The pale moon hung from the peak of the sky, still looming over the dark forests and the posh mansion. The rumour that happened only minutes ago had faded into the night, and most servants were back at their posts and doing their normal tasks. Except one, the butler, who attended far more serious business than his normal late-night shift of checking each of the servants; the origin of the rumour. He left her on the kitchen table, away from the hassle of cleaning and searching servants, the smell of dinner lightly lingering in the air. He deliberately placed her there, where the delightful smell of baked bread and strong soup would help calm her.
Despite her consciousness and awakened state, the young little girl was still quite stirred and upset, shaking as she poured the cool water down her lips. The small bird-butler that stood by her side seemed equally worried and wary, anticipating the wide palette of responses she might have.
“Feeling any better, Ma’am?”
The little girl seemed unresponsive at first, but after she took another few sips from her cold glass, her colour seemed to fade back.
“Yes, sir.”
Her voice silent and horse, affected by her momentous scream of terror. The feathered ally ruffled his feathers a little.
“Are you able to tell me what upset you, Ma’am?”
He asked, his wing brushing over her back, the soft and well-kept feathers stroking the almost perfect skin.
“Just a nightmare, sir.”
Her legs kicked back and forth, gently knocking against the wooden table she sat on, sometimes hitting a pot stored under it.
“That was quite loud for *just* a nightmare, Ma’am.”
The wing slowly returned to the Swellow’s side, where it stirred around a few times, before settling in his smooth figure.
“It was very scary, sir.”
Her reply left him none-wiser, but he settled with the answer.
“I see, Ma’am. Are you apt for sleeping or does Your Highness require anything?”
His tone polite and straight, hiding his undertone of worry. He kept himself formal, despite the great urge to get low and personal. But that was not his place.
“No please, sir.”
The girl hopped from the table, before the bird showed her back to her bedroom.
The bedroom looked as if it was never used before: curtain bound, sheets straights, the pillows fluffy and filled with air that would hiss out when her head sank into the silk. Her body warm beneath the three layers of silk, wool and another layer of silk, she slowly breathed in and out as she sough sleep behind the closed curtains of the four-poster. Before her rest came, the butler addressed her one final time from the doorway.
“Goodnight, Your Highness. I will attend my nightly examination of your servants, as per usual.”
He spoke, gently closing the large mahogany doors, freshly oiled and silent as the breeze that protruded the slightly opened windows. He made small hops down the hall, hearing whispering and rumouring in a guest bedroom. His feathers perked up as he noticed a small assembly of maids, discussing the previous noise.
“I heard she dreamt of...”
“Not true, there was a rat that...”
The bird’s feather’s stood high as he suddenly unleashed a withdrawn whistle at the group.
“Get back to your duties! You are not to gossip over Her Highness’ condition!”
The small group of avian maids flapped up into the air in a small poof of feathers, before they suddenly returned to their duties, repeating endless apologies.
“Good... such rumours would only harm Her Highness.”
With a huff, the butler left the hall dim, searching for more gossipers to silence.
