Slave to Sapphire

The following day the kitchens were sweltering from the heat of the ovens as the staff rushed to get lunch ready. Penelope added a pinch of salt to her signature seafood stew; octopus tentacles and muscles bounced into each other in the boiling broth as she stirred. Iris bit back a curse when she burned her fingers on the fresh bread she pulled from the oven.

“Move your asses everyone! Lunch is to be served in ten minutes! I will not have the Guild Masters wait!” Penelope shouted, the steam from her soup and her yelling turned her face an angry shade of red.

A servant girl with dark curly hair tamed into a bun and dressed in the fine clothes of the wait staff approached Penelope, wringing her hands. “Miss Penelope?” her voice wavered slightly.

“Out with it, girl!”

“One of our serving girls just became ill and fainted. So, we are down a server for the luncheon. I was sent to see if you could spare a kitchen maid to help serve lunch for the Guild Masters meeting?”

Penelope scanned the kitchen, her eyes stopping on Iris. “You can take Iris.” Penelope grunted, nodding towards Iris. “There is no time for her to change but I will have someone get her a fresh apron.”

The serving girl swept a judgmental look over Iris. “Do exactly as I say. This is an important lunch. The Guild Masters only meet quarterly to discuss business.”

Iris returned her judgmental stare. “You don’t have to worry about me, I will do as you say.” Someone handed Iris a clean apron and she replaced her dirty one with it.

“Hurry up and follow me. They will be just sitting down now,” The serving girl said over her shoulder to Iris.

Iris followed her through the Palace to where the luncheon was being held. The young woman led Iris into a staging room where wait staff were plating salads and pouring soup into delicate porcelain bowls. “Just do everything as I do, don’t speak, or draw attention to yourself. We are doing our job correctly when they forget that we are here.” She picked up a crystal pitcher and handed it to Iris. Iris grasped the pitcher; it was filled with a peach-colored juice with pink flowers floating on the surface.

The young woman lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, smoothed out any wrinkles in her dress and picked up the other pitcher. One of the men on staff opened the door for them to enter where the guests were seated. Iris put her head down and stuck close to her. The room was spacious but felt cramped with the long table that stretched down the center. The table was covered with a white tablecloth and decorated with flowers in shades of pink and yellow. The afternoon sun lit the room through the doors that had been left open to the garden. The room was filled with the voices of the men and the few women that lined the table. They were richly dressed in dark suits and fine gowns, and they laughed and debated with one another.

Iris scanned the table, stopping when she met Ezekiel’s blue eyes. His eyes widened and he gave her a small smile before continuing on with his conversation. Iris tried to copy the movements of the young woman who had brought her here, filling the second glass to the right of each guest one third of the way full with the juice she carried. She tried to keep herself from touching Ezekiel when she bent to fill his glass. Ezekiel was facing away from her but he still managed to brush his hand against hers as she poured the juice into his glass. Her hand tingled with his touch. She moved away from him with his glass only one fourth of the way filled.

Iris continued moving down her half of the table; she froze at another familiar face across the table. Horatio. She had spied on him several times while he conducted business at the port before she had visited him in his cliffside mansion. He was dressed in a deep blue suit that was almost black, the color complemented his dark complexion. If he wasn’t such a horrible human being, Iris might have thought he was handsome. He didn’t acknowledge Iris’ presence. Iris reminded herself that it had been too dark in his room that night for him to recognize her. She broke her stare before Horatio could notice. Iris glanced at Ezekiel and saw that he was watching her with a thoughtful look. She finished pouring the juice and returned to the staging area.

Iris was shaken by Horatio’s presence; she should have predicted that he would be there. It was too late now to think of an excuse to get out of the task of serving lunch. She just needed to keep calm, there was no way for him to connect the shadowy figure that had shot him with a crossbow to a Palace serving girl. Some of the guests had given her curious glances when they saw her eyes but most of them ignored her. Except for Ezekiel.

“Iris! Stop daydreaming about Sir Ezekiel and get the salad.” Iris picked up two plates of salad that the young woman had gestured towards.

“I don’t know how you two know each other but you need to stop flirting with him and focus on serving the salad. Once the salad has been served, we will wait for them to finish, clear the plates and bring out the next course.”

