"When the angry giant roared, the gods opened the second gate for us."

  —Salman, Historian, The Annals of Godma, Volume II, Chapter 4: The Double Breach

  "Next."

  The herald's voice boomed, audible even beyond the oaken door. She drew a steadying breath, smoothed the folds of her dress, and stepped inside.

  "Kristina Petrova."

  The corpulent woman behind the wooden desk peered through her reading spectacles, lifting a parchment dense with script. "Any discrepancies?"

  "None whatsoever," the young woman replied without hesitation. "I am Kristina Petrova. I seek the position of princess's handmaiden."

  "You and countless others, miss." The woman gestured dismissively toward the entrance. "The queue of applicants stretches to the ground floor. Why do none of you consider the kitchens? Yes, it's sweltering work, but at least one might pilfer the occasional morsel."

  "I..." Kristina's cheeks colored slightly. Her brown hair was cropped short, lending her an air of practical efficiency. "I possess no skills beyond infant care. And regrettably, my cooking is rather... inedible."

  "This marks the first instance I've witnessed an applicant disparage herself during an interview." The plump woman adjusted the thick braid at the nape of her neck. "Yet self-awareness of one's limitations is a quality both rare and commendable." Her gaze fixed on Kristina. "Does it not strike you as peculiar that Her Majesty the Queen recruits handmaidens from beyond the palace walls—even from provincial backwaters—rather than employing those already within her court? I find it most curious that not one applicant has thought to question this."

  "Perhaps... a shortage of suitable personnel?"

  "Hmph," the interviewer's mouth twisted into a contemptuous sneer, fleshy cheeks bunching toward her ears. "At least you're not utterly devoid of intelligence. That is indeed part of the reason. The palace staff has diminished considerably; numerous ladies-in-waiting have retreated with their lords to their ancestral estates. The pretext is defensive preparation, but in my estimation," she added mordantly, "it's nothing but cowardice." (That fat woman sure is blunt.) "The second reason is that Her Majesty's attendants possess not the slightest aptitude for infant care. They spend their days in hysterical anxiety and their nights in prayer amid soiled linens and incessant wailing. They would discard an entire cradle over a blanket with the merest hint of soil. This is why the queen requires individuals versed in childcare. Naturally," she scratched her broad, oily forehead, "not just any peasant can stand here enduring my discourse. A proper recommendation is essential. To the matter at hand, Petrova. Have you any experience with infants? You appear quite youthful."

  "Indeed I do, madam. While I've borne no children myself, I tended to my sister's infant."

  The plump woman nodded contemplatively. "Petrova... you hail from Paripha?"

  "I was born in Paripha but subsequently relocated to Cynthia. I am now a citizen of Cynthia."

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  "And the cause? Paripha lies distant from our borders. To Northern eyes, you're a Southerner."

  "War," she lowered her gaze. "The Godman invasion."

  The plump woman continued scrutinizing the parchment. "Your testimonial comes from Duke Raponfon of Crividsylvan. The duke rarely condescends to provide letters of recommendation. What connection exists between you?"

  "I... previously served as nursemaid to the duke's children."

  "You tended to the duke's offspring?" The woman's voice escalated sharply. "Then why this omission from your earlier statements? Do you consider your assistance to your sister more significant than service to a duke?"

  "No, absolutely not!" The short-haired woman faltered, visibly flustered. "I simply... lack eloquence. I struggle with... articulation."

  "Reticence isn't necessarily a liability. We seek a handmaiden, not a court gossipmonger." She turned the recommendation letter over. "Attending the princess within the royal palace will differ markedly from your previous employments. Do you comprehend this?"

  Kristina Petrova's eyes widened perceptibly. "Am I to understand... that I've been... selected?"

  "That depends entirely on your present performance—how you conduct yourself during this interview. Your background appears unblemished, you possess relevant experience, and you carry a reputable recommendation." The plump woman adjusted her spectacles impatiently. "Now address my question."

  "Forgive me... I'm not entirely certain."

  "You will reside alongside the princess's wet nurse. Save for necessary ablutions and personal hygiene, you are forbidden from leaving the princess's side. Is this clear?"

  Kristina nodded.

  "Verbalize your response. In the palace, a servant's nod goes utterly unregarded."

  "I understand completely, madam."

  The interviewer nodded curtly. "Furthermore, while the official designation suggests you'll merely assist the wet nurse, in truth, you are the princess's personal attendant. Your responsibility extends beyond daily care to serving as her protector in moments of peril. To facilitate the princess's acclimation to court protocols and personnel, we have no intention of regularly replacing her attendants. You may serve Princess Rebecca indefinitely, perhaps even advancing to lady-in-waiting—contingent upon exceptional service."

  "I understand fully, madam."

  "Lastly, govern your tongue. We don't stop the maids from gossiping about the palace, but not on the job. And keep all the nasty stuff away from the princess--especially rumors. Exercise your discretion in these matters. However, remember this," her spectacles caught and reflected the candlelight menacingly, "You might think you're right, but you could be wrong. But when we decide you're wrong, you're definitely wrong. Get it?"

  "Absolutely, madam."

  "Excellent. I nearly neglected formal introductions. I am Baroness Korne." She removed her spectacles. "Kristina Petrova, consider yourself employed."

  The short-haired woman's elation nearly rendered her senseless. "Contain your enthusiasm, girl. Before assuming your duties, you must meet the wet nurse and another handmaiden."

  Kristina Petrova appeared thunderstruck. "Another... handmaiden?"

  "Indeed, a second attendant who will serve the princess alongside you."

  "But... I received no indication that two maids would be engaged..."

  "Naturally we wouldn't broadcast such details. The palace would be inundated with applicants." The baroness's tone dripped with disdain. "What troubles you? Are you averse to collaborative work? Regardless of your capabilities, we cannot entrust all the princess's needs to a single attendant. Should this arrangement displease you, feel free to relinquish the position to someone more accommodating. And don't forget," she held up the recommendation letter, "to take this with you upon departure."

  "That was not my intended meaning, Baroness." The short-haired woman extended her hand impulsively before quickly withdrawing it. "I am most pleased to... collaborate with others."

  The baroness set the parchment aside. "Mistress Hubbard, this young lady is now under your supervision." She called toward a side door. "She serves as the princess's wet nurse. Follow her now and commence your duties."