Emily and the Lady of the Manor

"All you have to do is stand in the bucket and stomp on the bellgrapes until they stop ringing," Stuart said. "It's quite a lot of fun, really!"

"Isn't it a bit messy?" Emily asked, glancing at her shoes.

"Oh yes, you'll have to take off your shoes first," said Stuart. "And the juices really do go everywhere, so it's best to take everything else off as well."

"Beg your pardon?"

"It's okay, there's a special suit you wear for this, and it's right... over... oh dear."

Stuart looked around the room frantically, darting to and fro and inspecting every corner. "Where has it gone now? How strange, I was certain I left it right here."

"Perhaps it's been taken to the laundry," said Emily, thinking of the sheets she would now have to wash.

"Perhaps..." Stuart echoed. "A pity. But, you know, it's not essential to have the suit."

"I can't get my dress full of bellgrape juice!"

"Definitely not! I wasn't suggesting that."

"Then what were you suggesting?"

A sly grin stretched across Stuart's countenance. "Well, I've heard that some of the best bellwine makers like to do the stomping with nothing on."

Emily gasped, a blush spreading over her face. "Stuart! I am not undressing in front of you!"

"Oh Emily, you wound me!" Stuart cried, looking quite hurt. "I would never suggest such a thing to an upstanding lady like yourself. Rest assured, should you embark on this course, I will depart at once and you can lock the door behind me."

Emily glanced around the room. The windows were all quite high up and the only door into the room was the one they'd entered through. There was a large, heavy-looking key in the door's lock and a bolt beside it. The bellgrapes in the bucket, as Stuart had said, were mostly squashed already.

"I'll do it," Emily said. "Thank you, Stuart."

"It is my pleasure," Stuart replied, bowing low. "Now I bid you adieu, as I make haste for the laundry room and my dear Emily's chores!"

Once Emily had locked and bolted the door behind Stuart, and once his footsteps had receded into the distance, her thoughts turned to disrobing. She was terribly shy and habitually slept in her shift to avoid having to take it off in front of her roommates. The thought of being naked on the job made her queasy. But it did seem the only sensible course of action, so Emily sighed and sat down to remove her shoes.

Shoes, stockings, dress, corset, petticoats, all came off and were folded up neatly and placed in a corner, far from the bucket. Emily stood in her thin shift and hesitated. It surely wouldn't be so bad to get a bit of bellgrape juice on this undergarment, would it? Emily climbed into the bucket, the bellgrapes making small tinkling sounds beneath her soles.

She stood for a moment, motionless. This was the only shift she owned, so it really would be best to keep it clean. And the door was locked and bolted, after all. Mouth set in determination, Emily pulled the shift over her head.

As soon as the shift came off, her hand jerked violently up to her head and, as if controled by a demonic force, tore the bonnet from her head and threw it against the wall. "Aargh!" Emily screamed, jumping on the grapes in frustration. "I--aargh!"

Emily stomped up and down on the grapes angrily, pouring out all of the anger, frustration and hopelessness that had welled up inside her for days. Finally, she was free of the shift, free of the bonnet, free of Lady Elara's control. And, for whatever reason, that meant being naked again. Truly naked, without even the Stoneshell around her neck, though she'd managed to hang onto her trusty hair tie.

Out of the corner of one eye, Emily noticed a small movement on one of the paintings. She immediately turned her head towards it. It was a portrait of a man in a jester's outfit, with an inappropriately long, pale and humorless face. The man's eyes were dark holes, though Emily seemed to remember them being... green.

Ethel's words of warning immediately sprung to mind. A gasping and blushing Emily immediately brought her arms around her chest and angled herself away from the painting. Then, realizing she was now giving Stuart a prime view of her butt, quickly moved her hands behind it.

The lecherous bastard! If Stuart hadn't inadvertently freed her from Lady Elara's spell, Emily would have been quite a lot angrier with him. As it stood, perhaps he could be of some use to her.

"Stuart!" she cried. "Stuart, I know you're there! Come back here at once, I want to talk to you!"

Loud and disorderly sounds of scuffling and banging sounded from behind the painting, and the pale-faced jester's eyes went dark for the last time. Emily wondered for a moment if Stuart had just run away, but soon enough she heard footsteps returning down the hall. "M--miss Emily?" Stuart asked, voice shaking.

