of seeing my new self was going to be something of a shock, but nothing could have prepared me for the reflection I saw staring back at me.

Where I had imagined a dumpy and homely looking maid, I was instead a ravishing young thing that just yesterday I would have paid good money just look at. Yes, my hips were wide and my bosom excessive, but both were in perfect proportion to the rest of my slender body. Long strands of wavy gold hair fell to the middle of my back. My face was a like one of the heroines from the old stories, rounded and heart-shaped, with prominent cheeks, full lips with just a trace of poutiness, and a perfect little nose. Despite the utter bewilderment deep in my green eyes, they were still bright and sparkling, made all the more striking by the long dark lashes that fluttered like a butterfly's wings each time I blinked.

"My gods...I'm beautiful," I muttered as I ran my hands over the strange new contours of my body just to see if they were truly real. I could feel my touch through the fabric of the dress just as the reflection in the mirror did exactly the same. It was like some impossible fantasy woman who would do whatever I wanted her to -- only in this case, that fantasy woman was in fact me.

"Yes, yes, you put all the rest of us common wenches to shame," Nikelle said with hands on hips as she cast eyes skyward. "There's no need to rub it in. Now get moving, we still have a lot of work to do."

There was no way I'd ever be able to hide looking like this. Everyone on the keep would remember seeing me, no matter where I went. It was no wonder all the other women were so harsh with me -- and why all the men kept staring. This was far, far worse than if I'd simply been ugly.

The rest of the day passed in a haze that I could only liken to madness. Me and Nikelle worked tirelessly until well past noon. Even then we just barely finished before the first of the nobles began to arrive with their servants to don their finery. By the time we finally took a break, the kitchens were even more chaotic than they had been. It was something of a miracle that we were even able to find any lunch for ourselves. However, once food was secured, Nikelle vanished, leaving me to eat alone.

Of course, that was hardly out of character for her. The one woman in the entire keep I had thought might be my friend, proved to be far colder than anyone else I dealt with all day. Her manners were always distant and she said no more to me than was absolutely necessary. The only advantage to her company was that she did not constantly run me down like everyone else had. I was so drained and exhausted I didn't even think about taking the opportunity to slip away. I merely stood in a corner near a pile of barrels and tried my best to shovel that gruel down my throat without falling off my feet.

I didn't even finish before Mistress Holainah pulled me away and sent me off to tend the spits while Karrie took a break. It seemed that she hadn't yet had a chance to eat lunch. As I was coming to expect, no one cared the least that hadn't either. When she returned, I was harried on my way as fast as could be. As Mistress Holainah sent me back to polishing silverware, the two of them were already discussing how they might be able to salvage something from the mess I had made of the roasts.

Greta and Natalie had long ago been reassigned to other duties so I was left by myself for a few blessed moments to catch my breath. I concentrated intently on polishing each piece so thoroughly that even Greta would not be able to find fault, but that only got me accused of working too slowly. Later, I was tasked with helping a number of women who were folding table linens for the banquet. Though I would have sworn the ones I did looked identical to there's, they didn't consider my effort the least bit acceptable. As a result, I was treated to what felt like several hours of berating instruction from all of them about every little thing I was doing wrong.

Eventually I was sent away to the bowels of the kitchen to scrub pots. The greasy steam in the air clung to my skin like a sickening blanket. I was sweating so profusely it soaked through all the layers of my dress in under five minutes and turned my hair into a dripping, tangled mass. Not that is was all that noticeable after I'd been scrubbing for a little while with my arms submerged up to their elbows in that stinking, lukewarm water. No matter how careful I was handling those giant pots, they always managed to splash me. I could have easily lifted them with one hand had I still been a man, but they now seemed so cumbersome and unwieldy that I had to carry them with both arms wrapped all the way around.

Soon I was drenched so badly I could feel water pooling in my narrow boots. My dress clung to me like a heavy, unyielding second skin that was constantly threatening to drag me down -- or at the very least drag itself right off my shoulders. As the weight gradually pulled it lower, I could feel the swooping neckline creeping closer and closer to my nipples. I could only image the horror and embarrassment I would face to exposed like that. None of the other women I was working with seemed to be having similar problems and so, for a time, I tried desperately to avoid such a fate, constantly tugging at the dress and trying to pull it back into position. 

Eventually, it became more trouble than it was worth. I buried myself in the work with little concern for anything else. My hands were shriveled and sore, my back aching. It was grueling work but at least it kept my mind off other things. Time crawled along but at least I couldn't remember how long I'd actually been there. It seemed ages since I'd been sent down into that little hell, but eventually the trickle of fresh pots began to slow and replaced by delicate porcelain plates, pewter serving platters, and the same fancy silverware I'd been busy polishing earlier in the day.

The voices of the other servants in the adjoining rooms slowly grew more boisterous and cheerful. As I continued scrubbing, others began walking through from time to time, munching on leftovers from the banquet. Laughing, they often singled out the other women (who were somehow still in high spirits after hours of this backbreaking labor), dance with them for a time, offer them a few bites of food or a sip of wine, and then prance out again.

When the washing duties finally slowed to such a point that it no longer took all of us to keep up, Mistress Holainah came and reassigned us one at a time to other cleanup duties. I, of course, was the last one to leave, but only after a thorough report of how poorly I'd performed all day. Instead of being given some other arduous task to perform, I was told to take a break, get something to eat, and relax.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I passed a window and saw that it was dark outside. I knew I'd been down in that dungeon for a long time, but I'd never suspected that it was that late. In the kitchens, cleaning was still underway but it was mixed with equal parts revelry. I was too weary to even think about joining in. I gathered up a few cold scraps of what little remained from the feast and found a seat for myself on the stone steps that went down to the courtyard.

