Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

I forgot about envy, she thought. And jealousy. And distrust.

Those emotions had names and faces now. She glanced around at those faces. Fox-faced Lys. Rosel with her bright eyes and mobile mouth. Janna and Dana. Steffi. Little Hanne. Lys happened to glance up. Her gaze met Ilse’s and she tilted her chin up. They stared at each other a long moment, until Mistress Raendl called out for Lys to help the servers in the common room.

Ilse punched a fist into the dough. I will not run away. I will not. Not again.

A lock of hair fell over her face. She blew it away. Anger solved nothing. Self-pity was equally useless. So think, she told herself. Unless you want to spend the next year dodging tricks, and explaining your clumsiness to Mistress Raendl. If Mistress Raendl didn’t dismiss her long before the year ended.

She folded the dough into the center and pounded it again. Lys was the senior girl and jealous of her position—that much was clear. And Rosel took her direction from Lys. Dana the moody one would join in the pranks if her day went especially badly. Steffi was simpler to work out—she just liked a good laugh. Janna … Janna was harder to judge. Ilse had thought her another like Steffi, but Janna thought longer before she spoke. She wasn’t afraid of Lys, but she also wouldn’t challenge the other girl’s status.

Then there was little Hanne, the one the rest overlooked.

“She’s from up north, like you,” Kathe had said. “Six brothers and four sisters. Her mother and father sent her to live with a cousin because they could not feed her.”

But the cousin had died, leaving Hanne without work or a home. Kathe had heard of the girl through friends and offered her a post. Hanne worked hard, but she clearly wanted nothing more than to go home.

Ilse paused in kneading the dough. Working hard. That was the key. I have to prove that I deserve this post.

She considered how for the rest of the evening. After the shift ended, she waited until the others had left, then approached Kathe. “I need a favor,” she said softly.

Kathe glanced around. “For your situation?”

Ilse nodded. “I’d like you to give me drudge work. The nastiest smelliest work you have. If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”

Kathe smiled faintly. “That

is hardly a favor. We always have drudge work, and we all take turns, or we earn it by making trouble. But if you want it …”

“I do.”

The next day, Kathe provided Ilse with several sets of plain rough clothing—jerseys and trousers and socks—and told her to wear these while she worked. Then she gave Ilse a wire brush and the kitchen’s filthiest pots, the ones coated with soot, or baked with sauces that had bubbled over. “Clean these until I can see my face. That should be nasty enough.”

After Ilse finished that job, Kathe set her to washing out the big trash barrels. The barrels stank from rotted foods left to ferment, and Ilse had to crawl inside to scrape out the crevices. She heaved up her breakfast the first day. The second day, she scrubbed the barrels first and then ate after taking a hot bath. After the barrels came the chore of scraping out the drain pipes that emptied into the gutters outside. Normally the lowest scullions did that chore, but as Kathe cheerfully reminded Ilse, she had asked especially for those kinds of chores.

“Have you had enough?” Kathe murmured when this state of affairs continued for ten days.

“Nearly,” Ilse said under her breath. Her hands were red from the soap, and her fingernails were chipped. But she had noticed a difference. Janna now greeted her when she came into a room, and Steffi asked her more often to share her stories and folktales. Dana made a point of leaving her special hand cream by Ilse’s bed, when Lys wasn’t around. Even Lys herself did nothing worse than ignore her.

“Take a break from the filth,” Kathe said. “I need you to deliver breakfast trays to our fair courtesans.”

Ilse hesitated. “What about …?”

“We ran low on pickles and vinegar and a few other things, so I sent Lys and Rosel to the market. The other girls won’t tell, I’m guessing.”

Ilse nodded. “Very well.”

Her response provoked a laugh from Kathe. “I’m so glad you consent.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did,” Kathe said, still laughing. “But I understand your reluctance. Hurry, though. Tatiana will be crying for her tea before long.”

Ilse scrubbed the dirt from her face and hands and changed into a clean smock and skirt. It was a welcome change, she thought, after she had delivered six trays to various rooms. Her last delivery was to the common room, where several courtesans lounged. A few hours remained before the pleasure house opened for general use, and the room was filled with sunset’s heavy red glow. Eduard dozed on the couch and Mareike softly played her double flute. Nadine lounged next to Adelaide, but at Ilse’s appearance, she rolled into a sitting position and patted the cushion next to. “Excellent. We’ve had one breakfast already, but I could have three more.”

“You’ll get fat,” Eduard said, his eyes still closed.

“Maester Schaulder likes plump women.” She turned back to Ilse. “What about you? You look hungry enough for another meal.”

Ilse smiled but said nothing. She laid out the dishes with food and collected the dirty ones to take back to the kitchen.