Chapter Text
Their routine was the same most days.
Julianna was not only the Princess’ main lady but also her bedmaid, the latter role acquired over the past year to care for her during her recovery. So the first thing Julianna saw each morning was the Princess’ face, still asleep beside her under the heavy covers, the usual rosy cheeks even more flushed due to the warmth of the bedchamber and strands of her red hair loose from the braid Julianna had done the night before.
Julianna was always the first to wake up, accustomed to the early hours of the court. She let the Princess sleep for a little while more, dressing herself quietly in the half darkness of the chamber. She brushed her dark hair and blindly did it up in a high bun. Then she added a log to the fire, burned down to glowing red embers during the night, so the Princess wouldn’t feel the sharp contrast of temperatures when she woke up. Julianna then prepared the clothes the Princess would wear today, a deep blue dress that matched her eyes, wool undergarments and socks for the cold, and suede brown boots. She would probably want a bath after breakfast, so Julianna would need to order the servants to bring the wooden tub and pails of hot water.
It would be yet another snowy day in the kingdom, Julianna reflected as she opened the curtains and all she saw outside was a dark grey sky and snowflakes falling quietly. The Princess had been eager to go outside for a walk around the gardens or to visit the market in the carriage, but all that would have to wait for better days. Julianna and the other ladies did all in their power to keep the Princess entertained during the long days, but she was a restless woman and sometimes their efforts were in vain. However, only Julianna noticed the tenseness in her shoulders and the gritted teeth when the Princess was getting annoyed by the dull talk of the other ladies over their embroidery until eventually she would ask the guards to be escorted back to her chambers. She would only allow Julianna to follow her inside, where the Princess sometimes asked her to read her a book while she drank tea or simply Julianna remained silent while she read to herself.
Julianna was the eldest of the ladies, closer to thirty than twenty, and one of the longest serving members of the Princess’ household. She barely had free time during the day, attending the Princess even at night while she slept. Once she had been forced by the King to take a vacation to visit her hometown because she would never ask for one. She suspected the Princess had petitioned the King, her father-in-law, to send Julianna away for a week, with all paid for by the Crown, but she had no solid proof. She had been reluctant to part with the Princess, even for a relatively short time, so soon after what had happened but the Princess had insisted Julianna deserved to rest. She had cared for the Princess almost to the point of exhaustion, after all.
Feeling the morning light on her face from the drawn back curtains, the Princess stirred in bed. She let out a soft groan and slowly opened her blue eyes, glassy and reddened with sleep. When she saw Julianna approaching the bed, the Princess gave her a small smile, one that told the lady she was feeling well. The Princess’ health was not the best and some mornings were difficult for her, especially in winter.
“Good morning, Highness,” Julianna greeted her.
“G’morning, Julianna,” she replied, rubbing the sleep off her eyes with her fists. “Is it snowing outside?”
“Yes, Highness. Not showing any signs of stopping, I’m afraid.”
The Princess took a deep breath. “Oh, well. Nothing to do about that, is there?”
She sat up in bed at the same moment a soft knock on the door was heard. Julianna opened it and stepped aside to let the servants bring in the breakfast that she and the Princess would take in the bedchamber. Usually breakfast was served in the Queen’s solar, a quiet family-only affair, but the Princess had managed to dodge that by stating she felt too weak to walk there in the mornings, which wasn’t a lie some of the times. It allowed her to stay in her bedchamber and see a little less of her political family, and Julianna played along because it made the Princess happy to just drink tea staring out the window, without the Queen asking uncomfortable questions. Just Julianna and her loyal silence.
The servants made quick work of setting food, drink and other breakfast necessities on the table, bowing and curtseying to the Princess before leaving. Julianna knew from experience that the water was boiling hot and it would remain so in the teapot while she helped the Princess ready herself for the day.
But before she could get dressed, Julianna knew what the Princess needed. She was sitting up in bed, with the covers thrown aside, and her hands folded in her lap but Julianna knew the tell-tale signs. The Princess’ legs under her long white nightgown were pressed together, still trying to disguise the need to pass water urgently even after all the years Julianna has known her. The Princess was nothing if not bashful. Julianna knew that meant she wouldn’t make it to the privy in time, but even so she was compelled to ask the same question every morning.
“Privy or chamberpot, Highness?”
She saw the Princess hesitate for a couple of seconds. “Chamberpot, I should think, Julianna.”
“Of course, Highness.”
Julianna bent down to retrieve the chamberpot from under the bed. It was enameled cream white with a gold rim and a red rose painted on the bottom inside. It had been emptied and washed the night before, after she and the Princess made it back to the bedchamber from the dinner party the King had thrown for the whole court. The Princess had been exhausted from a night of dancing and socializing, all the while drinking glass after glass of sweet wine. Although she had a privy for her own use down the hallway, she claimed it was too cold and her feet hurt too much to walk over there, so Julianna had coaxed her into using the chamberpot but the Princess had only managed to pass a little spurt. Now, Julianna could venture that all the wine she had drunk the night before was needing to come out.
Seeing the chamberpot, the Princess could not disguise her need anymore and resorted to grabbing herself through the linen of her gown, much to her embarrassment judging by the flush in her cheeks. Julianna was a professional, though, and did not comment on it. Instead, she left the chamberpot on the floor while she assisted the Princess into scooting over the edge of the bed. For that, the Princess needed to part her legs, so she pressed herself even tighter, letting out a soft groan when she felt a spurt come out unbidden.
