No Way!

The servant girl held the turquoise serving tray, taking it to the table of a dark interior that might as well have been painted with black paint. The long windows in front of the kitchen table were like unblinking eyes, the sunlight making everything visible. But the serving girl hated to see the darkness all around her. Couldn’t they shed some light in this place? The candles had gone out a while ago, to Lisette’s surprise. Rile didn’t blow them out. And neither did the other servants. So it was a mystery.

Placing the tray on the table, she then put each tea thing onto the mahogany wood, holding the—

“What did I say about scratching the furniture?”

A tall woman with dark hair and darker attitude stormed into the room, smacking poor Lisette against the back of the head with her pale hand. Glowering down at her and raising her hand to hit her again, Rile clenched her jaw. When Lisette told Rile she had made some tea and sandwiches the way she had made them, Rile jabbed a finger at the tea set. “You scratch, I hit. You break, I sell you to someone else. You spoil the tea, I spill it on you. You burn the food, you make it again. From scratch!”

From scratch meant the servant girl started with a wheat seed and ends with Rile telling her to make more for the company of friends she had over for her stupid tea parties. Lisette slid the tea tray further from the edge of it, Rile’s hand going back simultaneously. “Look—no scratches.”

“Then continue with the setup. My friends will be here any minute. You better get it ready.”

Rile walked away, her blood-red and black satin night robe trailing a little behind her, Lisette pointing out that her friends weren’t coming today. Rile turned around, her sharp hazel eyes looking right into the ugly brown ones of Lisette’s small ones. “Then prepare for tomorrow!”

After walking out of the kitchen, Lisette’s mistress ordered the young woman to change and look presentable. “And clean all of this disgusting dust from this house. It’s a mansion, so start right now!”

Lisette hurried through her chores and then returned to making the most delicious soup in the country of this land. She made tea that seemed to even cure someone of their very sadness itself as well as bread so warmly baked it must’ve had a secret ingredient in it! However, Lisette served with a frown on her face. She did not like Rile’s friends, nor did she ever want to be here in such a tight, stiff-necked collared white blouse and hip-hugging skirt hideous in design.

While Rile and her friends enjoyed such a toast to their husbands and Rile’s best friend—a duke over yonder in the castle far off—Lisette continued to treat these women. Such fashionable clothes didn’t make Lisette envy or have jealousy towards these women. No, she always just served these women with the most delicious food imaginable. One woman said she had created such a banquet fit for a king!

Lisette curtsied, and the woman nodded. And winked.

Rile looked at each of these women from under her big black party hat, and smiled stiffly. “Yes—Lisette makes such food. She’s the cook.”

One of the women was looking all around the mansion, Lisette noticed. “Please—do you ever light a single candle in this atmosphere?”

As soon as Lisette was about to answer, Rile nodded to the woman’s satisfaction once she returned to her friend. “Yes—candles are lit.” Flickering her eyes towards Lisette, Rile watched her servant girl go light a candle very tall and broad and then decorate this table with more candles. She balanced such candles very well on the palms of her hands, Lisette did. Happy such a room was lit and such darkness had been vanquished—at least for now—Lisette put on a little show. Tossing them onto the middle of the table, Lisette knew her heart was soaring as the women—Rile included—watched in awe, clapped and then returned to their tea and bread. Such a show had ended, but Lisette felt it was something the women would want to see again.

Rile better want to see it again, too. Or Lisette was leaving.

“So. The candles are lit, and we can see each other.” Rile rubbed her thumb against her fingers, and then set the napkin down neatly. Getting up, she herded Lisette towards a backroom where she ordered her to mop and scrub until the daylight became night, the moon shining through the windows. Nodding, Lisette got to work, Rile excusing herself as she sat down again, continuing her rant about the duke over yonder.

As the decoratively big hatted women all continued chatting, Lisette found a floorboard she had picked to hide some jewels. Elongating these shiny violet and quartz and diamond pieces of glory, Lisette had used them to help her spread a satisfactory smile onto her mistress’s firmly white face. When Lisette had been done with the jewels, she cooked and baked to her heart’s desire, concocting a little feast of desserts for her mistress and her friends. Joy was the theme of her heart today!

And then they’ll thank me, right?

Lisette served all night long. When Rile commanded her to come into the living room the next night, the fireplace reigning with its majestic fiery blaze, Lisette obeyed but out of obligation. “Lisette, come here!”

Standing in front of the gorgeously dressed woman with her big black silk hat with its blood-red feather extending from it, Lisette looked at the fire. Seeing it flicker freely, licking the air above her, Lisette sighed inside. Rile told her to look at her in the eyes. Lisette obeyed but not like before. She held her mouth firmly, her mouth pursed with disinterest in her servant life. Rile clenched her fist, but Lisette didn’t move.

“Do you hear me, girl?” Her red lips curled into a thin smile. Then she said, “Do it!”

“No.”  

