At Her Service

Excerpt

At Her Service
K.S. Trenten © 2025
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

One Ariella Too Many

I’ll never forget the first time my mistress offered me her hand.

“Every woman should dance once.” She hadn’t been my mistress yet. She was my stepsister, a bewitching girl with sapphire-blue eyes and a husky voice.

No, the other Ariella’s voice was more than husky. I could feel every syllable caressing the inside of my ear. Nor did the sensation stop there. The sound glided down my spine, raising the hairs of my neck, awakening my entire body.

“Shall I show you how, Ariella?” She kept her strong fingers steady, ready to catch and claim me.

Shy, uncertain, I dared to raise my hand to touch hers.

“Ariella, stay away from that girl!” Harsh as the caw of a crow, those words stopped us where we stood.

Ariella stiffened, turning to face its owner at the same moment as I did.

The lady of the chateau wasn’t a tall woman, but her presence loomed within the room, ready to quell anyone who dared to irritate her.

I could already tell I more than irritated her.

“Ariella was only showing me how to dance…” I began, trailing off when I saw the expression in my stepmother’s eyes. How could she look so much like Ariella herself, yet be so different?

“You will address my daughter as the Lady Ariella.” The lady of the chateau spoke in a tone as cold and flat as her eyes. “This is not your home, not anymore. You may no longer dance around as if you owned it.”

“Mother…” Ariella began, but her mother cut her off.

“This is our ancestral estate, the Lady Ariella’s and mine.” She advanced upon me, raising one hand in a claw. It reminded me of a chicken who’d once challenged a hound dog for dominion over a pile of sand. The chicken had won.

“Even if your ancestor managed to steal this chateau from ours, we have taken it back.” She kept her hand raised, a ring flashing upon it. It may have once belonged to my mother, but she hadn’t worn it very often.

“Isn’t it my father’s estate?” Frightened as I was, I hadn’t learned yet not to contradict the lady. “Aren’t you only here because my father married you?”

She struck me, a sharp, glancing blow which might have been no more than a slap to a sturdier woman.

I had never been particularly sturdy. I was tiny, overimaginative, and lacking in a sense of balance.

The lady’s strike knocked me off my feet. I hit the ground in an ungraceful pile at the lady’s own.

“How dare you!”

I’ll never forget the angry snarl that distorted her face. What she’d constrained within her eyes and pinched lips had finally been set free.

I crawled to my knees, not getting up. It seemed better to stay down. One glance at the lady’s twisted, quivering mouth was enough to convince me. I covered my head with my hands.

No, I’ve never been particularly brave. I try to avoid conflict. I suppose I’m like my father in this.

Submitting didn’t appease my stepmother. She raised her hand. Perhaps she meant to hit me again once she’d grabbed my hair, pulling me up to the level of her fist.

“Mother, stop.” Ariella’s husky voice rose with a firm authority I’d never heard her use.

I opened my eyes to glimpse her ankles peeking out from under the hem of a dark-blue skirt.

They were pale, bony, but there was a strength to them. They were planted on the floor between the lady and myself, drawing energy from beneath her heels. I could feel it, traveling up her legs to her torso, heart, and head. The shape of the bone protruding from her ankles reminded me of a rock jutting out from the coastline, standing in proud defiance of the coming waves.

I wanted to grab her ankles, kiss her feet, to give her whatever I could to help her withstand her mother’s rage. Or anything else that might crash against her.

Not that I could do any of those things while huddled on the floor.

“Ariella is right,” the Lady Ariella said. Yes, we all had the same name. Once upon a time. “How can you say this is not her home? Her father lives here. She grew up here.”

“Why are you defending her, Ariella?” The lady of the chateau paused, sounding hurt, even betrayed. “The only reason she grew up here is because of her father, my husband.”

This was true. My father inherited the chateau from his father under somewhat dubious circumstances. Nor was he taking particularly good care of the estate. Papa was inclined toward expensive hobbies. He would likely only extricate himself from them when it was too late and our resources were depleted.

“The sole reason my husband lives here is because his ancestor stole it from mine.” The lady’s eyes glittered with righteous wrath.

She no longer saw me. She no longer saw her daughter. The lady was consumed by the vision of the “grand injustice” against her ancestor. It made her voice rise with dramatic force.

“You and I, Ariella, are the true Ariellas, the direct descendants of the first Ariella.” She raised a fist to shake at the immensity of this injustice. “The rightful owner of this chateau until her uncle charmed her father into disinheriting her.”

In spite of my fear, I was a little impressed. I couldn’t help listening, taking in every word when my stepmother spoke. What a stage performer she might have been!

Only ladies didn’t perform. At least not on stage.

“I know, Mother.” I might have been impressed, but Ariella was not. I could almost hear her rolling her eyes. “You’ve told me this story countless times.”

“Clearly not enough!” The lady stabbed a finger with a forceful timing which made me flinch. “This girl’s ancestor stole everything from us. Give her half a chance, and she’ll steal your name from you.”

