Chapter Text
The smell of damp earth permeated every corner of the castle after a rainy night, with puddles everywhere and the muffled sounds of men and women running and walking through them. Fortunately for Kim, she didn't have to leave the castle at all, or her shoes would have been caked in mud, and she would have had to clean them every time she went inside. She wasn't going to risk Lord Howard seeing his stone floor covered in mud; he detested that kind of mess. She detested it herself, too. Any dirt or disorder, no matter how small, would mean a major headache for her lords, and therefore for her and the other ladies of her mistress, Cheryl Hamlin.
She was almost finished replacing her mistress's sheets. She just needed to place the second pillow, which she was scrunching in her hands, against the headboard to complete cleaning the room, while the Hamlins chatted near the large window.
"So, you're not going to see the king?" Cheryl placed her glass of red wine on the table by the window.
"I will, but only after I visit Chuck and find out how his brother is doing.
"Kim paused for a few seconds, observing the pillow she held suspended in the air, just before placing it on the bed; feeling that last sentence as the most important she had heard in a long time. But she quickly felt her master's gaze upon her face, scrutinizing her.
Her lungs filled with air, and she immediately resumed her task, her expression serious, as if that small impasse had never occurred. She smoothed down her brown skirt with both hands.
"I'm finished here, my lady." "My lord," she turned to Howard. "May I go to the kitchen?"
"You may go", he said, before raising his wine glass to his lips.
She felt Howard Hamlin's gaze, her master's, on her as she crossed the room and walked out the door. She imagined his disapproving expression as he watched her disappear. She knew it. She didn't have to see it now; she knew that expression by heart. After closing the large bedroom door, she leaned against it for a moment.
The oak door felt cold against her back.
So, Jimmy was hurt? He'd been perfectly fine the day before; smiling and joking, as he always was when she saw him... Almost always, in fact.
When she first saw him, he was dirty and battered, but he didn't seem to care.
She had only arrived at the Hamlin household a week ago and was just adjusting to her masters' routine, so she had to spend her time between the kitchen and Mistress Cheryl's room. At that moment, she was reviewing a parchment with the list of tasks she required, as she did every day, but she couldn't continue because the sound of grunts and the clash of wooden swords filled the room.
Her feet carried her toward the yard from where the noise was coming, and there she could see two men fighting with wooden swords in the center of the yard, surrounded by several other men, forming a circle that none of the servants and grooms dared to cross. Among the men was her master, Howard, so she decided it was wise not to leave the kitchen and to remain hidden behind the half-open kitchen door. There were also five other men surrounding the two men fighting with wooden swords. It was a boy and a man much bigger than him who were fighting.
The bald man with the cold gaze tried to strike the other with his practice sword, but his opponent only managed to dodge the blows, clumsily wielding his wooden sword.
"Come on, Jimmy, you can't dodge Michael forever."
The young man attempted a direct hit to his opponent's shoulder, but the other anticipated the movement and intercepted the blow with his wooden sword. Finally, with his free hand, he managed to push the boy's chest and knock him down.
Some people began to laugh at the scene.
He had seen a few training sessions between squires, knights, and anyone else brave enough to wield a sword (whether wooden or steel), but nothing had caught his attention, as he didn't enjoy these encounters for very long. But nothing he had seen was as pathetic as this.
Jimmy, you'll never be a gentleman like that. The man who approached the loser and reprimanded him, serious, was a friend of her master; she had seen him a few times. Charles McGill. She had already wasted too much time.
It was time to go back.
On the table in the kitchen, she left some vegetables and meat to be cut for dinner, so she picked up her knife and started her work. Kim wasn't the one who cooked, but she always had to leave everything cut to make the girls' work easier.
"Hey, where's the beer kept in this castle?" she asked, startled, and immediately turned her head to see who was with her. "Are you new here?" It was the same man who had been knocked down moments before. He was wearing a yellow shirt, brown pants, and dirty boots, after his work with the lords in the courtyard. He was moving around in the kitchen, searching through things.
"Uh... Yes."
She went back to her chores; she didn't have time to talk to a stable boy, a prospective squire, or whatever. She was cutting the meat while listening to the clatter of a jug and iron cups, but the sound faded after a few moments, and she was surprised again when she felt his hand extended near her arm.
"I'm Jimmy. What's your name?" He looked at her steadily, at a respectful distance, not invading her personal space. He wasn't a particularly attractive man, but his carefree smile and bright blue eyes worked in his favor.
"Um..." She hadn't expected this kind of friendliness at all, but she didn't want to come across as rude. "I'm Kim Wexler," she replied, extending her hand to shake his; but when she realized it was dirty, she tried to pull it back immediately.
She had no idea where Jimmy had come from, but she knew she wouldn't be able to forget the way he smiled at her as he caught her hand before she could wipe the dirt on some cloth over her skirts. I just took her hand and squeezed it gently.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kim Wexler". She stood still, watching him, as she went back to fetch some glasses and a pitcher before heading to one of the water barrels resting in a corner of the kitchen.