“I am not flirting with him.” Iris protested but the woman had already left, her arms loaded with plates of salads. Iris managed to only carry three plates of salad before she left. Serving fancy luncheons was not a skill she had acquired. All the guests had been given their salad and Iris stood next to the serving woman waiting. Iris kept her eyes focused on the ground; she didn’t want to be accused of flirting with anyone else.

The multiple conversations of the guests merged into one.

“My wife will not stop complaining about the stench that comes from Scarlet Town when the wind blows from the east. It will only get worse in the summer,” complained a man with ruddy cheeks and a stomach that pushed up against the table.

“If you were a better businessman and made the weavers guild more profitable, then you could afford to buy your wife a house farther away from Scarlet Town.”

“If Scarlet Town were cleaner this wouldn’t be an issue,” the original complainer retorted

“You can’t make Scarlet Town cleaner,” Horatio interjected

“Why is that?” Ezekiel asked.

“As a person who frequently visits Scarlet Town you should understand, Sir Ezekiel. The impoverished who live there prefer the filth. Why else would they let so much refuse build up in their portion of the city?” Horatio responded.

Iris felt her face heat with anger. She dug her nails into her palms, keeping her gaze trained on the floor.

“I disagree.” Another guest spoke up, “It is not that they prefer it, they are just too lazy to address it.”

Ezekiel spoke again “I believe the issue is that Scarlet Town doesn’t have the proper infrastructure to manage its waste. If the government were to spend money to improve Scarlet Town-”

Horatio laughed. “And who would maintain this infrastructure? The whores and azure addicted criminals?” Horatio continued on, “Scarlet Town will always be a disgusting pile of garbage. The people who are born there either grow up to be lazy and languish in Scarlet Town or they work hard and make a better life for themselves outside of Scarlet Town.”

Iris was fuming and struggling to hide her disgust as they spoke. She knew that the wealthy looked down on the poor, but she had never understood how wrong their misconceptions were.

“Servant girl, wouldn’t you agree?” Horatio asked.

“I have never been to Scarlet Town,” the woman standing next to Iris murmured.

“No, not you. The one with the amarath eyes. You have clearly spent time in the mines, which means you also likely lived in Scarlet Town. Yet somehow you have managed to work your way into a position in the Grand Palace.”

Iris lifted her eyes to meet Horatio’s arrogant stare. “No, I wouldn’t agree. The people in Scarlet Town aren’t lazy. They lack opportunity. They lack the ability to save for a future when it takes everything to survive the present. At the end of each year what meager savings they have left is used to purchase another year of life with no hopes of it being a better one.” Iris didn’t raise her voice as she spoke but it shook with her rage.

Horatio opened his mouth to speak again. But Ezekiel interrupted, “You make a good point miss. I hate to change the topic, but I do believe we have some business to discuss today.” Ezekiel’s gaze lingered on Iris for a moment before he directed the conversation to the business at hand. Iris and the serving girl busied themselves with clearing the plates of half-finished salads.

Iris returned the final salad plate and looked to the serving girl for direction on how to perform the next inconsequential task. She was met with an open-handed slap to the face. Iris was stunned, not expecting such a thing from the serving girl. The slap lacked both technique and force and wouldn’t leave a mark but it enraged Iris. Iris clenched her teeth, seething as she glared back at the serving girl. The girl was shaken for a moment by the intensity of Iris’ stare.

“You are not to open your mouth again in front of the Guild Masters.”

Iris balled her fist and bit back her retort. The presence of Horatio in the other room kept her from leveling the girl. Iris had already drawn too much attention to herself. She exhaled through her nose and responded with a terse nod.

The rest of the lunch finished without further incident, though Ezekiel managed to inconspicuously brush a hand against her arm or hand any time she was near him. Iris took notice of Horatio whispering something to the serving girl as she removed his dessert plate. The interaction was brief, and Iris found herself thinking about Ezekiel’s touch instead of Horatio’s presence.

When all the guests had left, Iris was directed to stay and help finish cleaning up before returning to the kitchens. The serving girl led the way back to the kitchens and Iris pushed one of the carts loaded down with the dishes that she would soon be cleaning. Once they returned to the kitchens the young woman surveyed that cart of dirty dishes.

“We forgot one of the crystal pitchers. Iris, you need to go back and get it,” she stated.

Drained and irritated from the lunch. Iris was tired of being bossed around. “No, I am needed in the kitchens.”

“I don’t have time to get it. I need to start setting up for dinner.” She looked down at Iris. Iris turned her back to her and headed into the kitchens.

