The Lost Princess

"How do you do with the dark?" Mrs. Stevens led me through the winding curves of Moore Manor the clicking of her heels filling the otherwise silent hallways. The walls were littered with antique-looking art and sculptures, the dark blue wallpaper amplifying the feeling of being stifled.     "I'm alright with it ma'am," I answered her question with a nervous laugh. "I was trained at the Willows' residence. They sent my letter of recommendation."     "I read your resume, but the Moore Manor is quite different from Willows' you must have heard?" Mrs. Stevens was a wisp of a woman. With a bun so tightly pulled back the wrinkles on her face had been smoothed out.      "I applied for the position with full knowledge of the situation. Or at least as much knowledge as the news allows." We turned to a significantly darker hallway. Before going further Mrs. Stevens stopped at a table placed along the wall and pulled from within it a small oil lamp. She lit it and a soft glow enveloped us.     "Ms. Moore has remained bedridden the better part of ten years. Her minds gone now but I raised her when she was young." Mrs. Steven's voice hardened as we made our way further into the darkened house. "The tragic death of Mr. and Mrs. Moore left the poor girl all alone. I couldn't bear to leave her here so I've stayed. But I'm getting on in my years and I need a helping hand."     Moore Manor had stood eerily on the solitary hill far away from the town of Crestview. The legend of its haunted halls had made it the target of mal meaning teens, I could remember a time in high school when I'd stood at the gates with a group of friends. No one had ever seen anyone come in or out and the desolate outward appearance only augmented the belief that ghosts lived here. Or at the very least the popular rumor was that the current head of the house was an old hobbled woman with a missing eye.     "So you hired a butler." I'd worked in the Willow Manor during my youth and had mostly tended the garden before being trained for butlering.      "I need a young man for some of the heavier repairs. As I said I'm getting along in years and I can't expect myself to do all I need to." Mrs. Stevens finally stopped at the end of the hallway. A large door stood in front of us. "Before you meet her is there anything you wish to know?"     "Why is it so dark here?" I glanced pointedly at the tightly shut curtains. Outside it was probably closer to ten now but still, the sun was up in the sky when I'd first walked in.     "The light hurts her eyes." Mrs. Stevens raised a hand and quietly rapped against the door. "Straighten your spine and don't be too shocked by what you are about to witness."     Then she pushed the door open and I followed after her inside.     "Macy is that you?" A soft melodic voice called from within. My jaw threatened to drop as my gaze landed on the bed. Pale skin matted with sweat the girl looked no older than eighteen, dark circles beneath her eyes made them more prominent in the dim glow of the oil lamp.     "Eloise I've brought the new hire."     "The butler?" Her glowy eyes flickered to me and her dry cracked lips pulled upwards in a smile. "Jonah was is it?"     "Ryan Jonas." I corrected her swallowing past the lump in my throat.     Her smile broadened but she twisted away her body shaking as she coughed harshly into her mattress cover. Mrs. Stevens shoved the oil lamp into my hands and moved to the side of the bed pulling a glass cup filled with what I thought was water. Eloise hungrily chugged the drink and with the help of Mrs. Stevens laid back in her bed.     Minutes later it became clear that Eloise had fallen asleep.     "Grab that will you," Mrs. Stevens stood hastily and pointed at the foot of the bed where a blanket had been discarded; She wiped her hands on the front end of her dress and I carried the blankets out.     "What's wrong with her?" I asked once we were out into the lighted part of the manor. Mrs. Stevens had me place the oil lamp back in the table before grabbing the pile of blankets from my hands.     "She'll come and go most days. No doctor can say what's truly wrong with her, they call it a mental prison." I followed her down to the laundry room. "For whatever reason, she's very sick in the head and physically...well she stays in bed. Your job will be to care for her and this house. I can't climb the stairs as much as I have in the past."     "So I got the job?"      "Mr. Jonas you have the job."                                                                                                     # "Does this mean you actually saw the old hag?" Lauren was perched at the end of my bd passing a rolled up blunt back and forth between Shane and herself. Her green eyes were their usual dimness and Shane laughed.     "She's not old." I busied myself pulling my clothes from my closet to pack in the duffel bag I was taking with me to Moore Manor. I learned it was better to pack light so much of my remaining belongings would be given to Shane, my roommate, and the rest donated to a thrift shop. "She's sick though. Apparently even the lady taking care of her doesn't know what's wrong with her."     "I can't believe the young fledgling is leaving the nest. You won't forget us poor folk will you?" Shane slid out of his bed and came to throw an arm around my shoulder. "Butlers get paid three times as much as servents do. And you do owe me dinner..."     "I'll visit on the weekends," I rolled my shoulder and turned to zip up my bag. Lauren placed her hands over the top and leaned up towards me. I rolled my eyes at her pouted lips but nevertheless placed a peck there.     "Text me once you get to your new bed. And make sure you don't fall in love with anyone else." Lauren grinned and for a second her green eyes were the vibrant I had known long ago. "At the very least don't bag the old lady, I'll never forgive you."     "Wouldn't dream of it," I assured her and hoisted my bag over my shoulder.      Lauren was the love of my life...I think. I could imagine a life with her we would have two children one named Sarah the other Johnny. We'd raise them in Crestview and watched them grow. That was her vision for us, and I was inclined to make it come true.     Walking out of the servant's quarters I greeted the faces of my co-workers and waved as I passed by. Much of my time at the Willow Mansion had been spent in training these past few years so I wasn't overly sad that I was leaving the mansion.     As I approached the door which would lead outside, and subsequently to the black car borrowed from the Moore Manor, a soft thunk made me look down. A large-eyed woman blinked up at me soft chocolate melting under the rays of the light from outside. Her curls were in disarray on her head but she wore the black and white uniform of the maids of Willow Mansion.     "You're the new butler--er rather the old one aren't you." She narrowed her eyes studying me intently. I took a cautious step back and offered her a nervous smile.     "I'm sorry that we never met."     "Nah it's fine, we were never meant to. I heard you were going to Moore now, and I knew I had to meet you." Her eyes turned glassy. "My family worked for the Moores' since they first came to this town. I thought I should greet you on your way out but I didn't think I'd catch you."     "What did you say your name was?"     "Lucy Hagwil." She sighed. "I lasted two years into all the madness before I had to leave. For my own health, I'm sure you'll understand."     "Pardon me, but what can I do for you? I'm already late to return to the Manor as it is." I was growing impatient.     "You were probably too young to remember but the media was in a frenzy about it, the crash I mean. Mr. and Mrs. Moore taken away so young. Well, we servents had a rumor around that." She leaned toward me. "On a sunny day the chauffeur who'd driven them millions of times before suddenly losing control of the wheel? Not one of us believed it."     "What are you suggesting?"     "Well, the rumor was that the young couple had been gotten rid of, by some greedy relative. And who is in charge of the wealth now? Krystal Weber."     "Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "What do I gain from knowing some old gossip?"     She stepped back and wiped her hands at the front of her uniform. "I have a feeling, something in my gut telling me you ought to know. So I thought I would tell you what's what. What with her being all alone up there Elosie should have someone on her side. Take care of her for us."     "I'll do my job." I assured her side-stepping her. "Now if you don't mind I have to go."     "Good luck Ryan Jonas, you'll need it."     When I turned to ask just how she knew my name she was already gone.