"Well, I hope this is enough to quench everyone's thirst, or I'll have to take you to drink water by the horses."
He filled the pitcher with water.
"See you, Kim Wexler," he said before leaving through the door as she watched him go. She stood there for a few moments, thinking about what had happened, so surreal and surprising, yet so quick. It was over, and she decided to return to her chores; she had been delayed far too long thanks to that strange, smiling young man.
The way she discovered he was one of the heirs to an important family was no less memorable.
Upon entering the room, she found her Lord Howard seated at the head of a long wooden table, accompanied by his wife and, at the far right, one of the men she had seen earlier. A man with blond hair, blue eyes, and prominent features. Next to this man was the boy who greeted her in the kitchen, and a woman in front of him.
Jimmy, that's what he said his name was. She thought he was just another servant, but seeing him there surprised her so much that she almost dropped the tray of glasses.
The woman who had been standing next to Chuck McGill appeared to help her avoid disaster.
They laughed and ate, spending the afternoon having lunch, which consisted of a stew of onions, carrots, and pork, and a jug of wine. Everyone was happy, except for Chuck McGill, whose eyes were as blue as a cold winter night. A serious, tense look that seemed to judge his younger brother as he chatted away with anecdotes.
A while later, Kim arrived with a jug of wine to replace the one that had been emptied on the table, while Francesca, the cook, served dessert: lemon tart.
"I'm telling you, Howard, the king was so drunk he couldn't tell the difference between his wife and one of the queen's maids. Chuck wouldn't let me lie, would he, brother? We were both at that party and…"
"Jimmy, you shouldn't be saying all this stuff about the King".
The women stopped laughing, and Howard had decided Chuck was right.
"Come on, I'm not lying, you know that."
"That doesn't give you the right to spill the royal family's secrets, Jimmy".
Embarrassed glances filled the table, so they decided to turn their attention back to the food and drinks on the table.
After a few minutes of returning to trivial conversation—about the weather, the castle, and the jousts between knights that were occasionally held there—they continued laughing until their plates were empty.
“Well, Howard, we have to go. Tomorrow I have to attend court for the king’s trials. You know, to hear the claims of villagers and lords,” she said, pushing her chair back to her feet.
They all rose from the table and headed for the exit, while Kim and Paige, another of their mistress’s maids, cleared the plates; but they stopped:
"Hey Kim, that was great food. Thank you." He stopped in front of her with a warm smile.
"Um... Actually, my lord, it's Francesca who cooks."
"That's right," Howard interjected. "She's our cook, Jimmy. Kim is here to look after Cheryl."
"Well, thanks anyway."
Not another word was spoken, and they walked out of the room in search of the castle's exit.
Later that day, Lord Howard sought her out to inform her that the McGills were important people in his castle. In fact, he only spoke of importance when he mentioned Chuck McGill and his wife, leaving the younger brother, Jimmy, for last.
She simply nodded, remembering that it had been a long time since anyone had thanked her for her work.
She was fifteen years old and had only been in the castle a few days, having searched for a place to work until Lord Howard granted her entry after she proved herself helpful and reliable. Furthermore, she had strived to be self-sufficient for as long as she could remember; and she could also read and write, uncommon traits for a woman of humble birth. Most women her age were already married, working somewhere (if they were single), or, if they were lucky, were taken into service by a prominent family.
Her father did everything he could to teach her to read and write as well as he did, to prevent her from ending up as an ordinary woman: married to a husband chosen by someone else; a girl who would work in a tavern or a brothel.
"You'll be much better than that, Kim," her father would tell her whenever he could, right after reading her a bedtime story about a woman who had led an army in the past.
She knew she wouldn't be a valiant leader of a band of the king's knights, or of any important family; but she was content, for now, to be an important woman to an important lord. And, of course, in time, she would be able to choose the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life—something that wasn't permitted to any woman of her station.
She didn't expect to acquire great wealth, but the power to choose the kind of life she would have, she would earn, sooner or later.
She knew she wouldn't be a valiant leader of a band of the king's knights, or of any important family; but she was content, for now, to be an important woman to an important lord. And, of course, in time, able to choose the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life—something not permitted to any woman of her station. She didn't expect to acquire great wealth, but the power to choose the kind of life she would have, she would earn, sooner or later. For now, she had a plate of cheese and bread (her supper) in front of her on the table she shared with the girls: Francesca, Paige, and Viola. However, while they ate and chatted about how their day had gone, Kim couldn't think of anything but Jimmy and his current condition. Was he seriously hurt? Was he asleep, or awake and suffering? The thought of him suffering filled her with despair. She had seen a few people fall off their horses at that castle: grooms trying to break in some unruly horse. Some squires. None of them were seriously injured, but they were certainly unconscious for a few days and suffered some fractures. Was that the case with Jimmy, or...
