Ms. Emily: Part 1

A little more of the powder, and a little bit of the blush and there: I was ready. My hair neatly slicked back in its bun, just the right amount of mascara, the perfect shade of rosy-tint on the lips and I was ready to shine. Quite literally. “You will be handed your staff uniform along with your badge and your very own set of cleaning supplies on your first day here.” The voice of Mr. Barkeley still rings in my head. I had been chosen among at least a hundred different girls as a cleaning staff for the royal family! It still made me a little dizzy thinking about it. One is considered lucky to even step foot in the royal palace. To put it literally, the Queen is the savior of this land. If Bradfordshire is an independent state today, it is all because of the queen. The queen rules, serves and protects everybody in the state. And to be able to see her Highness the Queen at close quarters! The thought made my lip tremble as I pulled my bags down the stairs. It was one of the most noble professions, serving the queen.

Ever since I got the call about the offer, I have been treated differently. Going to the market hasn’t been the same since. Mothers hushed their daughters away, while giving me a disproving look. Ever since I was a little girl, seeing my mother in her tattered apron going to houses to cook and clean, I always wondered why everyone saw us in a different light. Bernie’s mother was a baker in the central library. Her clothes weren’t stained like ours. Why was she greeted on the streets where as nobody gave a second glance at us? It is only when I grew up, I realized that being a house keeper wasn’t considered a noble profession. Unless it was anything related to the queen and serving the state. Which is why the fact that a simple maid’s daughter was selected to serve the queen, didn’t sit right with the town.

The selection process was considered one of the toughest in the entire nation. I had seen little girls practicing their serving skills right from the ripe age of 10. I too had spent my childhood days helping mother wipe the plates in the kitchen as she’d narrate the stories of servants from the royal headquarters.

“Plates of gold” she’d say. I would imagine all the servants seated at a long table at the end of which sat the kind, gracious, Queen Violet.  “Will they get to eat good food?”

“Oh, my dear Emily! absolutely! Berries.” She’d continue. “Of the finest kind.”

“I want to eat dinner with the queen too!”

“And you will. Don’t stop until you get there.” She would give me a big smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

I quickly wiped away a tear as I stepped out onto the street. Today was no day to be mopey. The royal staff needed an Emily to wipe the windows and to sweep their corridors. A horse drawn carriage stopped right in front of our, my cottage. And outstepped a footman. Yes, a footman. For me. Just to accompany me to the palace. Before I could even pinch confirm if it was a dream, the footman extended a gloved hand forward. “Ms. Brown.”

Oh.

“Yes” I stuttered, being ushered into the carriage and we drove away. From the tiny window, I saw the residents of the city lined all along the street. Some of them waving, some of them cheering. A few of them bowing. “I’m so proud of you.” Mother’s voice rang in my ears. I wish she would be here to see me today. Her little girl is finally getting other people to smile at her. All their feelings of jealousy were neatly masked with joy as the royal carriage drove past them.

As the carriage turned around the James River, I was taken aback with the view in front of my eyes. Huge green meadows rolled as far as the eye could see, dotted with tiny cottages on the horizon. I turned behind and through the small window at the back, I could see the life I was going to leave behind. The dull greyness, the dirt and the disgust, all being washed away like layers as I stepped into a world of grandeur and glitz. “You would have done something really great to be able to serve the Queen.”, Mrs. Daisy the florist had said earlier that morning. “You deserve this my child.” she smiled her warm contagious smile, pressing lilies into my hand. “These are for you.”

What had my life become? One day you were scrubbing the floors of a neighbor’s house and the next, you are shining the marble floors of the royal palace. Afte a monotonous stretch of green pastures, finally, the royal palace zoomed into view.

Stone towers majestically stood with ivy creeping up the windows. Stone gargoyles decorated the entrance, as if welcoming me into my new home. Each detail intricately carved into stone, it all seemed timeless.

Why were there so many guards outside the palace? Were they waiting for my arrival? Was this another test? Oh god! This was all so petrifying. This wasn’t a fairy tale. This was reality. I was actually stepping foot into the royal palace.

With each step I took, I was closer to the dream life I had imagined. The bushes were neatly trimmed creating a sense of peace with its geometry. It felt welcoming? Like this was the cure to all my wounds. The smell of fresh roses wafted through the air making me dizzy with excitement. The evening sun poured inside through the glass windows making the place seem ethereal. A dozen uniformed maids stood in a single row with a rosy smile plastered across their faces. Among them stood an impeccably dressed Mr. Barkeley. “Ms. Brown, Welcome to the royal family.” He said, handing me the uniform with the name tag glinting in the sunlight. Suddenly, the massive doors slammed shut behind me, plunging the room into complete darkness.