To my shame I had a very hard time holding the tray, and I was very scared I would drop it.

Verdi’s red cloak stood out against the forms in grey. He eagerly gestured for me to come to his seat, which was at the head of the table.

“Miss Jane, at last we meet again! It is refreshing to see you all dressed up in servant’s clothes. Sometimes people change for the better, you might say, although you have yet to give up the taped braids in your hair.”

He smirked at my rather rusty movements when I poured his drink.

“There is nothing wrong with braiding your hair!” yelled Asni from the other side of the table.

“There is nothing wrong with the braids in your hair Asni,” the vendor replied smoothly.

“I am just of the opinion that hair should be allowed to flow freely, as yours does, despites the restraint put on it. However miss Jane’s braids have been made into a true sculpture, pulled tight against her head, poor girl.”

“It is not braided as tight as it used to be,” I said quietly.

“Then what is the point of having your hair all tied op like that at all?”

Just as I tried to walk away from him, his gloved hand lifted my chin. I could see all the rings on his fingers quite well. They were all very different, some of them I recognised from his own market stall, but others looked quite foreign. The various gemstones shimmered in the blue candlelight. I dared not look at his eyes. It was as if time stood still. The only things I could hear were his voice and the beating of my own heart.

“I wish you would speak to me more openly, Jane. Or has the hold already broken you?”

Suddenly, I was so startled at this actions that the other cups fell from my tray. As the glass broke, my sense of hearing returned. As if his teasing voice, and his calling me by my name, and my name only, had been nothing more than an illusion.

Asni muttered a word I did not recognise, but I was certain of it being a swear of sorts.

“Luckily I knew this could happen, so I brought the least expensive glasses.”

All the men at the table laughed, but Verdi’s face displayed only a small smile, which I suspected wasn’t quite genuine. Was it because of my complete foolishness? I had never served others before, so I couldn’t help making these mistakes.

“I suspect you will be bringing only plates for the rest of the evening,” said mister Lionel jokingly. I didn’t find it quite funny, but luckily did have some experience in making it appear as if I did.

“But first, she will clean up this mess!” Ansi said passionately.

After the shards of cups had been disposed of and the wine had been cleaned from the floor –to Verdi’s demise- another bottle of wine was brought, and dinner was served. I myself nearly drooled at the sight of roast chicken after endless days of eating spoiled oatmeal.

“When you are serving, some food from the kitchens will be left for you after dinner,” Asni whispered.

I, who had never been truly hungry in my life, began to work as if my life depended on it. And frankly, it did.

Verdi didn’t speak to me after dinner, but he stayed for a long time, talking to his companions. Meanwhile, I ate some of the left-over chicken in the kitchen, together with the chef, his young helper, Asni and the other serving girl.

Most of us were sitting at the chairs by the simple wooden table, but the young boy on the table.

“I do hope they didn’t notice that the chicken was baked a little too light, I don’t like it when the chicken is too light,” said the chef.

“I am sure they didn’t notice, Boris,” the other serving girl said.

Asni gave him a disapproving look, but quickly laughed when he realised she was mocking him.

“I noticed,” the young boy -whom I believed was called Stephen- said.

I had actually noticed it as well, but I was too grateful for the food to care.

After Boris had threatened to take away Stephens plate, silence filled the kitchen.

“What is it like down there?” Asni asked contemplatively.

“Down the hold, you mean?”

She sighed, vexed at my question.

“It is terrible. Very cramped, with people of all ages, all terrified of what is going to happen to them.”

“Never mind my asking,” said Asni.

“What do you mean, never mind your asking? Isn’t it terrible what is happening downstairs? Shouldn’t something be done about it? This is so unfair, so unequal-”

With the speed of lightning, Asni got up from her chair, her long braids followed behind her.

“How can someone of your social position even dare to speak of unfairness, when most of the poor people downstairs -and most of the people in that town you live in- would give their life for one day in your polished little shoes?”

I also slowly got up from my chair.

“If that is to be my sole defect, I can’t imagine how grave yours must be, for choosing to ignore what happens right under your nose. At least I have the decency to be born the way I am.”

Stephen, Boris and the other serving girl watched the debate, but did not interfere. Boris frowned a bit after my speech.

“You do not know my past,” Asni said furiously.

“But do I have to? I did not start this discussion, but I really do feel the need to end it now.”

“I second that,” said Stephen.

“I think you should do your tarot with her,” said the serving girl.

“It is not my tarot,” Asni said, but she didn’t refuse her.

“What is tarot?” I asked.

“It’s something Asni does to frighten us,” said Boris, smirking slightly.

“I do not do it to frighten you. Only those who fear the unknown, fear the tarot cards.”

She picked out a staple of cards from a purple pouch. They were quite large, for cards, and bound together by a ribbon. Suddenly, she smiled wickedly at me.

“I am certain that you are not able to shake a deck.”

I later found out that she was right.

“No matter,” Asni said stout-heartedly after she had picked up the cards from the ground.

Stephen laughed at me.

“Do nobles not play cards games?”

“Some of them do, but I wasn’t one of them. My father is very good at them.”

“Attention!” Asni called.

She began to lay cards in a row of three, revealing the images on the cards.

“This is very logical,” Asni said, while pointing at the card in the middle. A young, blond man with a knapsack, as if about to walk out of the picture he was painted on.

“You are on a journey, currently, and the wheel of fortune is on your left, meaning that the outcome may vary.”

Thus far, I had learnt nothing new.

“But with the fool, one could also say that you are about to start afresh. A new beginning is lying ahead of you.”

That could be true, I doubted I would be able to live life as I knew it from now on. Part of me hadn’t realised that yet, because everything I was currently seeing, and hearing and otherwise experiencing, seemed to be part of a parallel world. A parallel world which I wouldn’t want to be freed of just yet, even if it was possible.

“The world in a reverse is your past card. Did you feel as if there was somehow no escape from your situation? As if no one could possibly help you? Did you feel perhaps a little unappreciated?”

I bit my lip.

“Those statements are true, but my feeling there was no escape is perhaps no different form how I felt not so long ago.”

Asni opened her mouth to speak, but was interfered by someone else.

“And yet you feel more free than ever before in your life, sailing away from the coast of your own responsibilities, and those of your family.”

Verdi was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. I could see that all the others had left.

I blushed at his statement.

“That might be true, but I don’t see how any of that is of your concern.”

“It is not, I was merely doing an observation. Asni, I do appreciate the sentiment of your card reading, but I would like to speak to miss Jane privately.”

Asni, somewhat insulted, picked the cards from the table, and gestured for the others to leave the kitchen, leaving me all alone with the man who was the very reason I was held captive in the first place.

With not a care in the world, the vendor’s lips smiled as he took a step closer to me.