The king's door, located behind and to the King's right side, lead to a stairway. Down lead to a panic room, stocked with supplies, in case there should be some kind of uprising while the King dwelt within his chambers or the throne room. Stocking those supplies- replacing the rations when they began to moulder, making sure the mechanism to the locking portcullis was functional, and, of course, keeping everything free from dust fell under Colette's direct purview, and it was the only duty that she always performed alone.
However, take those stairs up, and they would eventually lead to the royal apartments located directly above the throne room in the keep. The apartments were a sprawling, luxurious tangle of extra bedrooms, studies, libraries and private dining halls. In times past, the entire royal family- all brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, children and children in-law and grandchildren and so on- would live here, in the capital. Now, because the royal family had dwindled over time, there was only the king and his personal staff.
But before you reached that, there was a concealed gallery. Perhaps concealed wasn't the right word- the entire throne room was overseen by a second-level gallery, where non-functional members of the royal court could oversee proceedings in the actual throne room. From the ground floor, and the gallery across from it, the concealed area appeared to be part of the rest. But it was accessible only to the royal family and those they entrusted with their innermost sanctum- and it was here that Colette observed the meeting between Adeline and the King, just far enough back from the railing to be hidden in the shadows.
Colette's mouth was pressed into a tight line as she glared at the witch's back. Colette had served the king personally since she was twelve, first as a playmate and a companion and later as a lover and servant. As daughter of the previous king's high steward, Colette was considered very minor nobility, and her being of an age with the king it simply made sense for her to be called upon for this purpose. And now, here was a very beautiful and very dangerous and, to Colette, at least, very unwelcome new presence in King Roland's life. Colette felt her distrust turn bitter in her mouth.
Just as the witch was about to disappear from view, Adeline turned, seeming to glance back. A chill came over Colette as the witch's eyes passed over her hiding spot. The witch's pale eyes found hers, for just a moment, before moving on. Colette swallowed, finding her throat unaccountable dry, and tried to dismiss the feeling as jitters. It was not possible for someone from the throne room to see her. She had stood in the spot where the witch has stood and tried.
There was a tug on Colette's arm. "Please, mistress," Katarin said in a strained whisper, "Let's go before his grace thinks we were spying on him."
Colette coolly regarded the mousy-haired young girl. The former king's staff were given duties elsewhere, after the coup, and suddenly Colette and her four subordinates were saddled with the duty to take care of the entire royal apartments themselves, rather than just the six-room suite King Roland had maintained for his own use from when he was a prince. Even if the need to address the King's sexual satisfaction was set aside, they did not have the staff to make up the difference in labour force to maintain the entire royal quarters. Few of the rooms were in use, at least, but as of late his grace had been requesting that more of the rooms be opened and prepared for use. This was what had motivated Colette to bring more girls into her secure little world.
Katarin was her newest recruit, a shy country girl just past the age of eighteen, who ran away from a pastoral life to live with an uncle in the city. She was far too timid around King Roland, even considering the lewd things the King required of his personal maids, but finding new staff to fill out the royal apartments was a challenge. There were many beautiful girls, many girls who wanted to have sex with the King, either in the vain hope of becoming princess consort or seeking to be a favourite concubine, and many girls who qualified for the privilege of having employment in the castle. Finding people who satisfied all three requirements- beauty, willingness to because the king's bedwarmer, and skill at the work demanded of her- was difficult.
Katarin had been the most sought-after girl in her village, once. A modest bust, wavy hair, sparkling green eyes, and a slender, delicate figure that her form-hugging maid uniform showed off, the girl would have been a prize wife for some local merchant or plantation owner, perhaps even the mistress of her local lord. But in the capital, the girl had found a rude awakening. She was still beautiful, yes, but she was no longer remarkable, and the realization had awakened in her a timid streak that Colette was stubbornly trying to train out of the poor maid.
Still, Colette could work with her. She had made good maids out of worse material before.