“She has as much right to it as I do, Mother.” Ariella didn’t move. “Her mother gave it to her, just as you gave me mine.” A hint of the same rocky force in her ankles entered her words. “You do remember her mother, don’t you? You were very fond of her until she married the lord of this chateau.”

“Just one more thing he took from me.” The genuine grief in the lady’s voice softened her fury, punctuated by a ragged cough.

For a moment I just watched her trying to breathe, only to wheeze. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her.

I might have liked her, given time. If only she would allow me to. My father had managed to wheedle her into showing a gentler side. She was never less than courteous toward him, for all she detested him.

“I won’t have this girl taking advantage of you the way her ancestor took advantage of ours.” The lady forced the words out, wagging a finger in her daughter’s face.

“She won’t.” Ariella reached out to touch her mother’s arm but kept herself between the lady and me.

I felt the silent message in the way she twitched her ankle. Go. Get out of here while I calm her down.

I scuttled out on all fours and dashed downstairs to the kitchen. It was the one area of her chateau the lady never entered. She always summoned servants to the drafty rooms above. She considered this area beneath her.

Some of the kitchen staff considered it beneath me, too, for I got quite a few startled looks. I crouched in the cinders in the hearth, enjoying their warmth. I even rubbed some of them on myself.

The looks became stares, but I was still the lord’s daughter. No, what I was doing wasn’t proper. But no one would say anything. It wasn’t a servant’s place to question me either.

Not that it remained our servants’ place for long. Due to all the debts my father had accrued, the lady of the chateau was forced to let most of the staff go. Only Claude, her most loyal servant, stayed at her side, trying to manage what was left.

“Why didn’t you let me know you’d borrowed this much money?” my stepmother wailed, waving a note under my father’s nose. “Why didn’t you tell me you owed this much to Sir Bounderbust for what? Dachshund racing?!”

“Hah, hah. The young prince can’t resist those wiener-dog races! The court simply had to accompany him to the latest. It turns out they’re rather fun. Costly, but fun.” My father let out a weak chuckle, only to start coughing. “I didn’t want to worry your pretty head with all this, dear.”

“Costly isn’t something you can afford.” My stepmother clenched her skirts, fingers digging into the material. “Why didn’t you let me know you had so many debts?”

“Why, I didn’t want to worry you about that either.” My father patted her hand before withdrawing his. “You seemed so happy to come live in my chateau. I didn’t want to spoil a young bride’s giddiness with the overwhelming responsibilities which accompany this estate.”

“I am neither young nor giddy,” the lady growled. “I won’t be overwhelmed. My ancestors ruled this estate long before yours occupied it.”

“Did they now?” My father blinked, fluttering his eyelashes ever so delicately. “I’m certain they were fine folks, but they could have made a few renovations. You must have noticed how drafty the rooms are here.”

“I noticed,” the lady said through gritted teeth, suppressing another cough which threatened to come, invoked by mention of the chill. “My ancestors kept detailed records of this estate. They managed to economize and thrive, in spite of the drafts.”

“How very admirable.” Father reached out to pat his wife’s hand, which was clenching her skirt. “I think my father told me about the fine ladies who once ran this estate before it became too much for them. One in particular. What was her name?”

“Ariella,” the lady said in a carefully controlled voice. “Her name was Ariella, the same as mine and my daughter’s. The same as your daughter’s…dear.”

“Ah, whatever. I do get confused by all these female names. No need to fret, my dear.” Father patted his wife’s hand again.

“I am not fretting. Nor am I overwhelmed or confused.” The lady released her skirt, drawing herself up with haughty pride. “I am not bothered by drafts, debts, nor any other obstacles facing this chateau.”

“So glad to hear it.” Father leaned back against his cushions, closing his eyes in a show of exhaustion.

I knew better. I’d seen the slight gleam in them.

I wondered if his wife had caught it. Perhaps she was too caught up in her vision of the grand injustice. Settling the debts of the chateau and enduring the drafts was another way of showing how capable she was—far more capable than her fool of a husband, the descendent of the usurper.

My father was counting on this. I was sure. His next words confirmed my thinking.

“I know I can be muddleheaded, which is why I’m so glad I have someone as clever as you to help me take care of things.” Oh, there was a definite note of self-satisfaction in his frail tone, right before he let out a delicate sniff. “Pass me my cup, please. There’s a dear.”

This was very typical of my father. He was far too muddleheaded to remember his debts or to attend to anything. Especially if he could get someone else to do these things.

Once upon a time, it had been my mother. When she’d died, I’d tried to step into her shoes without much success.

My stepmother was a lot better at managing the estate and my father than either my mother or I had been. She was certainly confident about her capabilities. Why wouldn’t she be? She’d been clever to convince the weak-willed man living in her ancestral home to marry her, making her mistress of everything she’d been robbed of.

This was exactly as my father had hoped. He’d been clever to marry someone ambitious and energetic enough to take care of everything he fancied himself too weak to bother with.

I was going to be clever too. Clever enough to keep out of their cleverness.

