It took three days to get their affairs in order before most of the Fishers were ready to depart. Rhea had to work hard to look dreary and depressed as she helped the others pack their things for the long stay. Henri Jr. seemed very upset at the turn of events and didn't want to leave his favorite older sister "Aya" behind.
"I expect this house to be spotless," Thelma snapped her orders to both Portia and Rhea as they stood by the front door of the manor, watching as hired men came and grabbed numerous trunks of luggage to store in their two carriages. "Shining, even. Floor to ceiling. I want the windows scrubbed from the outside, the moss removed from the roof, and all the shutters to be opened to air out the dust."
Henri Sr. appeared then and placed his hands on the shoulders of his wife. "Dear, they know what to do. Let them be," he said quietly. Despite his words, Thelma's dark eyes burned into Rhea's skin. She didn't miss the subtle wink her father sent her way. Does he know what I'm planning? Is he giving permission?
It's not like she had anywhere to go. She couldn't just leave and forge her own way, she hardly knew anyone in town let alone the kingdom. Meridian Shores may be the safest place in the surrounding areas, but it certainly had its dark sides, if the whispers of gossip she heard in town sometimes were to be trusted. Her goal for this week was to get more acquainted with the area, maybe make some friends that could eventually help her out. Maybe she'd figure out what she wanted to do and could work towards that goal. The possibilities were endless.
Before Thelma could protest against her husband, there was a soft knock at the open door. In it stood an elderly woman. She didn't look it, though. Her long silvery hair was twisted into a neat braid down her back with thin strands framing her rather smooth face, tiny wrinkles crinkling in the outer corners of her pale blue eyes as she wore a faint smile on her thin lips. "Good morning, Fisher House."
There were some murmurs from the hired men. "That's Theodora, the sea witch! She's blessing their family before the voyage."
"Why?" one of them asked.
The other one replied, "You haven't heard? Eight ships this month haven't returned to port. They're missing. Some sailors say that the Undine are getting restless and bringing down more and more ships in the area."
Henri Sr. cleared his throat, making it known that he had heard what they were saying. Rhea's heart dropped in her stomach at the thought of the ship crashing, regardless of water nymphs or otherwise. She may not like her family all that much, save for Henri Jr. and Alice, but she didn't wish death upon them. She clenched her jaw throughout the sea witch's blessings.
On her way out, Theodora turned towards Rhea. She walked closer until she stood directly in front of her, those pale eyes boring into her soul. "You... Rhea, correct?"
Rhea nodded slightly, unable to look away. She felt her eye twitch as she heard some sort of distant melody, like a woman humming.
Theodora raised her hand up, reaching for Rhea's face, but stopped. Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit before her hand fell and her curious expression hardened into an immovable steely one. "Your fate is uncertain," she spoke so quietly only Rhea heard her, "you'd do well to be careful as you tread these paths unknown."
A shiver that started from the crown of her head and went down to the soles of her feet shuddered through Rhea's body, chilling her to her core. What does that mean?
The old woman left then, bidding the family farewell. Activity picked back up and for the next hour or so, everything was carried out to the carriages. Rhea said a tentative farewell to her younger siblings and watched from the door as the four large horses pulled the carriages away from their home. She lifted her hand in a small wave when she saw Alice looking back at her.
Rhea knew better than to try to go out into town today. The family would still be in port for another few hours, and the chances of someone running and telling them, or they themselves seeing her, was far too likely. Instead, she walked back into the house and set about her normal chores, getting them done much quicker without the distractions or disruptions Thelma usually supplied. After, she worked on her room, shoving the window open as she once again tried to beat the dust out of it.
Portia, who was busy with the laundering of the linens, stopped by her room as she was cleaning. A soft knock sounded her presence, and Rhea looked up from the soapy suds she was scrubbing into the stone floor. "Yes?"
