(('Kay then...))

The carriage was nice, as far as carriages go, and though Clara should have been excited--walking was the only way she'd ever gotten anywhere, save for a few sigular horse rides--she was feeling too sickened to feel anything but downright awful.

Though Clara had spent her life in an orphanage--Aquinas House for Homeless Girls--she was not a tragic heroine forced to work from dawn 'til dusk by an evil matron. No, Mrs. Loraine was wonderful. Almost every other girl she met there was equally pleasant--most of all her elder sister Evelyn.

But, like so many others before her, when Evelyn turned fourteen, she'd been sent away to find work as a servant, as was the custom of orphanages. Claras heart had held a dreadful sorrow ever since that day three years ago, and now it was her turn.

Though my departure is less painful, she mused, for I leave no one behind. But she knew this wasn't true. Sure, she had no other biological relatives at the orhanage, but Mrs. Loraine was like a mother to her, and she'd had so many wonderful friends--Salias, Luica, Joyanna, Mirissi, Miriama, and Latricia, just to name a handful.

Yes, there was little doubt that as the carriage turned the busy corner, Clara Jaeli LeDreviar was leaving behind almost everything she'd eve known or loved.

Clara sat on the small bed for a long time, thinking about everything Janali had told her. There was one thing in particular that Clara couldn't get over:

That the mister and mistress had a son. They just didn't seem like the type to be parents, and what had Janali meant by cursed?

  A soft tap on the door interrupted Clara's thoughts. "Bed time," it was Janali again "You're goin' to be gettin' up bright and early tomorrow. Might as well be rested."

"Oh, okay, thank you," Clara replied, still dazed in thought.

"Anytime, miss," said Janali, and then skidded on down the hall.

Clara put on her long, white night gown and brushed her auburn hair before settling into bed. Not a peep was made down the endless halls, and Clara wasn't used to the quietness. At the orphanage, the girls would always be talking to each other before going to sleep. You would hear talking, giggling,

and occasionally Ms. Loraine, telling you not to talk too loudly. Clara's heart ached for that, and she quietly cryed herself to sleep.

In the morning, Clara woke to the sound of whistling. It was still very early, for only a dim, silvery blue light came in through the window.

"Time to wake up," said someone on the other side of the door. Clara didn't recognize this voice, for it was far too soft to be Janali. "C'mon and I'll show you where to get cleaned up."

Clara hurried out of bed and put on some clean clothes. The girl on the other side of the door was tall and trim, with golden blond hair that she wore in a twisted bun. "Hello," said the girl with a curtsy "My name's Patricia, it's my duty to wake up the maids and help with the breakfast." She was very cheerful.

"Hello, I'm Clara," Clara said, still groggy.

Patricia took Clara down to a small marble bathroom. "This is where the maids get tidied up," explained Patricia "When you get ready, you'll be tending to Mistress Bernard's gardens today. It's something she would normally do, but she and Mister Bernard are going to be out today, and she heard that you are good at that kind of thing." That was very true. She and the other girls used to help Ms. Loraine with her gardens every day, and Clara thought of it as a hobby. "Oh, and let me get you some proper clothes," Patricia said, scurrying down the hall and then back in a flash, with a traditional maid's uniform. "We all have to wear them."