"Just a moment!" Emily darted from the bucket, unlocked and unbolted the door, and then darted back into the bucket. Seeing no alternative, she collapsed her legs and let her body sink into the mass of squashed bellgrapes in a cacophany of tinkling. If she hunched a little, only the tops of her breasts were visible above the purple mass.

"You can come in now," Emily said.

The door opened and Stuart's green eyes locked onto Emily's own, growing wide as saucers as he realized she was still naked.

"I--uh--um..." For once, the famous charmer was at a loss for words.

"Save it," Emily said, trying to sound more tough than she felt. "I know what you were after, and you got your peek. Now you owe me a favor."

"Yes, anything!" Stuart said, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Is Lady Elara in the tower right now?"

"She's barely left it for the last week."

"I need you to make her leave it. Create a distraction, or cause some disturbance that gets her out of that tower. I don't care what. Just do it, and come back here once it's done. Then do everything you can to keep her occupied for as long as possible, okay?"

Stuart nodded violently. "I'll do it. But why?"

The question blindsided Emily. For a moment, she felt like she was losing the upper hand in the situation. Desperate times call for desperate measures. After taking a deep breath in and out, Emily stood up. "Because I asked nicely."

Stuart's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head, pupils dilating at the sight of Emily's uncovered body, slick and dripping with bellgrape juices. For her part, Emily blushed furiously and fought every instinct to cover up. "Come here," she said, trying to sound sultry.

Stuart staggered over to the bucket, eyes still glued to Emily's body. Emily leaned forward and pecked his cheek. "Thanks for helping me, Stuart."

Now it was Stuart's turn to blush and squirm. Emily reached out a hand, touched his cheek gently, then pulled back and slapped him.

"Ow!"

"That's for being a pervert! Now go! Remember your orders!"

Stuart nodded again and rushed off, but not without numerous glances over his shoulder until he was out of sight. Mortified and more than a little ashamed, Emily dropped back down into the bucket and tried to submerge herself as deeply as possible into the tinkling grapes. She'd always prided herself on being a smart, resourceful girl, not needing to sink to emotional or sexual manipulation like other women. Hopefully, Stuart wouldn't be expecting anything further for his trouble.

She had played the cards she was dealt, and if she could get the Stoneshell back and escape with Aria, it would all be worth it. Even the streak she was about to take across the manor.

Could she ask Stuart for any of his clothes, once he returned? No, he would need to continue distracting Lady Elara, and it would be too suspicious if he appeared without his tunic, or wearing something different. And how could Emily trust any of the clothes in this place, after what she had just been through? As far as she knew, none of the other servants were magical slaves, as she had been--she had seen the other girls wash, and Stuart seemed only too keen to break rules and cause mischief. They all seemed to have been fed the same story about Emily being a madwoman.

She would have to streak to the tower, then. That was how her luck seemed to go these days.

Rapid footfalls sounded from down the hallway and Stuart burst through the door, panting for breath, a stack of books under one arm. "Mistress away from the tower--magic accident--fetching her books--aren't you going to get dressed?"

Emily bit her lip. "Not for an audience! Thank you, Stuart, please keep Lady Elara away from the tower as long as you can."

"Yes ma'am!" Stuart saluted before turning tail and running off.

Stepping out of the bellgrape bucket and dripping on the floor, Emily noted the similarities between her current situation and her arrival in Castle Elid. The main difference was her sense of urgency. However good Stuart's distraction, Elara could only be occupied so long. The manor was crawling with servants, who would certainly not tolerate her streaking through the halls, let alone entering their mistress's private tower.

Emily reminded herself of this as she stepped across the doorframe of the bellgrape threshing room and into the long hallway, leaving her enchanted clothes far behind. There was no time to dwell on the danger of her mission, or on her exposure. But that didn't mean she could stop herself from doing either.

Clinging to a wall on one side of the hallway, Emily walked cautiously forward, ears primed for the sound of movement or voices. Her arms were pressed against her body, though that offered limited coverage. If she encountered anyone, she would have to duck into one of the rooms. But what if the door she tried was locked? Emily shook off the thought and quickened her pace.

The hallway eventually snaked out into the manor's grand foyer, a disgustingly cavernous space for a naked girl. Worse still, she could hear voices! Emily sprinted for a large tapestry hanging from the ceiling to the floor and hid behind it.