The maid walked in with a stack of linens, setting them in her lap as she sat on the cot. "While I was sorting out the laundry and switching the sheets, I found these in the back of the closet. They're old, and there's some holes, so the family won't use them. I thought you might like them. Provide you with a bit more comfort at night, at least."
Portia was a woman only a few years older than Rhea. The family had hired her as a live-in nanny when Henri Jr. was born. Her duties evolved into housekeeping and general house caring duties as Rhea took over the majority of childcare. She had sandy blond hair that was kept up in a tight bun on her head, not a hair out of place, and she had striking green eyes. The kind that looked the dew on fig leaves on a perfectly sunny morning. Her responsible nature and dedication to her duties gave her a mature demeanor.
When it was just the two of them, the young twenty-something let the ruse fall and gave Rhea some little comforts in her day by helping her or making an offhand joking remark about Thelma or Scarlett. Something to brighten the young woman's difficult days. Rhea smiled and dipped her head in thanks, "That's very kind of you, thank you, Portia."
"What are your plans?" Portia asked.
"For the day?"
"Or the week. They're sending a messenger hawk to the interim port master to announce their return," the maid explained. "We'll know ahead of time. I figure we can take it easy and bust out most of the cleaning when we get word."
"Oh," Rhea sat back on her haunches, wiping her damp hands on the skirt of her dress. She looked out the window, thinking, "I'm not sure. I'm staying in today, but I've no idea where to start tomorrow."
"Are you still planning on leaving?"
"Eventually. I need to get my ducks in a row before that, though."
Portia nodded, "Of course..." she trailed off, before taking a breath and continuing, "I believe we're friendly with each other, Rhea, so forgive me if I sound harsh, but I have concerns about these plans of yours."
"What are your concerns?"
"Well, first of all, what do you plan on doing if you manage to leave? Are you going to run a store? Work someplace? Travel?" Portia brought up very good questions, ones Rhea didn't really know the answer to.
"I... I'm not sure, actually. I don't know if I'm any good at anything in particular. I suppose I could be a housekeeper for a different family if I must." Rhea sighed, looking down at the damp stone that was slowly drying and her scrubbing brush that was left where she stopped.
The maid sighed, setting the linens down on the cot and standing up. She walked over to the little closet in the corner, pulling it open and examining the dresses inside. Each were hand-stitched by Rhea from pieces of old clothing the other Fishers didn't want. Her eye for detail and color matching was incredible. Portia pulled out a particularly pretty yellow dress that had a sage green bodice and white embroidery on the skirt with little white daisies lining the bodice and neckline. Very simple yet beautiful.
She held it up and turned it around. "You made this?"
Rhea nodded, standing up. "Yes. That was a while ago, I'd almost forgotten. I'm never allowed to leave so I don't wear any of those."
"But you keep making them, no?"
She nodded again.
Portia gave her an exasperated look. "Excuse my lack of manners, but are you daft? Just look at these! They're beautiful and you made them from scraps of fabric yourself. Why not start here? Go find out what it would take to apprentice as a seamstress. Start at the bottom and gain some knowledge, maybe you'll one day own your own shop, Rhea!"
Rhea blushed, looking down at her hands and her feet. Both were dirtied from scrubbing the dust and grime off her floors and walls. Nails chipped and cuticles bleeding, her toes were no better off. "I-I don't know, Portia. Are they really that good?"
"They're amazing, Rhea, for what little materials you have? Incredible. It's ought to impress somebody!" Portia continued, "What can it hurt? It's a good place to start, anyhow. If you don't like it, then that's just one thing crossed off the list, no?"
She mulled over it, looking at the dress. It was very pretty. The hours put into it, painstakingly getting every detail perfect the way she liked. And when she wore it, she felt nothing short of a princess in a ball gown. If she could help people feel beautiful by re-imagining their clothes into something new and amazing, then everyone could feel like she felt. "Okay," she said resolutely. "I'll check out the town's clothing shops tomorrow."