Antalya heard the opening of the door to her bedchamber while she was still half asleep. She stirred but she could not make out a figure with the crepuscular glow barely illuminating the darkened room. She strained her eyes, blinking them over again and only recognized the figure when she was spoken to.
"The baronessa wants you to come with me now," said Miss Kim.
Antalya began to sit up in bed but she was tossed back immediately. She had forgotten that the previous night after escorting her to her room, and undoing the laces of her corset, Miss Kim had then tied Antalya's lead to a metal ring mounted to the head of the bed. Antalya readjusted the collar to fit back where it was snug but comfortable. Miss Kim undid the knot and gently gave a few tugs to pull the sleeper out of her slumber and on her feet. She then ordered Antalya to strip the bedclothes and to gather them up. She then promptly led her out of the bedchamber.
Antalya's feet still felt sore from the previous day's long walk, but she didn't let any discomfort show on her face. The cool terrazzo actually helped some to soothe the roughened balls of her feet. With the laundry bundle piled up under chin and darkness of the corridor falling around her, she was forced to rely on the sound of Miss Kim's heels and the steady tension on her lead to guide her way. They walked past the main doorway to the walled garden where she caught a glimpse of the sun peeking over the horizon. Miss Kim pulled her further into an unexplored wing of the villa. Walking along without being able to see ahead of her, she was finally pulled into a side room where her eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright candlelight. She saw a low, broad central basin around which Palfrea and Hippolyta were already down on their knees, sweating and scrubbing on washboards. Miss Kim pulled her up to the basin and unclasped her lead. She then took the laundry from her arms and dropped it in the water to soak.
"Lift you arms." Antalya did as she was told and Miss Kim lifted her nightgown over her head and tossed it to into the water. Miss Kim handed her a washboard and a lump of soap. Antalya needed no further instruction. She leaned over the basin, copying the actions of the other two, and began working. She gathered up her wet nightgown and started to scrub up and down with her right hand, wedging the board against her chest to steady it. The water was quite chilly and flowed freely from an open tap and drained over and out a pipe in the center, so that even as they added suds and filth to the water it was diluted and drained away. Her knees became wet quickly as she sloshed the clothing in the moving water and worked the cloth over the ridged metal sheet. When she had thoroughly scrubbed her nightgown, she rinsed it and wrung it between her hands into a long sinewy strand. She then placed it in a wicker basket, which Miss Kim had set next to her. Scrubbing her bedclothes, she settled into a rhythm that accorded with the other two washerwomen. The steady common motion they all shared lulled her into thoughts she had long ignored.
Since her earliest teen years, her mother had always assigned the laundry to her. It was the cause of frequent tension. She hated the routine of having to sort and stack the clothes in various piles. They had a washer and dryer in the basement of her family's home, but she despised spending time down there every Saturday and the need to walk up and down the stairs would irritate her even more. Now on her wet knees, she wondered why she would get so angry. She always felt that her friends were able to do whatever they wanted on the weekends whereas she had to stay around the house, chained to her domestic duty. When she arrived at university, she was flush with freedom. But she quickly realized that freedom had its price. Her laundry would not just do itself simply because she was living in a dormitory. She learned that she was one of the few students who used the provided laundry rooms instead of bringing her dirty clothes home every weekend, not just because she didn't want to visit home so often, but because she was one of the few there who knew anything washing clothes.
Her knees started to feel sore so she shifted her weight, lifting one leg up and settling some pressure on her left foot. Hippolyta started to hum something, which echoed slightly off the concrete walls of the washroom. Palfrea began singing softly to the tune. She wished she knew what they were singing so that she might join in. She plunged the pillowcase under the water to give it a final rinse, and then she twisted it and placed it in her basket. While she started on the bedsheets, Hippolyta and Palfrea stood up and each taking an end, they slowly twisted a sheet between them. They carried on singing as the water was squeezed out, splashed on the floor and slowly meandered to the drain cover. They then carried out the same procedure with several other sheets, thoroughly wetting the floor and filling their baskets.
When they had finished with their laundry, they both came and kneeled down on both sides of her with their washboards and started washing the same sheet that Antalya was concentrating on. They worked in unison, moving over the whole cloth with efficient movements. They plunged their hands underwater for the final rinse and whisked the sheet vigorously. Anatlya pulled one end out and Hippolyta, the other. Antalya repeated the technique she had seen them do. Twisting to the right the cloth hanging between them, Hippolyta did the same and they steadily twisted out the water onto the slick floor. Just after they brought the ends together and dropped the last of the bedding in the basket, Miss Kim stepped forward, candlestand in hand, and clipped the lead back to Antalya's collar. She then conducted her out of the laundry room, carrying a basket held tight to her chest, with Palfrea and Hippolyta following close behind with their baskets piled high.