Just as she settled into her hiding place, a male and female servant entered the foyer.

"That Stuart boy's really gone and done it now," said the male servant.

"I 'eard the commotion, but what were it about?" the female servant asked.

"Bloody fool left a gryphon cage open," the male servant continued. "Shouldn't be messing with those things. They've had to summon the Mistress herself to catch it. She's none too pleased."

"Never did like gryphons."

"Me either, but our Lady has her fancies."

Once the servants' voices had disappeared down a corridor, Emily peeked out from behind the tapestry. The foyer was empty. She felt a pang of guilt at having been the cause of Stuart getting into such trouble. It did seem to be an effective distraction though, but it would be all for naught if she didn't hurry to the tower.

Up the stairs, to the right, down the corridor, taking the first left. Emily had done enough different jobs in the manor to have a pretty good sense of its layout. Though she hadn't been able to think properly about much with that infernal bonnet squeezing her head, it hadn't stopped her from mentally mapping out the manor. The tower wasn't far now.

Emily turned the next corner and heard a shocked gasp that made her blood run cold. Standing just in front of her was Gladys, her dark-haired roommate. Gladys's eyes were large and round, and the duster she'd been holding had fallen to the floor. "E--Emily!" she cried.

Standing frozen, Emily's eyes locked with Gladys's. Her mind spun out, panicking. She was caught! It was over!

No! Emily told herself to calm down. She'd been seen by one person, and she was so close to the tower. Recalling how she'd reacted to Ethel's madwoman story, Emily knew just how to deal with Gladys.

Throwing her head back, Emily let out a strange cry, "Wahahahaha!" Then she pulled her arms from her body and shook them around, jumping erratically from side to side. Not believing what she was doing, she loped towards Gladys, flailing her arms in a manner that she hoped was sufficiently crazy and menacing.

It worked. "M--madwoman!" Gladys shrieked, her face turning white as a sheet. Then she fainted.

Emily rushed forward and managed to catch Gladys's head before it hit anything hard or sharp. She was out cold, completely unresponsive. Emily gently laid her head down on the carpet. Briefly, she considered taking Gladys's clothes but decided that she'd tormented the poor girl enough. It would take too long to get them off her anyway.

Soon after leaving Gladys, Emily reached a non-descript wooden door at the end of the corridor that opened up to the base of a very narrow spiral staircase. She had reached the tower.

Emily stepped through the door and began ascending the staircase, grateful for the narrow space and relative darkness. After numerous turns, the staircase finally opened up to a circular stone chamber--Lady Elara's private magical workroom.

Heavy mahogany bookshelves lined the walls of the chamber, stuffed with books on all kinds of magic. Surveying the titles, Emily noted "Alchemy of Stardust", "Zephyrs of the Eastern Winds", "Possession Charms for Beginners" and "Investigations into the Essence of Life". Gnarled, ancient tomes were set next to fresh, manuscripts, and rolls of parchment peered out from every nook and cranny.

On a grand desk positioned at the center of the chamber lay a chaos of papers filled with cryptic symbols, and vials of multi-hued liquids. A large space had been cleared in the middle of the desk.

Beside the desk, an open book entitled "Magical Artifacts of Western Thessolan" rested on a stand. It was open to a page containing an illustration of the Stoneshell, surrounded by beautiful calligraphic script.

"The Stoneshell is believed to have been carved by Thurseus Irontail, the first Emperor of Mer," Emily read. "Made from rock originating from the deepest part of the Trench of Trule, it was intended as a betrothal gift to a human woman, Evangeline, whom Thurseus had fallen madly in love with. Evangeline was delighted with the gift and gleefully accepted Thurseus's proposal."

On the opposite page, a smaller illustration depicted a handsome, muscular merman half-submerged in water offering the Stoneshell to a woman standing on the shore.

Emily read on. "Once the Stoneshell left the water, Evangeline discovered that it allowed her to summon fire, which warmed but did not burn her. With this power, she became a formidable sorceress. Some sources ascribe other powers to the Stoneshell--healing, flight, powerful sight and hearing, even clairvoyance--but fire is the only one generally accepted by magical scholars."

Emily let out a low whistle. What if those other powers really did exist?

