My room was still the same way I left it, except it wasn't dirty. I could see that it was daily cleaned, it was just like Mother had been anticipating my coming. I settled down on my couch beside the window. It was already the fourth hour, and the sun was beating down restlessly, its intense rays casting a stark glare over the landscape. Father should be back by now, I thought to myself.
On my desk lay freshly cut flowers, Mother's thoughtful touch evident on their delicate petals. The nice fragrance wafting from them reminded me to freshen up. I rang the bell to beckon the servant assigned to me. As I was about to ring it for the fourth time, frustration already lining my face, the door suddenly burst open, revealing Theresa.
"Mi'lord, you called for me?" she asked.
"Yes, prepare my bath," I ordered.
"Yes, Mi'lord," she said, bowing.
After she stepped out. I took off my clothes, which had a dinstict foul smell coming from them, making me wonder where they came from. "It cannot be from the brothel, can it?" I asked myself, puzzled. I took the linen lain on my bed and sat waiting for Theresa.
"Mi'lord," she called outside my room. "Come in," I replied. "Your bath is ready, Sir."
Entering into my private bath, which was an extension of my room, its large room and luxury couldn't be compared to the one I had in Greece.
My bath attendants assisted me in getting into the bath and gently removed my linen. Warm water was poured, and the temperature was a soothing balm to my aching bones. After I was well scrubbed with scented soaps and rubbed with various scented oils, I ordered my bath attendants to step aside as I wanted to soak myself in the water for a few minutes.
"But Mi'lord, you might catch a cold," a servant whose face I couldn't place said.
"I said give me a moment of peace, dimwit," I replied irritatedly.
"Yes, Mi'lord," he said as he scrambled to meet the others.
While still in the water, I remembered how I almost got burnt in a bath prepared by a servant when I was still a child, between the ages of 13-14. My mother had always prepared our baths since she gave birth to us, which was rather unusual for a noblewoman to concern herself with the trivial task of overseeing a bath, that was the work of the servants, but my mother wasn't a noble from birth; she gained her nobility through marriage, I guess that's why her ways are so different. But on this particular day, she decided to stop bathing me and leave it to the servants.
There was a law that no one knows how it came to be established - that in Rome, each member of a noble family must own a servant when they come of age. Just like Agnes was assigned to Mother when she married father, she has been with her since then, through her childbearing phase, and now that we have come of age, she has never left Mother's side, even when Mother decided to give her her freedom; she insisted on not leaving.
Being the servant assigned to the lady of the house made her automatically the steward of the house. Father, instead, refused to have any assigned servant on the basis that he could take care of himself, which made sense, given the many servants at his disposal; he didn't need a personal one assigned to him.
My sister, too, when she came of age - that was when she was in her sixteenth year - a servant was assigned to her, whose name I couldn't remember. But not two months had passed when the servant came running to Mother, saying Miss Emily was violent towards her. Mother, who couldn't tolerate maltreatment of servants, reprimanded Emily seriously, but that didn't stop her from behaving badly towards other servants that were assigned to her.
She had so many servants, I lost count of the number, which made Mother furious and she was left with no assigned servant. It has been heard of,but it's still strange to see a young lady without an assigned servant.
When I later asked her if she was happy with the arrangement, she said she was so glad because she had never wanted a maid to follow her sheepishly like a puppy looking for milk. "It sickens me when they follow me around, depriving me of breathing space," she said.
"But I can do anything I want without Theresa bothering me," I countered. She looked me in the eyes, her gaze unwavering: "You are a male; the privileges you enjoy, I can't. You can go about all you want, you can even have sex with multiples and visit brothels and indulge in activities which I dare not involve myself in."
"But when I, as a female, decide to do so, I will be shamed and called names. I can't be myself because of society, and I'm sure Father is thinking of a man he will give my hand in marriage to strengthen and advance his alliances. I can't marry for love, but you can."
"I'm a pawn in this miserable game of power, used and reused over and over again, then tossed away when I'm no longer of benefit."
"And this personal assigned maid was originally meant for us, the Ladies, to keep us in check - to remind us that we are prey, and they are the predators. You boys were only included for your unchecked thirst and hunger."
"You think I don't know that you sleep with your assigned servant, Marcus?" She said, hatred clutching her every word.
"Emily," I said, reaching out my hands to hold her. "I don't; I have never thought of it like that. I'm so sorry, I'm sorry."
"You're not a prey," I said as I lifted my face to gaze at her. The way she looked at me made me stumble over my words; It was a look of pure contempt.
I don't like my sister looking at me in such a manner; she is my everything, and I will give up my life for her in a heartbeat.
"Emily," I said again, holding her face in my two palms. "I'm sorry. I promise I will not allow you to be married off to an old hag or a young foolish man, I will protect you all my life," I said, hugging her close to me.
"I know, Marcus. I know you will protect me," she said, laughing as she detached herself from me. She was now looking at me with that love in her eyes that seemed to see me as her hero - and that's what I will always be to her, I said, making a promise to myself.
I, on the other hand, was given an assigned servant in my fourteenth year; her name was Philippa. On this fateful day, Philippa was to prepare my bath, but things went awry, as she almost burnt me alive. The bath was too hot, and I was on the sick bed for two weeks because the burns I got were severe, according to the physician who treated me.
Throughout the two weeks and the next week that followed, I was given a very bitter drink, as the physician insisted it would aid my burns to heal faster. I bathed with cold water throughout this period, even though I hated it immensely. There was little I could do, as my mother wouldn't stop fussing over me and blaming herself for what happened.
"If only I had continued bathing you, you wouldn't have been this hurt, my sweet boy," she would say as she scrubbed my body gently to avoid irritating the burns further. I heard this each day I was to be bathed, in different tones.
My sister, who was in her tenth year then, wouldn't stop crying because she thought I was going to die, as I couldn't come out to play fetch with her. For the next two years, my mother never let any servants attend to me, not even Agnes; she couldn't trust me with them again.
It was with great reluctance that she stopped bathing me after my father said he had found a great maid to be assigned to me. Her name was Thersa, and for Philippa, I never heard of her again. Whenever I ask my mother, she would simply shrug and say she had found work elsewhere. I simply gave up asking, since I kept getting the same answer from everyone.
"Mi'lord, you've spent more than five minutes in the bath, and the colour is draining from your face," Theresa said, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm worried you may catch a cold if you stay there longer for a minute."
"Oh," I simply muttered, wondering how she got in and I didn't notice her.
As I emerged from the bath, some servant gently dried me with warm towels, carefully patting my skin dry. I was then ushered into my dressing room, where other sets of servants had been waiting. They began their work when I had been seated.
They started by applying fragrant oils and perfumes, a rich, intense and slightly sweet fragrance - massaging them into my skin, which made me feel refreshed and rejuvenated. With precision and care, they assisted me into my attire while ensuring every fold and drape were perfectly in place.
Then they started styling my hair and applying cosmetics. When they were done. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I was impressed with the refined and dignified image staring back at me.