“How many times have I told you not to sit on the grass?” the woman demanded. She was the woman who hovered over every aspect of the palace, making sure everything was in its place and tidy. I was often the object of her scrutiny.
“I know, Della,” I said. “But the bird-”
She glanced at the bird in my lap. “Oh. That. It will be taken care of.”
I had the feeling that her idea of “taking care of” the bird differed slightly from mine.
“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “I can handle it.”
“I will not allow you to do a servant’s work.” Della bent down and grabbed my arm in her iron fist. The woman was strong for her diminutive stature, and easily pulled me to my feet. The bird fell with a chirp to the ground.
I whirled to face her. “How dare you lay a hand on me!” I said, trying to put the strength of authority into my voice. It didn’t work.
“Come along, girl,” Della said, ignoring me. I braced my feet, but she still managed to pull me along behind her. We got a few steps toward the door when I heard heavy footsteps coming from behind. I twisted in the foul woman’s grip to see a heavily armored man approaching. He made his way across the grass toward us.