All Across Time
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Chapter 3:- Medieval Castle Part 2
The next day, Anastasia woke up peacefully, having had the foresight to close and bar all the shutters and the door before she went to bed the night before. She put on her dressing gown and opened the door where she was met by an anxious maid about to knock on the door.
"M-My Lady, you're awake," the maid said, backing up. "Should I have your wash water sent up?"
"Yes, please," Anastasia said pleasantly. The maid scuttled away. Anastasia wandered down the hallway, wondering why the place looked so unfamiliar. Surely she had lived here a long time? Wracking her brain, it started looking a little more familiar. Suddenly, a door a little way ahead of her opened and a young man stepped out. He seemed much closer to her nineteen years of age than her husband. He smiled cheerfully at here, revealing white teeth and dimples, and called out a greeting.
"Do I know you?" Anastasia asked, smiling back.
"Alman, at your service, ma'am," he said. " One of the gardeners," he added.
"Nice to meet you," Anastasia said, still smiling. She couldn't make herself look away from his sparkling blue eyes. Suddenly, the panicked voice of a maid reached them.
"My Lady?" she called. Anastasia grimaced.
"I'd better go," she said.
"I'll see you around," Alman whispered, and disappeared. Anastasia made her way back to her room, where she reassured the frightened maid that she was not missing, and did not blame her in the slightest for taking so long with the water and soap.
A short while later, once Anastasia had finished breakfast, she headed back upstairs. She collected her embroidery basket and settled in one of the windowless sitting rooms to avoid the siege. It was a generic, boring day, but the highlight came when Alman brought her afternoon tea.
"Aren't you a gardener?" Anastasia asked quizzically.
"According to the house keeper, I must earn my pay. And I could not resist seeing a beautiful lady such as yourself again."
"So you became a tea maid," Anastasia snorted, before becoming more suitably serious again. "Thank you for your service, Alman," she said primly.
"My pleasure, Milady," Alman said. He bowed, somewhat mockingly. "Really, if there is anything you require, anything at all, you have but to ask. Anything," he added, waggling his eyebrows. This elicited a laugh from Anastasia, and she put aside her embroidery.
"Sit down," she chuckled, indicating the chair near hers. "I'm bored."
"Your wish is my command," he said setting the tray down between the chairs and sitting. He poured her a cup of tea and helped himself to a pastry. Their conversation progressed from there.
The rest of the afternoon passed in suitable entertainment, until another maid came up to tell Anastasia that her husband was in for dinner. She looked utterly scandalized by the fact that Anastasia and Alman were sitting alone behind a closed door, leaning towards each other.
"Your husband is in for the night," the woman said, addressing only Anastasia and emphasizing the word husband.
"I'll be right down," Anastasia said graciously. The maid curtsied and left, eying Alman suspiciously. "I suppose I'd better go," she added regretfully.
"Yes, you'd better. We wouldn't want your husband thinking you were....up to something," he murmured.
"He didn't really strike me as the jealous sort."
"Odd. Servants' gossip is usually accurate. I've heard he keeps you watched."
"He..." Anastasia paused. She wasn't sure why she couldn't remember anything about her relationship with her husband. "When did we get married?" she asked instead. Alman looked at her strangely.
"You should really go to dinner," he said, instead of answering. Anastasia nodded, smiling. She rose, curtsied politely, and left the room.
In the dining room, Anastasia's husband seemed considerably colder than the night before. Perhaps someone had let him know how she had spent her day. Dinner was an unpleasant affair, as food was scarce and conversation was scarcer. Anastasia, who was beginning to feel more comfortable in this environment (though she still had no idea what had caused the memory loss), vowed that she would visit her husband on the wall tomorrow to show her devotion. After, perhaps, a morning tea with Alman...
The next day, Anastasia woke up peacefully, having had the foresight to close and bar all the shutters and the door before she went to bed the night before. She put on her dressing gown and opened the door where she was met by an anxious maid about to knock on the door.
"M-My Lady, you're awake," the maid said, backing up. "Should I have your wash water sent up?"
"Yes, please," Anastasia said pleasantly. The maid scuttled away. Anastasia wandered down the hallway, wondering why the place looked so unfamiliar. Surely she had lived here a long time? Wracking her brain, it started looking a little more familiar. Suddenly, a door a little way ahead of her opened and a young man stepped out. He seemed much closer to her nineteen years of age than her husband. He smiled cheerfully at here, revealing white teeth and dimples, and called out a greeting.
"Do I know you?" Anastasia asked, smiling back.
"Alman, at your service, ma'am," he said. " One of the gardeners," he added.
"Nice to meet you," Anastasia said, still smiling. She couldn't make herself look away from his sparkling blue eyes. Suddenly, the panicked voice of a maid reached them.
"My Lady?" she called. Anastasia grimaced.
"I'd better go," she said.
"I'll see you around," Alman whispered, and disappeared. Anastasia made her way back to her room, where she reassured the frightened maid that she was not missing, and did not blame her in the slightest for taking so long with the water and soap.
A short while later, once Anastasia had finished breakfast, she headed back upstairs. She collected her embroidery basket and settled in one of the windowless sitting rooms to avoid the siege. It was a generic, boring day, but the highlight came when Alman brought her afternoon tea.
"Aren't you a gardener?" Anastasia asked quizzically.
"According to the house keeper, I must earn my pay. And I could not resist seeing a beautiful lady such as yourself again."
"So you became a tea maid," Anastasia snorted, before becoming more suitably serious again. "Thank you for your service, Alman," she said primly.
"My pleasure, Milady," Alman said. He bowed, somewhat mockingly. "Really, if there is anything you require, anything at all, you have but to ask. Anything," he added, waggling his eyebrows. This elicited a laugh from Anastasia, and she put aside her embroidery.
"Sit down," she chuckled, indicating the chair near hers. "I'm bored."
"Your wish is my command," he said setting the tray down between the chairs and sitting. He poured her a cup of tea and helped himself to a pastry. Their conversation progressed from there.
The rest of the afternoon passed in suitable entertainment, until another maid came up to tell Anastasia that her husband was in for dinner. She looked utterly scandalized by the fact that Anastasia and Alman were sitting alone behind a closed door, leaning towards each other.
"Your husband is in for the night," the woman said, addressing only Anastasia and emphasizing the word husband.
"I'll be right down," Anastasia said graciously. The maid curtsied and left, eying Alman suspiciously. "I suppose I'd better go," she added regretfully.
"Yes, you'd better. We wouldn't want your husband thinking you were....up to something," he murmured.
"He didn't really strike me as the jealous sort."
"Odd. Servants' gossip is usually accurate. I've heard he keeps you watched."
"He..." Anastasia paused. She wasn't sure why she couldn't remember anything about her relationship with her husband. "When did we get married?" she asked instead. Alman looked at her strangely.
"You should really go to dinner," he said, instead of answering. Anastasia nodded, smiling. She rose, curtsied politely, and left the room.
In the dining room, Anastasia's husband seemed considerably colder than the night before. Perhaps someone had let him know how she had spent her day. Dinner was an unpleasant affair, as food was scarce and conversation was scarcer. Anastasia, who was beginning to feel more comfortable in this environment (though she still had no idea what had caused the memory loss), vowed that she would visit her husband on the wall tomorrow to show her devotion. After, perhaps, a morning tea with Alman...