Alas, we were all too clever for our own good.

The lady got her ancestral home back, fulfilling her dream of reclaiming it. When a dream comes true, it becomes uncomfortably real. My stepmother’s dream realized was a chateau she’d always wanted, coming with drafts, debts, and an irresponsible husband.

Ariella’s mother would never admit to any of this. She was far too proud. It was better to care for my father, to take on the full burden of the estate, rather than surrender any power over it.

My father was happy to lay back and surrender. I’m not sure how happy he truly was. He became a complete invalid after his second marriage.

The few servants who remained muttered about his lady wife not being conducive to good health. Nothing had been conducive to my father’s good health. He had a delicate condition, one he never failed to remind everyone of. He did little about it, preferring to let others do things for him. Happiness seemed less important than taking every opportunity to lament, fret, and fuss over anything which disturbed his fragile tranquility.

I’d always been one of those things. Now that Ariella was his stepdaughter, she added to his distress.

“Why aren’t you painting watercolors?” he whined, making a feeble twitch. “Why, when I was younger than you, I started learning. I now have quite the collection.”

The conversation turned into a monologue about the faded paintings hanging on the wall in expensive frames.

My stepmother tried to smile, nod, and not wince. She failed.

Ariella kept herself seated upright, very stiff, but I could tell she was bored out of her mind.

I made a small noise behind the door.

Ariella turned ever so slightly in my direction.

She knew I was there. She seemed to be able to feel whenever I was near. The thought gave me a delightful shiver.

The movement made me bump against the door, interrupting my father’s long-winded memory on his skill in capturing a violet in flower. When he noticed me standing behind the door in all my dustiness, he did a double take.

“Who is this urchin? Get her away from me!” He waved his hands toward me, nose wrinkling in defensive disgust. “Shoo!”

“It’s your daughter, dear,” my stepmother informed him with great satisfaction. My new habit of rolling about in the cinders might distress my father, but it didn’t displease her. “Clearly her breeding leaves much to be desired.”

“Clearly her stepmother has been doing little to improve her!” he vented with a surprising show of force. “Clean this girl up immediately.”

“Ariella, see that this girl is cleaned up.” The lady turned to the reason I’d been standing behind the door in the first place.

Ariella was more than happy to oblige. She rose to her feet, leaving the room to escort me away with all due speed.

“Thank you,” she murmured under her breath. “You rescued me.”

“As you once rescued me,” I whispered back. “A pity you have no cinders to escape to.”

For a moment, Ariella’s mother watched us with narrowed eyes.

“Dusty!” My father made the complaint in a half cough. “Get them to shut the door after them, dear. Your daughter is making me ill with all the dust clinging to her servant’s clothes.”

Any delight at his stubborn insistence that I was a servant turned into outrage at her husband’s suggestion that her daughter had anything to do with the dust.

He stopped my stepmother’s objections with another cough, which she echoed, twice as loud.

Ariella closed the offending door before our parents could say anything else, making sure we were on the other side. We started walking down the hall, away from Father’s room.

We didn’t stop walking until Ariella reached out to touch my arm.

“Cinders,” she uttered with a slow, almost seductive intonation. She looked me up and down with those wondrous sapphire eyes. “Take care about rolling around in the cinders or that nickname will stick.”

“Please.” I met her eyes. “There are too many Ariellas on the estate already and I’m one Ariella too many. Besides I like the cinders. I’m happy to be associated with them.”

“You’re a very strange girl…Cinders.” She took me down the hall to her own chamber. It was as drafty as the rest of the upper rooms of the chateau but it was filled with her scent. “Don’t you want the chateau for yourself?”

I waited, breathing in her warmth, the slight sheen of sweat mingled with flowers. I wasn’t sure if it was hers or mine.

She carried a basin of water in a delicate porcelain dish covered with rose petals. I didn’t remember ever seeing it before. She or her mother must have brought it.

“It can be very cold, especially when people don’t want you around.” Perhaps these words were too blunt but Ariella nodded. She knelt at my feet and squeezed the rag within the dish before beginning to dab my face with it.

Being so close to her made me breathless. I almost forgot what I was saying.

“Go on.” She sounded a little breathless herself. Her face was inches from my own. “Why don’t you want the chateau?”

“It seems a lot of trouble for all the fuss that’s made over it.” I looked directly into her eyes. “If your mother wants it so badly, why should I stop her?”

Ariella chuckled, yet she bowed her head in acknowledgment. “You’re a lot wiser than you let on, Cinders.”

“I wouldn’t mind being a simple servant, able to sit in the cinders.” Once more I caught the lady’s gaze. “Not if you’re my mistress, my Lady Ariella.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Cinders.” She let out a smoky chuckle, which sent shivers down my body. “If you decide you’re at my service, I may decide to keep you.”

“If so, I’ll be as careless and clumsy as I can,” I vowed, but I blushed and ducked my head. I couldn’t keep meeting her hot, sapphire gaze.

This coaxed another smoldering laugh from her.

And so I became Cinders.