Rile’s eyes widened, and she belted the young woman against the face as hard as she could. Lisette staggered. “I hate you. You’ll never be my mistress again!”

Her consciously obedient self dashed away, her skirts becoming muddy and black with wet wood chips as she escaped through a forest and then a dirt path and then a castle’s foreground. When she heard some whinnies of horses, she turned and then her feet were replaced by hooves stamping the rain-pounded ground, her dress becoming one massively thick cotton attire. Her hair clinging to her face, Lisette hurried the horse, it charging faster and faster, as if to outrun the pouring rain.

The pine from the trees spread a smile on Lisette’s face, her nose sucking up the delightful sweetness. Her horse whinnied as if to ask whether she’d like to return to her mistress (as she told it she was fleeing from her) so she wouldn’t be found and whipped, or she’d like to continue, eventually being found. Lisette slapped the reins.

“Please,” the horse begged with a throw of its head. “Please—I’ll be found and blamed.”

“So you’re beaten, too?”

“Yes. By the foul prince.”

Lisette blinked. She looked back. “Then let’s go. We—your new rider, Lisette, and her horse—don’t have a moment to lose.”

The horse bucked, and then snorted, as if begging Lisette to listen to it. “We will be found! Though we slave under—”

“No light of a candle will burn out the misery in our lives. We must move!”

The horse carried her far and away towards a misty moor by a sea. Some fish danced around her, their scarlet and fuchsia fins shimmering in the golden sunlight. The horse, Lisette saw, trotted to her, putting its muzzle to her face, she petting it softly. When the horse pawed the ground, Lisette rose from pulling some grass, her fistful of it opening and feeding the horse. Mounting her new friend, Lisette said she never wanted to be a servant. She’d rather be—

“Taken.” The horse whinnied and trotted, its new mistress atop.

“Taken by who?”

“Me.”

The horse dashed, Lisette’s blond hair bouncing in the wind, her laughter making the horse’s hooves almost dance with glee. When she reached the palace, Lisette braced herself. “I didn’t know we were going here.”

“No.” The horse walked her to a stall, and all the horses looked at it. When a crashing sound was heard, all the horses reared up and dashed away, the horse neighing and its eyes flashing. Lisette, who only knew this to be true because the horse was fleeing the other abused horses, grinned. “Let’s go!”

As the other horses fled their captors, the horse on which Lisette rode dashed away, saying it was taking her to a place no one but the horse knew. When Lisette jumped off the horse onto another grassy area, she saw the little cave to which a little stream was going. A small but cute stone bridge arched from the lower plain of grass to the other side, a brook bubbling to the right. A little village a little ways over, and Lisette knew she was in for a beer-drinking night with dwarves or elves or maybe even both.

“Stop gazing so long like you’re looking at stars!”

Lisette jumped, and looked at a gruff—yes—dwarf. Head full of red fuzzy hair, he invited Lisette into the small home. When she heard the crackling of a fire over between two conversing dwarves, her attention could not be ripped away by the main dwarf’s introduction. When the ground made her jump, Lisette jerked her eyes around, wondering what it could be.

“Siamese the dragon is here! He wants to give you a ride.”

Lisette shook her head. Seeing her horse stand outside eating some grass on the hill, she walked over to the fireplace, sitting before it. Its warmth made her sad for the lack of such a concept in her mistress’s mansion. It was cold—no light could’ve been lit. Even with Lisette’s cooking.

When Lisette got to know the dwarves, she served them the warmest bread, the juiciest, reddest meat and the crunchiest stalks of celery. Such a dinner warmed the dwarves’ hearts and spread wide grins upon their rubbery, dirty faces. Nodding in affirmation, Lisette wished Rile was here to see her love of making food so memorably good. Lisette sighed.

“Wha’s the matter, lady?” One dwarf asked. Some of the dwarves muttered to themselves. Others looked at each other, their bushy eyebrows furrowing.

“I…” Lisette took a deep breath. “I don’t have a loving mistress. The horse I have I have stolen from the prince. It busted the stalls so as to free all the other horses.” Lisette’s hands fisted. “I don’t have the light I need to show my mistress that I’m not just a stupid maid. I make her stomach full with my cooking and baking!”

“Love is what you bring to the table, it seems.”

“Yeah. But I’m not. Not loved.”

“No mistress in this part of the land will ever love someone so loving and serving.”

Lisette said she became a servant out of obligation. The dwarves listened, but one said she wasn’t going to gain the woman’s affection. The woman was too selfish. So she was just going to order Lisette around. Lisette didn’t like this arrangement, so she fled. Maybe Rile could find her, but she’d flee again. She didn’t care. Her food wasn’t enough.

“It’ll—”

“Lisette!”

