Two days and two nights passed since Bernis last saw the mysterious man. One thing was sure about the whole situation. The man had been real - the voice, the touch. The once light purple mark on his wrist turned into an ugly dark purple. He wondered how strong his grip had been to leave such a hideous mark. Surprisingly, he'd not felt as much pain from it. Maybe his adrenaline rush had masked it.
Bernis was more than glad about the idea of not meeting Maverick. For the two nights, his whispers before bed were chants - chants meant to ward off the man; for him not to appear in his room while he slept. If only Maverick knew how much fear he'd instilled into Bernis.
Birds chirped. The sunlight's golden rays hit the trees, and some penetrated through the leaves; shedding their glory on the grass. The morning dew slowly dried. Bernis rubbed his eyes. He waited in line at the palace gate for the soldier to check his bags, and also confirmed that he was a worker there.
"Good morning. Are we sleepy today?" The guard asked with a gentle smile on his face. Bernis removed his hand from his eyes to stare at the man. His eyes sparkled with a hint of fear flashing through them. His body stood rigid and frozen. "Is anything the matter," the guard asked, surprised at the face Bernis gave him.
For a moment, Bernis thought the voice belonged to Maverick. That alone would have been enough to ruin his day. Since the intrusion, he'd got a lot of stomachaches at night from the stress of the mysterious man possibly intruding his room. Seeing Maverick would for sure get his stomach cramping with a pool of torturing bitter acid, making him agonize for the day.
"Sorry," Bernis said, pulling off a faint smile. "Good morning," he replied to the guard, who was now almost done with checking his grey, cotton bag.
"You are clear," the voice said without acknowledging his 'sorry' or his 'good morning.' Did I offend him that much?
He headed to his workplace—the soldier's quarters and the training grounds. The palace where the king lived was west of where he worked. It was his job to cook and do laundry for the soldiers. Luka and Emily worked with him, along with three other ladies who would admire the shirtless men every chance they got. The trio would often ask wishes from the Goddess of Love. If she ever granted them, they would be famous for polyamory.
"Bright morning for a perfect day," Emily greeted him as she dumped a load of bedsheets onto the floor. "Bedsheet day," she said with a feigned excitement on her face.
The bedsheets were to be changed once a week, or per request, and all the workers avoided the task. The bedsheets would come with stains - some brown and dirty, and some with yellowish stains that looked like dried snort.
"We better get started," Emily said, clapping. She wanted to be done with the task as fast as possible.
Bernis reached out to grab some buckets and then headed to the water point. "Aren't we glad it's only once a week?" he said with repugnance on his face.
"Service to those who serve and protect," she said to hype-up the activity.
"They are disgusting," he gagged, and Emily laughed as she soaked the sheets in the biggest basins and buckets. She then poured detergent and used a stick to swirl the sheets around.
"By the way, there is a new person in charge here," she said as she continued to swirl the clothes so the detergent could penetrate.
"You mean Girdion?" Bernis asked with a frown on his face. Girdion was one of the few leaders that cared about them. He was in charge of all the support staff workers within the palace, the general's manor, and the soldier's quarters. He'd moved Bernis from his original post of farming and feeding animals to his current position. Working on a farm was exhausting for his small frame. He'd also complained to have lost weight. Girdion had felt sorry for him. He had sent him to the soldiers' quarters to work. Other than daily cleaning and cooking, exhausting work came thrice a week: the bed sheet day, and two separate days for washing the soldier's clothes. A good number of the soldiers preferred to wash their own clothes, but the majority got Emily and the team doing the work for them twice a week.
Bernis would have preferred to work in the castle, but Girdion had said that he wasn't competent. To be considered, one had to have undergone standard training - a mandatory torturous three months of being name called before being certified. The training alone was certainly difficult. He was sure a couple of the ladies had wiggled their way to working there without the training. For his level of patience, he was certain he wouldn't complete it. It would be a waste of time. He would rather make money in those three months than attempt certification and fail. The training period was unpaid without allowances.
"No, not our In charge. The general," Emily clarified.
"But general K is one of the best. Why did they move him?" Bernis asked as he gathered the courage to grab a sheet and hand wash it.
"I hear they transferred him to guard the northern border. It is a promotion. He gets more money."
"Alright. That is great. Great for him." He paused. "So, how is the new general," Bernis asked as he furiously rubbed the two pieces of the sheet together.
"I am yet to meet him," Emily replied. But we shall during the 10 o'clock tea time. Emily, Luka, and Bernis were the only ones allowed to take any food to the general's office. This was to ensure food safety and non-negligence of duties in case one of them was absent or unwell.
"I hope he will be nice to them," Bernis said, quite unbothered. The generals tended not to concern themselves with the supporting servants. Any major complaint got forwarded to Girdion. Slight mistakes were overlooked. Rarely did a general punish a supporting servant.