Ignition
M awoke to find herself in a large bedroom. There were roughly ten men standing around the room. If she kept her eyes just slit open, maybe they wouldn't know she was awake.
Two men who looked identical were talking quietly with a handsome, like Lace, young man over by a dresser. The oddity of identical twins was immediately forgotten. That man was very pretty. Sparkling-pretty. Or the sparkles might have been in her head.
The shorter burly man she had seen at the door was talking quietly with the Frilled Man just beside a tall-thin man in glasses. The Burly man and the Frilled Man seemed to be agreeing to something the Tall-glasses man didn't like. Tall-glasses man stood with his arms folded across his chest, head tipped down and moving side to side while he repeated, “No.”
The head of a young boy poked around the door jam and made eye contact with her. The boy smiled at her. He was quickly 'shoo'-ed away.
Tall-glasses man looked after the boy and said, 'What? Oh,...” and turning to the other two. “She's awake!”
The Burly man moved quickly to her bedside. M pulled the covers tighter. The Burly man softly said, “Someone, a glass of water, please.” Turning to M, he said, “Oh child, how are you? You have given us quite the fright.”
M said, “Is this... is this MonDro?”
Visibly shocked, the burly man took a step back. He took a sharp breath, held it for a second and then it released in the form of a burbling sweet merry infectious laugh. It carried sincerity and honesty in it's tones and was loud enough to influence but quiet enough not to concern. The burly man's face became a universal smile, his whole face participated in the activity.
The burly man said, “No, child. This is not MonDro. At least I hope I am not that bad a Guild-master.” General tittering came from others in the room, not from Tall-glasses man. Gesturing around him, the Burly man continued, “This is the Royal Wood-wright's Guild of Tripitar. Purveyor of carpenter goods. We hold the King's Charter.”
One of the identical men mumbled, “Barely.”
The Burly man said, “Now, are you alright?
M thought for a second and checked herself. She said, “Ummm, I ummm... I'm just wearing my underclothes?”
The Burly man said, “Yes. I am sorry. You had.. vomited... on yourself when you fainted and, I am sorry, we had to take your dress off.” He rushed to say, “We are washing it now.”
Waiting a moment, the Burly man signalled for a chair and sat next to M. He said, “Child, what is our name?”
M said, “M, sir.”
Burly man smiled, “Oh, Emm. As in Emily? That's a pretty name!”
M said, “No, sir. Just M.”
The Frilled Man said, “They only use letters for names at the orphanage. It's standard for the child's ... 'adopters' to chose a name.”
The Burly man's smile faded a bit, but it came back when he spoke, “Could we call you Emm – for Emily? Would that be alright?”
M said, “I suppose.”
A little of the laugh returned. The Burly man said, “Wonderful. Everyone, this is our new, umm, we'll figure that out; for now, our apprentice Emily!” The men, except the tall one, all clapped politely.
Emily thought, “Apprentice? Wood?” She knew nothing at all about wood. The “for now” was ominous.
The Burly man clapped his hands, “Alright, everyone out. Emm...”, Emily could hear the “Emm” as opposed to “M”, “we put your other clothes in the bottom dresser drawer there. We are guessing your luggage will arrive later?” He looked back and forth between the Frilled Man and Emily.
Emily said, “No, sir. That's all I have. Just the two dresses, one set of night clothes and some underclothes and socks. I have five!”
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Emily was secretly proud of her sock collection. To have one pair on and one spare pair and one in the wash was a secret luxury. The extra she could wear while she was darning holes in another or use it to wrap her book.
Tall-glasses man made a “Tch!” sound and moved quickly down the hallway, out of view.
The burly man said, “All right. Well, we'll let you be. We are within earshot, if you need anything, you just call out and we will be here in a second!
“There is a pitcher of water and a basin over in that cabinet. You get yourself freshened and changed. When you are ready, come down the hall on your left and we'll do proper greetings and introductions. Hmm?”
Emily said, “How many will be staying with me in this room?”
The Burly man said, “Hmm? Others?”
Emily said, “Well, I see a standing closet for coats. That would hold coats for four or five girls. The dresser has five drawers in it. This bed could fit four, three across and one along bottom. I was thinking that since I was first to arrive, I would stake out my territory.”
As he left, the handsome man said, “She recovers quickly.”
The Burly man said, “Emm, this is your room. All of it. There won't be any more coming. That I know of anyway. We can better discuss the room later, but this is going to be your new home and this,” he gestured, “is your room.”
