service
tray, a knock sounded at the door and voices echoed through the
hallway.
“Jezebel, how are you?” asked a high pitched
voice, and Layna wrinkled her nose as she recognized it as
belonging to Renee. Renee was one of Jezebel's typical friends,
with absolutely no backbone and no other friends. The perfect
person for Jezebel to prey upon . Renee's favorite pastime was
parroting Jezebel's words to anyone who would listen, even those
people who had already heard it from Jezebel herself.
The two of them swept into the room, their
billowy dresses flowing around them as they seated themselves,
pointedly ignoring Layna. She busied herself pouring them tea and
adding the exact number of sugar cubes and milk that each liked.
Jezebel didn't like to have her conversation interrupted by
questions from the help. It was better that Layna memorized the
preferences. Each took their teacup without even a look in her
direction. Layna listened absently to their chatter, watching
carefully for motions that might indicate that they wanted their
tea refilled or to be brought a cake that the cook had miraculously
baked in time.
“I couldn't quite believe,” Jezebel was
saying, “that he had the nerve to call me Jezebel, as if we were
friends or even close to the same status.”
Both women laughed, and Layna found it
difficult not to laugh incredulously at the two of them. After
initially ignoring her, Layna noticed that Renee kept glancing over
at her, and she glued her eyes to the wall to make sure she never
made eye contact. She could feel the woman's eyes scrutinizing
every inch of her, and Layna wondered what she was thinking. She
didn't have to wonder long.
The next words out of the woman's mouth were,
“What are you doing with this strumpet in your household? No
offense to you, Jezebel, but really she looks like she could be one
of the ladies down at the Golden Girls.”
Jezebel took a sip of tea before answering,
and when she did her voice was cold. “No, my dear Renee, she's not
nearly pretty enough to be one of those girls. Are you, my dear?
Nor do you have enough class.”
She directed the last to Layna who brought
her eyes to their conversation for just a moment, meeting the black
beady eyes of Renee and then the deep brown of Jezebel, which
laughed at her from beneath their depths, before she answered, “Of
course not, ma’am. A simple peasant like me could never dream of
the beauty that you ladies achieve, nor even come as close as the
Golden Girls.”
Gryffon was passing the room just then and
stopped in to grab a cake. Taking a bite, he closed his eyes in
mock ecstasy, and he shook the cake in Layna's direction. “You
really will have to tell the cook how wonderful these are, simply
delicious.”
“Well hello, Gryffon. You know Renee, of
course,” Jezebel greeted him, paying no heed to his comment.
Renee stood and extended her hand to him. He
took it gallantly. “Of course, how are you, Renee?” he asked
politely.
She giggled as he quickly passed his lips
over her plump hand, bringing a flush to her cheeks.
He humored her with a quick smile and asked,
“And what's the gossip about today?”
Renee opened her mouth to reply, but Jezebel
cut her off, saying, “We were just discussing whether or not we
think Devon took a trip down to the Golden Girls brothel to pick up
this maid.” She gestured to Layna, narrowing her eyes, and asked,
“What do you think?”
Gryffon looked over at Layna and raised an
eyebrow, “Well, if she was at the Golden Girls, I could hardly
blame Devon for it. If she was there, that's where I'd be too.”
Layna couldn't control the quirk of her lips
into the tiniest of smiles as Gryffon winked at her, though she was
incredulous that he would make such a comment. Luckily, he blocked
her view of Jezebel and by the time he moved she had regained her
solemn look of indifference.
“Well, ta ta ladies, I'm off for the hunt.
It's prime time for those big bucks to be out and I mean