The horse neighed, and Lisette looked back. It sounded like it was in a panic, but the horse could panic all it wanted. Lisette shook its head. As soon as she turned towards the dwarves and continued serving them, this time a decadent dessert with custard pie and sweet mango punch, she heard a high-pitched sound and then a scream from the horse. Whipping around, Lisette stared as the horse’s throat emitted a raucously horrible neigh and then stumbled, fell and then, after a few gasping breaths, lay still. Lisette dashed outside, hiding from whoever had killed her ride. Seeing some knights escape into the woods to tell their master the prince they killed the horse who had assumedly let all the other horses flee the stalls, Lisette quietly snuck away, wishing the dwarves a farewell. But the dwarves wouldn’t let her off that easy.

“Ride Siamese. He’s a dragon. Get on!”

Lisette obeyed instantly. The dragon took her overseas and oceans, crossing great distances. Telling her she’d be safe in a cave owned by a distant cousin of his, Lisette thanked the dragon after descending the beast and watching it fly away. Its golden scales mesmerized Lisette, and she could not rip away from such a gorgeous animal. When she felt heat near her, she turned—a new dragon had rested her head under Lisette’s left hand. Lisette took her hand away from the beast’s smoke rising from its nostrils.

“Come on.”

The dragon told her, Lisette reluctantly walking away. She started to descend the stairs of talk and enter the room of quiet when she saw the dragon curl up and look at her with such intense emerald green eyes. Lisette looked away, not feeling she should see such a beast in its cave. But the dragon said for her to curl up against it. “I’m safe.”

Lisette listened but out of obligation. And loneliness. She wished for someone in her life—anyone—to come and receive her as a friend or lover. The prince could do as he wished—so many scrolls had been burned no one tried convincing him killing animals out of hatred for their rebellion towards his murderously hateful self again. Lisette felt a burning hatred inside herself. Then her stomach growled.

The dragon blew a breath of fire, and it became a pile of flour and other cooking and baking ingredients for Lisette to concoct right here in the cave. How she did it she didn’t know, but the dragon and she enjoyed a hearty midnight meal of cakes and tea. The dragon smiled down at her, its thick tail curling around her as if it were a blanket around a small child. Tucked in the warmth of a loving animal, Lisette felt secure.

But not happy.

She told the dragon the next morning to burn down the evil prince’s castle.

“Bake with love.”

Lisette did, but the dragon didn’t like the food. It wasn’t like before. Lisette pursed her lips, and told the dragon she’d love her. The dragon loved Lisette, protecting her against evil. But the dragon said she couldn’t bake without love. Love was the language of her food. The secret ingredient to such a delectable bite.

Lisette told the dragon to protect her until the prince had died. But the prince grew even worse, killing off any animal who harbored news of where his horses had fled. The dwarves, Lisette had read in a flyer, had been taken to his castle, interrogated, imprisoned and beaten. They were there until the horses came back. Their dragon, the golden-scaled one, was tied up.

No, the dragon’s tears fell down her pretty face. I dreamt he was killed. With a spear.

Lisette couldn’t shake the horror of this reality. She looked out to the sea beyond. The prince wouldn’t mind if she threw herself into it, never rising again. He was going to be king in a few years. As the seasons came and went, Lisette freed the dwarves, hiding them underground.

One day, the dwarves were rescued. By the prince.

He claimed he had read a scroll from a mansion beyond the hills that had told him of his murderous hatred of those who defied him. He hated to know he was such a prince. He had killed his own horse, and the dragon. He was going to bed with the desire never to wake up again. Such demands were never to be made again.

Lisette resisted him at first.

Then, as she baked and cooked in his kitchen, the prince became a king worth serving. She grew up in the castle, becoming princess and then queen, but not with the prince. He had died years ago. But the emerald dragon had become her pet dragon.

Proud of the brave Lisette.

Rile never recaptured Lisette. A servant in Lisette’s castle, she fled. Whatever became of her—

“What a book.”

Rile, a woman married with children, set the book on the shelf, giving it to her children one day to read.

“She’s a queen, but I’m a serving woman. But my husband loves me. What a respectful woman I am!”

Rile looked over at Lisette, a serving girl in her mansion.

“You wrote this, woman?”

“Yes!” She said cheerfully.

“I enjoyed it.” She retorted icily.

Rile never had children. Her servants served her, knowing they’d all become monarchs one day. Rile’s vile attitude never went away. She emotionally abused her servants, but her husband treated them fairly. Rile’s husband and she left the mansion, living somewhere else.

“Where shall we go?”

“Let’s live here.”

They built themselves a castle, hired servants and gained a farm with peasants and knights and horsemen and maidens. Hated and despised for her treacherous ways, Rile saw her husband be accepted by Lisette’s kingdom, becoming a knight.

Rile lived a richly vain, materialistic, greedy life. She remarried, her children reigning as well.  

Her evil reign was visited by a feast of love. The dwarves and their grandchildren visited her.

“Not the witch we know you are, eh?”

The dwarves and their grandchildren sat at the same table as Rile, Lisette serving her former mistress a feast worth dying for. Such love had come from such a heartfelt gift of food and drink.

Rile looked right at her, but Lisette the cook and baker saw a light shining through those lonely eyes. A light of gratitude.