"Lord Damon will be coming home today," the head maid called out loudly. Her voice echoed in the room. It was a threat.
Camilla stopped walking. She stood still for a moment. She slowly turned around to face the older woman.
The head maid saw Camilla stop, and she felt a small rush of confidence. She pointed a wrinkled finger at Camilla. "You will be in big trouble, My Lady," the head maid continued. Her voice was sharp and cruel. "When the General arrives, he will hear what you have done. I am sure you will be arrested by his personal guards. They will lock you in the dungeon for trying to kill a war hero."
Camilla looked at the head maid, and then she looked down at Nancy, who was still kneeling on the floor, holding her red, burnt hands. She put the pieces of the puzzle together in her mind. The older woman and the younger maid working together to bully her. The intense hatred. The shared secrets. It was obvious they were mother and daughter.
Camilla let out a cold, dry laugh. She took two steps back toward the long wooden table. She stood right in front of the head maid.
"You deliberately caused that accident to frame me," Camilla said. Her voice was smooth, but it held a dangerous edge. It was not a question. It was a statement of fact.
The head maid's eyes widened slightly, but she kept her mouth tightly shut.
Camilla crossed her arms over her chest. She tilted her head. "You cut the saddle. You ruined the horse's gear. And you blamed it on a weak, crying girl who does not even know the way to the stables. You planned all of this. Now you want me to suffer in silence and take the blame for your dirty work?"
Camilla looked at the head maid, and then she looked down at Nancy. She shook her head in pure disgust.
"Your Lord Damon should really have his eyes checked," Camilla stated clearly. She did not care who heard her. "He is supposed to be a great, smart General. But how did he end up staying under the same roof with two living devils like you and your daughter? He must be blind."
The room became perfectly still. The other maids standing in the corners stopped breathing. No one had ever spoken to the head maid like that. No one had ever called her a devil.
Inside her mind, the head maid was completely panicking. Her heart started to beat very fast against her ribs. Her stomach felt cold.
"How did she know?" the head maid thought to herself in pure terror. "How could this stupid girl figure it out? No one saw me go into the stables last night. I was so careful. Nancy kept watch by the door. We did it perfectly. Did someone tell her? Is she guessing?"
The head maid looked at Camilla's calm, dark eyes. Those eyes did not look like they were guessing. They looked like they knew every single secret in the world. A drop of cold sweat rolled down the side of the head maid's wrinkled neck.
In the corners of the room, the other young maids began to whisper to each other.
"Did you hear what she said?" one maid whispered behind her hand.
"Did the head maid really hurt the General's horse?" another asked softly.
"She called them devils," a third maid muttered.
The head maid heard the whispers. She knew she was losing control of the room. She had to act fast to protect herself and her daughter. If the other servants started to doubt her, the General might start to investigate her.
The head maid took a step forward. She forced her face to look angry and deeply offended. She pointed her finger right at Camilla's chest.
"You are making false accusations!" the head maid shouted loudly, trying to drown out the whispering maids. Her voice shook a little bit, but she tried to hide it. "How dare you speak to me like this! I have served the Benson family for over twenty years!"
She pressed her hand against her chest to look innocent. "I raised Lord Damon! I washed his clothes when he was a boy! I am utterly loyal to the Benson family and the General. I would never do anything to harm him. You are just trying to push your horrible crimes onto me because you are scared!"
Camilla did not move. She kept her arms tightly folded. She looked at the older woman like she was looking at a very bad stage play. The acting was terrible.
"You talk a lot about loyalty," Camilla said smoothly. Her voice was much quieter than the head maid's, but everyone in the room could hear it clearly. "But you falsely accused me first, even without proof. You just walked into my room and told me I was a murderer. Where is your evidence?"
Camilla raised one eyebrow. "Did you see me in the stables? Did I hold the knife? No. You have nothing. You just have your own loud mouth."
The head maid's lips curled into an ugly, triumphant smile. She thought she finally had Camilla trapped. She reached her hand deep into the large pocket of her dark gray apron.
"You want proof?" the head maid asked, her voice dripping with poison. "I have your proof right here, My Lady."
She pulled her hand out of her pocket. In her fingers, she held a small square of fabric. She held it up high for everyone in the room to see.
It was a delicate, expensive handkerchief. It was made of soft white silk. Around the edges, there was beautiful pink lace. In the very center of the handkerchief, the letter 'C' was embroidered in bright, golden thread. It was clearly Lady Camilla's personal item. It was dirty, covered in brown dust and a little bit of dark grease.
"This was found in the stables," the head maid announced proudly. She looked at the whispering maids to make sure they were all looking. "The stable boy found it hidden under the hay, right next to the stall of the General's horse . Why would your personal silk handkerchief be in the dirty stables late at night, My Lady? Unless you were there, cutting the leather yourself!"
The head maid smiled brightly. She was sure she had won. She waited for Camilla's face to turn pale. She waited for the young woman to fall to her knees and start crying, begging for someone to believe her as she always does.
Instead, Camilla just stared at the dirty piece of cloth.
Slowly, She began to chuckle.
It started as a small, quiet laugh in the back of her throat. Then, it grew louder. It was a genuine, relaxed laugh. She shook her head in pure disbelief.
The head maid's smile slowly dropped. Her arm, holding the handkerchief, lowered slightly. She looked confused. "Why are you laughing?" she demanded.
Camilla stopped chuckling, but a big smirk remained on her face. She looked at the head maid as if the older woman was the most foolish person in the entire world.
"Only?" Camilla asked. She reached out and tapped the dirty handkerchief with her clean finger. "That is your only proof? A tiny piece of cloth that I use to blow my nose?"
Camilla let her arms drop to her sides. She stood up very straight.
"Listen to yourself, old woman," she said clearly. Her voice was sharp and full of authority. "Any maid in this house could walk into my bedroom, open my drawer, and steal a handkerchief. I am sure Nancy cleans my room every week. She could easily take it, walk to the stables, and drop it in the hay. It takes five seconds to steal a piece of cloth. It proves absolutely nothing."