“Iris!” Penelope roared. “Stop being petulant and go get that damned pitcher.”

Iris gritted her teeth and marched off to do as she was told. What had become of her? Iris had survived a year in the Amarath Mines and fought her way up the ranks of one of Scarlet Town’s most ruthless gangs. Now she was being bossed around by an uppity serving woman and a cranky cook. The serving girl probably left the damned pitcher on purpose. She wasn’t going to be staying in the Palace forever, she reminded herself. She just needed time to lie low and come up with a new plan. Iris dug her nails into her palms and kept her head down as she walked back to where the luncheon had been held. After spending the afternoon waiting on the wealthy that frequented the Palace, she wanted to avoid having to interact with any more of them for the day.

She entered the staging room and scanned the room for the crystal pitcher. It wasn’t there, so she opened the adjoining door into the dining room. The pitcher sat on the oak sideboard on the opposite side of the room. Iris walked around the long dining room table, the glass doors that lead out to the gardens had been closed. Iris reached for the pitcher but stopped at the sound of the door to the dining room opening. Iris spun around to see Horatio closing the main door to the dining room behind him.

Upon seeing her an unnatural smile formed on his lips. “How lucky I am to find you here. We never did get to finish our discussion from lunch.”

“I don’t think you would be interested in hearing any more of my thoughts on the matter.”

“Now that is where you are wrong. What was your name again, I seem to have forgotten?”

“I never told you, my name.”

“That’s right, you never did. I believe I am to refer to you as my judgment and punishment.”

Iris inhaled sharply. How had he recognized her, she had kept her identity hidden when she had visited him. It must have been her voice. She should have kept her mouth shut at the luncheon.

Horatio pushed off from the door that he was leaning against and advanced towards her. He walked with a noticeable limp. “I can practically see the wheels in your head spinning. That night you blackmailed me I learned two things about you. One, that you are a woman and two, that you worked for Exodus. Since you had made yourself my new business partner, I did some digging and found out that Lucious had a girl with amarath eyes running azure for him. There wasn’t much else I could find about you though.”

Horatio stopped in front of Iris. Her lower back pressed against the sideboard she looked up at Horatio.

“I am not the only women with amarath eyes in Orinth.”

Horatio sneered, his face was inches from hers and his breath smelled of seafood soup, “I hear your voice in my head with every painful step I take. The physicians were not able to remove the tip of the arrow from my thigh.”

Iris kept her face expressionless. You deserve far worse, you disgusting prick.

“Now that you are here, I guess we won’t be working together anymore. Though I doubt I will be able to renegotiate my twenty percent smugglers fee with Samuel. At least Samuel didn’t have an issue with my taste in younger women.”

Iris’ blood simmered with fury. She would find a way to stop Horatio. The only reason she hadn’t killed him that night was that she needed him for the azure shipment. She no longer needed Horatio.

Horatio continued on. Cerise, the man liked to talk. “It’s unfortunate that Ezekiel has taken a liking to you. But I will find the evidence I need to prove your connection to the azure shipment, and you will hang for it.” Iris held his stare. She wasn’t intimidated by Horatio, threats from powerful men were something that Iris was used to. Iris moved her knee upwards with force crushing Horatio’s genitals. He let out a yelp and stepped back on his injured leg. Grasping his genitals, he fell to the floor curling into a ball.

Iris stood over Horatio’s groaning form, “They aren’t younger women, they are girls.” She kicked him hard in his injured thigh and he whimpered.

Iris’ voice was just above a whisper, “Do not think your threats will scare me. I have dealt with men much more dangerous than you.” Iris straightened her apron and snatched the crystal pitcher from the sideboard and stepped around Horatio.

She felt invigorated as she walked back to the kitchens carrying the pitcher. She needed to figure out a plan for dealing with Horatio or else he was going to be a problem. For now, it felt good to replay the image of him rolling on the floor in pain clutching his crotch.

Iris returned to the kitchen to finish her shift. Iris’ thoughts were scattered while she worked, they bounced between Ezekiel’s furtive touches, the discussion at the luncheon, and Horatio’s threat. Iris had felt like herself again when she had kneed Horatio, and she didn’t know what that meant about her. It meant that she was a messed up, violent person. No, Horatio had deserved what she had done to him, and it felt good to deliver a small amount of justice.