Stunned into silence, Emily laid back in disbelief. This whole room? For her? This would be four girl dormitories with a possible capacity of three girls each.
The orphanage could handle a maximum of eighty children but rarely had more than thirty. The children hadn't been crowded but there was always some competition for space. Even if the competition was really just something to do.
Burly man said, “There is a key in this door. Please remember to bring it with you. There is one spare and one universal and they are very expensive, so please be careful with it.
“Lock it if you like, you don't need to.
“We'll see you in a few minutes. No rush.” Burly man closed the door behind him.
Emily sat still for a moment, listening. She didn't think anyone was outside the door.
These men had had opportunities to grab her, they hadn't so far. Still, no sense in trusting when you didn't know what you could trust.
Emily “zuzzsh'd” from the very nice duvet covering, sprinted to the door and locked it. Taking the key to her chest, she spun to survey the room.
Emily's room. Her room, too! So she was sort of sharing after all.
There were no windows. So she was a prisoner.
Emily moved to the water closet and opened the full length doors. The closet itself was floor to ceiling. The exterior of the closet was a brown-orange colour mostly and had ornate mouldings and fancy patterned panels picturing the interior of the closet most remarkably.
Inside the wood panels and designs were all just as beautiful. The ceramic sink and pitcher themselves seemed to be nothing over special by comparison. Emily thought that odd. Even the mirror above seemed 'fancier' somehow.
Beside the sink a small clean hand towel hung in a ring. More towels of larger size were stacked neatly under the sink on a shelf.
Her eyes caught a strange hasp on the right hand door. She flipped it up and the door panel unfolded into a movable three panel – thing. Checking, there was a hasp on the left door too and it as well folded out into the – thing.
Then it occurred to Emily. You were meant to fold these panels around you to shield others who might be in the room from your, 'activities'.
Emily folded the panels back together – which proved easy to do – and closed the hasps again.
Emily turned her attention to the chamber pot side. She soon discovered that you could pull the entire sitting space forward about half a meter. This gave much more sitting room. Though you could make the, call it 'closed', position perform quite service-ably, it would be much more comfortable while out. Even though the seat was rather high for Emily.
Odd they would have the unit so far above the floor. Lots of tall men? Looking carefully, another small hasp was found. This opened, revealed the bottom half of space under the chamber-pot could slide forward another half meter.
They had made a step. That step created a dais.
That dais, in this cabinet, with those door panels stretched out, oh, she had to see.
Sure enough, with everything out, this was no toilet, this was a Throne!
Emily wondered, was it a statement or a joke? Surely it wasn't for her? Had they really taken time to move furniture to impress her. Or, minimally, that they had debated which room to put her in and luckily this was available?
Additionally, Emily wondered about a group of people who could create such works of beauty and yet be rather lax on the maintenance. The pot itself – had been 'cleaned'.
Emily's throne room. Emily. Emily. Emily. That was her name now.
Somehow, it didn't feel right. Like the oily feeling on your tongue from cheap syrup. Like those times you put the left shoe on the right foot. It was probably the newness.
She had been M since she could remember.
Still, the Frilled Man had been right, orphan lore said that children would often get new names from their adopters. Lore had it that there were three kinds of names, the best was like 'Emily' – a normal person name.
Second was the nickname – usually a derogatory diminutive like “Dink” designed to remind the orphan of their 'place'.
The worst, no name at all. No name meant the adopter didn't think of the child as even a servant. Those children were, unfortunate. Considering the alternatives, she could get used to Emily.
Emily crossed to the dresser. Her meagre supply of clothing occupied less than half the bottom drawer.
She wondered how she would get new clothes. Maybe that was why they needed her, a seamstress? She did know how to sew.
The orphanage had made sure to school the children in all the basic tasks a household might need so they might have some understanding and be saved a few beatings.
Beatings, she hoped there wouldn't be many. Emily had been beaten by staff and other students many times.
Emily sighed. Nothing for it. Get dressed and go face whatever was coming. The longer the delay, the greater the beating would be anyway.
Closing the drawer a bit harder than she meant, a knob on the left side broke off in her hand.
No! Stupid, stupid stupid, girl. Remember, you are a Daemon! Have to be more careful than that! This was going to get her a beating for sure!
Emily stuffed the broken knob in her extra sock.