"As scholars of history will know, Thurseus Irontail was assassinated the day before he was to marry Evangeline, and his empire splintered shortly afterwards. Sources differ on the fate of Evangeline. The Stoneshell was thought to be lost for centuries, before coming into the possession of Raja, a founding member of the Order of Mages. He began a tradition of adding additional small enchantments to the artifact, which is detailed in the next section."

So the Stoneshell was not just a betrothal gift, but a betrothal gift from a man who died before he could marry his love. Emily looked at the illustration of Thurseus and Evangeline again and could feel tears coming to her eyes. Sniffing, she turned the page.

"The Stoneshell is a borne artifact, which chooses its bearer. Its power cannot be wielded by any but its bearer. In the hands of a non-bearer, it increases in weight and may appear in different locations than where it was set down."

Emily glanced at the large empty space on the desk. Presumably, the Stoneshell had been sitting there until quite recently. But where was it now?

"Looking for this?" A calm, syrupy voice spoke from behind Emily, making her nearly jump out of her skin. She turned around to face Lady Aria, who wore a cruel smirk as she dangled the Stoneshell from her fingers.

Emily chided herself for getting so absorbed in reading that she had allowed Elara to sneak up on her.

"You didn't really think I'd just leave this lying around for anyone to find, did you?" Elara said. "I keep it with me at all times. As you may have read, it has a habit of disappearing."

Emily scowled. Here was the woman who had enslaved her and stolen her most important possession, taunting her. And she was defenseless--literally naked.

Elara cast a disdainful eye up and down Emily's body. "Didn't you like the outfit I picked out for you? I thought it rather suited you. You certainly looked more comfortable."

"Y--you enslaved me!" Emily screamed, balling her hands into fists. "You're a thief and an evil, evil woman!"

Elara regarded the Stoneshell dangling from her fingers. "An artifact as powerful as this does not belong in the hands of a silly young girl who can't even keep her clothes on for five minutes! You don't know the first thing about magic! You haven't studied, or sacrificed like I have!"

The venom in Elara's words caused Emily to shrink back, cowering against the desk and covering herself with her hair and hands. In Elara's hand, the Stoneshell moved slightly, as if pulled by an invisible force.

"Yes, cower like the dog you are," Elara spat. "Bessie is on her way with a new outfit for you. The design is greatly improved and imbued with much more powerful magic. It's just a necklace this time, as that's the only thing you seem to want to wear. You won't be cavorting with any servant boys in this one, but I'm sure they'll appreciate the view."

"Bitch!" Emily screamed. The Stoneshell moved again. Emily focused her eyes on it, willing it to come to her.

Elara raised a palm, as if ready to strike Emily. "Stupid, worthless little whore!"

At this, the Stoneshell jumped free of Elara's grasp. She gasped as the necklace sailed through the air, spun around neatly, and hovered above Emily's head for a moment dropping onto her shoulders.

"W--what?! How?!" Elara shrieked.

"I have no idea," snarled Emily, rising up from her crouch. "After all, I'm just a stupid girl who can't keep her clothes on!"

Savoring the fear in Elara's eyes, Emily thrust her right hand forward. Instantly, without her even giving the mental command, a massive ball of flame erupted from her palm. It shot outwards and upwards, blasting through an open window a few feet above Elara's head.

Elara stumbled backwards, tripping over a rug and stumbling backwards into a bookcase. Another fireball appeared in Emily's palm, and she thrust it out between them as she dove for the exit. She was out, down the spiral staircase two steps at a time, almost tripping, blackening the stone wall with the fire in her palm.

Bursting out of the door to the tower, Emily saw Bessie coming up the corridor towards her, a dragonfly necklace on a heavy chain held out in front of her. But Bessie's face turned white as a sheet when she saw Emily, angry, naked and carrying flame in her right hand. The necklace fell from her hands, and she immediately turned around and ran as fast as her stubby legs could carry her.

Emily raced down the corridor, through the foyer and around to the back of the manor. The flame in her palm grew bigger, and she could feel the adrenaline in every limb.

Aria stood in the doorway to the garden, stopping midstride and crying out in joy as her eyes met Emily's. The reunited companions ran towards each other and embraced, Emily holding the flame out behind Aria's back, tears in both their eyes.

"I was free the instant I saw a fireball shoot out from the top of the tower," Aria said. "That was your doing, I trust."

"I'm so sorry, Aria," Emily replied, barely hearing her. "She--she made me give up the Stoneshell."