“Kim?” Francesca was watching her from the head of the table, which was directly across from her. This caused the noise from the others to disappear, prompting her to return to the table. She looked at Francesca and the girls, who were watching her with concern, and only then did she realize that she had been absentmindedly picking at her food with a small knife she held between her fingers. “You haven’t eaten anything. Is something wrong?”
When they gathered for meals, everyone participated in the conversation, and she was no exception. She enjoyed the company of her friends after a long day at work, but now she was as quiet as a rock.
"Nothing... I'm just not hungry," she replied, placing the dagger on the table and standing up. She needed to do something, or it would be very difficult to continue with her routine. "Excuse me."
As she left the kitchen, she wondered how she could get a message to McGill Castle without them knowing it was hers. Her steps could only lead her to the top of one of the castle towers, the one that housed a large number of ravens and carrier pigeons in an aviary. She stopped in the middle of the stone corridor with its windows overlooking the stables. Perhaps, if no one was there, she could send a message, but if not, what would her excuse be?
She still remembered the night she'd had a nasty cold, but she'd managed to get everything done that day. As night fell, in her room, she felt the weight of exhaustion and a fever she could barely bear with the herbal teas the Hamlins' maester had given her. But nothing seemed to ease her pain.
She lay down on the bed, but soon saw the door open, and she quickly made a tremendous effort to push herself up on her elbows to see who had arrived.
The male figure closed the door, and by candlelight, she could see it was Jimmy, with his brown hair and the orange glow of the light on its strands. His blue eyes reflected immense concern. She knew it as well as she knew him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice weak from the sore throat and stuffy nose, as she sank back down onto the bed.
"I came to see how you were."
He walked over to the bed and placed a hand on her forehead.
"You're burning up!"
He leaned in, his hand inches from her face, still pressing it to her forehead.
"It's not that bad," she tried to downplay it, but she could barely speak.
The truth was, while serving the McGills and their friends, she felt Jimmy's gaze on her every time she was in the dining room, and she was sure her face betrayed her condition.
After they finished dinner and she had to clear the plates, she found a message written on one of them with candle wax from the large table where they had been eating. She knew it was him because she had seen him take one of the candles and blow it out when no one was looking, after some plates had fallen to the floor because of his weakness.
"You should go to bed."
She couldn't just leave and stop working, no.
When Lord Howard heard the plates crashing to the floor for the third time, he told her to go and rest. She never made so many mistakes in one day.
And there she was now, where she should have been all day, but her stubbornness wouldn't allow it.
But Jimmy hadn't arrived at her room alone; the family maître d' had followed him. Would Howard Hamlin have authorized that?
The man hurried to check her temperature with his hands after Jimmy moved away from the bed to make way for the elderly man, his hair gray and wrinkles etched with gray, who cured the illnesses of the most important people in the castle.
"You can cure her, right?" He sensed the concern in his friend's voice.
"She just needs to rest and take this," the old man assured him, pulling a small bottle of lead-colored liquid from his sleeve. He handed the bottle to Jimmy, who opened it.
She was very tired and on the verge of falling asleep, so the young man helped her sit up to drink.
"Just drink, Kim," he told her. She didn't hesitate for a moment, despite the terrible taste of the concoction.
When she lay down again, she heard the door close. The maester had left, but the youngest McGill remained beside her, his warm hand resting on hers. She knew nothing more until the next day, when the sun began to flood the room with its warm rays. She awoke. It was all over; the remedy had worked and banished her feverish discomfort. But she felt something else: warmth in the fingers of the hand where Jimmy had touched her. Had he been there until just a short time ago? She was certain he had.
And that same warmth stayed with her throughout the day as she changed her masters' bedsheets and served their meals.
She paced the corridor, trying to think that if she couldn't find anyone to help her deliver a message to the McGills, her next step would be to go to that castle disguised and hooded.
It wasn't the first time she'd risked something like this just to see Jimmy. She still remembered the first time she'd kissed him during one of those visits...
That is, if someone didn't appear first and alert Mr. Howard that she was there, and she'd have to come up with a believable excuse. No, she couldn't allow anyone to see her in that place, so she moved away from the windows and took cover behind a column, right next to the closed door of the aviary. She peered out of the nearest window to watch for whoever might have seen her.
"Kim?" She jumped so fast she covered her mouth to keep any sound from escaping her throat.
"Ernesto," she said with a sigh of relief. She hadn't heard the door open, so the shock had left her breathless. "What are you doing here?"
The opportunity she needed was right in front of her. Ernesto was one of the headmaster's assistants, and although they rarely saw each other, he was there that day.
"I need your help, Ernie." He pulled out a small roll of parchment, took his friend's wrist in his hands, and handed him the message.