It was a warm night but after the inferno of the kitchens, the air was frigid against my soaked clothes and my skin grew sticky and clammy. I sat there in the dark for a long time just thankful to be off my aching feet. Though I was famished, I got through only a tiny portion of the food I'd grabbed before I was so full I couldn't even think about finishing. As a man I would have cleaned off an entire platter if given the chance.

At least the day was over. I could hear the festivities going on down in the village and similar activities where just beginning in the bowels of the servant's quarters. I'd lived through enough of these festivals to know that those parties would last well into the night and likely into the next morning as well. Now was my chance to get away. Only this time it wouldn't be to hide, but rather to find Master Oringel and have him change me back to normal. I'd put up with this humiliation long enough.

Standing with determination, I was happy to find that my dress had dried considerably. That, along with the meal and the fine rest I'd had, filled me with a new sense of resolve. Yes, enough was enough. I stormed back into the kitchens, put my plate down with the other dirty dishes, and headed for the inner keep. It was time to bring this madness to an end. Just as I passed through the door, I came face-to-face with a howling crowd of liveried servants who were rushing down the hall in the opposite direction.

Before I could even get out of their way, they were upon me. There was nothing I could do to protect myself against them. It was like try to stand up to a tidal wave. However, instead of being pushed under and crushed beneath their feet, I found myself lifted into the air and carried along with them.

So sudden had it all been that it took me a moment to realize that one of the men had picked me up around the waist in his vise-like grip and thrown me across his shoulder. Those around me hooted with laughter and offered me drinks from their cups but all their drunken antics did were splash me with wine and soak my dangling hair. The one who carried me laughed the loudest, especially when he began spanking me right on my upturned bottom.

That was quite enough for me and I thrashed about trying to break free. However, my strength was no match for his and all I ended up doing was kicking my heels in the air, beating harmlessly on his back with my frail feminine fists, and screaming at the top of my lungs like a little girl. Eventually we descended into the servants' quarters where almost all of the commoners employed by the castle had already gathered and were well on their way to thoroughly enjoying themselves. At last I was finally deposited back on the ground by the rowdy mob. They surrounded me for a few brief moments while the one who'd carried me clamped a hand around my neck and pulled me in to deliver a sloppy kiss right on my lips.

It was over before I even knew what was happening. In fact, I couldn't recall anything about it other than the lingering taste of cheep wine on my lips afterward. However, I reacted in the only way I could think of: I drew back my fist and let fly. But as it struck across his jaw, it was I who was left incapacitated with pain and he who laughed. His friends cheered him for his boldness and the whole mob moved off again just as quickly as they'd appeared. As they surged around me, however, I was thrown back and forth as I felt more than one of them pinch my ass or brush past my breasts just a little too forcefully.

I drew the back of my throbbing hand across my lips and spat the taste of that man's foul mouth out onto the floor. This little detour had cost me precious minutes and bit more of my dignity, but I would not allow it to delay me any further.

"So, your name is Sophie, right?" I heard someone say.

"Stephanie!" I barked as I whirled on him. Just when had I become so possessive of my new name? It wouldn't have been so bad if they could have just gotten it right.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw that it was Griffith. He was flanked on either side by Nathen and Geoff, two more of my cohorts from the stables. Like before, they were all three staring at me like wolves sizing up their prey. Only this time I knew why it was they were staring at me like that. It made my skin crawl. I had to get out of there.

"Excuse me," I said. "I really must be going."

"Please," Griffith said, grabbing hold of my arm. It was like being locked in a shackle. If he didn't want to let go, there would no way for me to get away for him. "I saw you earlier, I just wanted to talk to you for a moment. Would you like a drink?"

"No, I don't -- "

Geoff snatched up a full mug of beer from one of the nearby tables and pressed it into my hands, spilling a goodly portion right down the front of my dress. I cried out with one of those too-feminine shrieks as the icy cold and effervescent liquid ran down between my breasts and under my corset.

"Oh, so sorry about that," Geoff said, smiling. Knowing that bastard he'd probably done it on purpose.

"Here, let me give you a hand," Nathen said as he stepped forward with a towel that he proceeded to rub across my breasts. The way he was smiling, he was probably doing that on purpose as well.

I drew back my hand for another punch, but remembered the way it stung after the last time. Instead, I left it open and slapped him with all my might. To my surprise, It didn't hurt nearly as bad, but from the stunned look on Nathen's face, it must have been quite effective nonetheless. Griffith and Geoff both laughed, sputtering on their own mugs of ale.

"Come on now Steph, just one drink, that's all we're asking for," Griffith said.

Unfortunately, I'd hung out with Griffith often enough to know that's not all he wanted. In fact, a quick glance around the room revealed a number of eyes staring at me that were all likely thinking the exact same thing. A new girl in the keep was always an open invitation for all the men to try their luck with her. After all the rumors of Stephanie's proclivities that had no doubt circulated all day, they probably thought they had a better than average chance with me.

Thinking back to all the times I'd failed to win a girl's eye in this game, I tried to remember the best tactic to get away from them. Usually a girl would string you along until she got a beer or two out of you. Then, when your guard was down, she'd excuse herself, never to return. I looked around at the three men penning me in. If I tried to run, it would only make good sport for them.

"Very well, just one drink." I put on my best smile (which I knew looked forced), raised the mug to my lips, and took a long swig. All three of them cheered triumphantly and ushered me into a seat as they found chairs for themselves as well.

When I next saw Master Oringel, he was a dead man.