The head maid opened her mouth to argue, but she had no words. Camilla's logic was perfect. The other maids in the room nodded their heads slowly, realizing that Lady Camilla was right. A dropped cloth was not solid proof of a crime.
Camilla leaned closer to the head maid. She lowered her voice so only the older woman could hear the cold threat in her tone.
"If your General actually believes this stupid piece of cloth is solid proof," Camilla whispered, "then he is a bigger fool than both of you. And if he is that foolish, I do not want to be married to him anyway."
Camilla stepped back. She looked at the head maid's pale, shocked face. Then she looked down at Nancy, who was still silently crying on the floor.
"You both play very messy games," Camilla stated loudly, turning her back to them. She started to walk toward the large wooden doors. "You lie too much. You make up stories. And you do it very badly."
She paused by the open doorway. She did not look back. She just let her words float into the quiet room.
"I hope you tumble on your words and bite your tongue for lying," Camilla said firmly. It was a simple, everyday phrase. It was something people said when they were annoyed. But coming from Camilla, after Nancy had just tripped and burned her hands, the words sounded like a dark, heavy curse.
Camilla stepped through the doorway and walked out into the long stone hallway. She disappeared from their sight. Her footsteps faded away.
The dining room was silent again. The tension in the air was thick and heavy.
The head maid stood frozen for a few seconds. Her mind was racing. Her plan had failed. The young Lady did not admit to the crime. Instead, she had completely destroyed the head maid's argument in front of the other servants.
The head maid felt a tug on her long gray skirt. She looked down.
Nancy was looking up at her mother. The young girl's face was red and covered in tears and sweat. Her hands were blistered and shaking violently. The pain was unbearable.
"Mother," Nancy whimpered softly, forgetting to call her 'Head Maid' in front of the others. "It hurts. Please help me."
The head maid's heart softened for her daughter. She quickly put the dirty handkerchief back into her pocket. She knelt down on the wet, soup-covered stone floor next to Nancy. She reached out to gently hold her daughter's arms, careful not to touch the burnt skin on her hands.
"Hush now," the head maid said softly, trying to comfort the crying girl. She wanted to tell Nancy that everything would be alright. She wanted to tell her that they would clean the burns and wrap them in bandages. She wanted to speak quickly to calm the girl down.
"Nancy, you will be al—" the head maid started to say.
She spoke too fast. Her mind was still spinning from her argument with Camilla. Her jaw moved awkwardly. Her teeth clamped down hard.
CRUNCH.
The head maid stopped speaking instantly. Her eyes shot wide open.
A sharp, bright flash of pain exploded inside her mouth. She had bitten down directly onto the side of her own tongue. She had bitten it incredibly hard.
She let go of Nancy's arms. She gasped, pulling air into her mouth. The pain was sharp and hot. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth.
The metallic, salty taste of warm blood quickly filled her mouth. It pooled under her tongue.
The head maid pulled her hand away from her lips. She stared down at her fingers. There, resting on her thumb, was a thick drop of bright red blood.
Her breath hitched in her throat. She stared at the blood, completely frozen in shock.
The words echoed in her mind. I hope you tumble on your words and bite your tongue for lying. Lady Camilla had just said those exact words thirty seconds ago.
The head maid slowly turned her head. She looked toward the empty wooden doorway where Camilla had just left. Her eyes were wide with pure, absolute fear.
First, Nancy tripped and burned her hands right after Camilla wished the soup would scald her. Now, the head maid had bitten her own tongue until it bled, exactly as Camilla had predicted.
"She really is a witch," the head maid thought to herself. A cold shiver ran all the way down her spine. The hair on her arms stood up. "This is not Lady Camilla."
The head maid swallowed hard, tasting her own blood. She narrowed her eyes. Her fear slowly began to turn into deep, dark anger. If Lady Camilla was a witch, she was too dangerous to keep alive. If Lady Camilla knew the truth about the saddle, she could tell the General. She could have the head maid and Nancy executed.
"This girl has to go," the head maid thought to herself. Her mind worked quickly, forming a new, deadly plan. "She must be eliminated before she ruins everything. I have to get rid of her as soon as possible."
Before the head maid could think of how to kill Camilla, a loud noise broke the silence in the dining room.
Heavy, fast footsteps came running down the stone hallway outside. It sounded like metal boots hitting the floor. A young man wearing the silver and blue armor of the Benson family guards burst through the open wooden doors. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling fast. He had run all the way from the front gates.
The guard stopped just inside the room. He looked at the spilled soup, the crying Nancy, and the bleeding head maid on the floor. He looked very confused for a second, but he had a job to do. He stood up straight and saluted sharply.
"Mrs Ida!" the guard announced loudly. His voice carried across the large room.
The head maid quickly stood up. She wiped the blood off her lip with the back of her hand. She tried to look professional. "What is it?" she asked, her voice sounding a little thick because her tongue was swollen.
The guard took a deep breath.
"The General is back," the guard declared. "Lord Damon's carriage has just passed through the main gates. He is demanding to see Lady Camilla immediately."