“I am truly sorry, Julianna. I cannot possibly hold it a minute longer, so you must hurry,” she pleaded, eyes cast down.
“Of course, Highness. Just ten seconds more, that is all.”
With the speed from experience, Julianna grabbed the chamberpot in one hand as she, still crouching, positioned herself next to the Princess and lifted her nightgown by the hem. The Princess wore no undergarments under it during the night for this same reason, after many times when she drenched them in her desperation. It was a secret between them. The Princess could truly not wait even for Julianna to rightfully position the chamberpot under her before the floodgates opened and the first desperate spurt landed on the floor. Murmuring her apologies again, she let go and luckily the rest of it hit the bottom of the chamberpot loud as thunder in the vastness of the chamber.
The Princess could not help the relieved sigh from leaving her lips as she passed water while Julianna held the chamberpot firmly in her hand, feeling it grow heavier as the seconds passed until her wrist started to feel uncomfortable and her fingers trembled ever so slightly. Still, she waited patiently for the Princess to empty herself, something that happened well after a minute, going from a relentless flow to dribbles every few seconds and then nothing at all. Julianna quickly covered the chamberpot with the lid so she could dispose of its contents later, noticing it was halfway full. It was no wonder the Princess was so desperate. Her breathing had quickened and she was a bit slumped over herself, but she looked relieved, so Julianna left her for a moment while she went to retrieve cleaning paper from the nightstand.
“I apologize again, Julianna,” the Princess said. “The floor…”
“Can be cleaned, Highness. You have nothing to apologize for.”
The Princess nodded, though Julianna knew she was not comfortable with her lady cleaning after herself. So Julianna gave her a wad of cleaning paper so she could dry herself and fetched her clothes to give her a tiny bit of privacy. She assisted the Princess into pulling out her nightgown, which luckily suffered no casualties. She was completely naked underneath. Julianna had the fire cracking merrily by the time the Princess woke up, still she shivered a little bit and goosebumps appeared on the pale skin. Julianna inspected the body before her with the brevity the Princess deserved, but it was necessary for her to write a faithful report on her diary of the Princess’ wellbeing. She had put on some weight during her recovery and looked much healthier than she had been at her lowest moments just a year ago. The breasts were rather small but round and the nipples a normal pink color but wrinkled from the exposure. They had stopped producing milk a couple of months earlier, with no infant to suckle on them. She had faint white stretch marks on the sides of the belly from the pregnancy that nearly cost her her life. The doctors had examined the Princess in search for another one just a few days ago with Julianna present in the room. She was not with child. Julianna could not guess if the Princess was relieved or not about that fact. She had asked Julianna to shave her mound previous to the doctors’ exam and now she could see the soft pink folds glistening between the legs.
Julianna kept a diary in which she wrote the Princess’ progress every day. She could not bring herself to read the entries from more than a year ago. The pregnancy had been very hard on the Princess and every time Julianna had to write about the pain, the vomiting and the overall weakness, she did so with a trembling hand and a heavy heart. The worst entry was on the day the little prince was delivered prematurely. He had been stillborn. The delivery was extremely painful and the doctors feared for both the mother and the child’s life. Julianna had stayed by the Princess’ side for long hours, watching her writhe and cry and plead for mercy, powerless to help her in any meaningful way. She watched the Prince, her husband, pacing a few meters from the birthing bed and cursing the doctors to do something. Finally, he told them there was no point in waiting anymore, realizing the Princess could not deliver the child on her own, exhausted as she was. The doctors had needed his approval to use forceps in an attempt to save the child’s life and the Prince had agreed. Julianna suspected he knew that the little prince was lifeless already, so he ordered the doctors to preserve the Princess’ life instead or he would make sure they would all hang.
The Princess had survived the ordeal, yes, but not without cost. For a whole fevered week, it seemed like the doctors would really hang from the city walls, but then she seemed to be brought back from the brink of death by an unknown power and the fever broke. Julianna had not left her side, even at risk of collapsing herself, nursing the Princess to recovery by sheer force of will. Yet internal damage had been inevitable and though the infection had eventually disappeared, the Princess had made such a physical effort during the delivery that her muscles were weakened. The doctors had examined her and came to the conclusion that she had suffered a slight bladder displacement and a weakening of the sphincter, which were the cause of terrible, sudden urges to pass water during the few months after the labor. Luckily, they had lessened over time but they were still present and the doctors doubted they would ever go away completely. Many times Julianna found the Princess wetting herself uncontrollably on the way to the privy and she had to wipe the floor as well as the tears from the Princess’ face whenever that happened.
She made quick work of assisting the Princess into dressing herself and brushed her red hair until it gleamed. She liked to wear it unbraided during the day, but she asked Julianna to bring her her favorite silver brooch so she could keep the fringes off her face while she ate breakfast. Julianna poured her a cup of steaming tea along with a glass of cranberry juice and piled some buttery pancakes with honey and biscuits on a plate, setting them in front of the Princess, who thanked her quietly, before taking her place on the other side of the table and pouring herself a cup of black coffee with toast. They ate their breakfast in silence, while the Princess looked out of the window and Julianna busied herself reading the newspaper the servants had left for the Princess to read, though she was not very interested in politics, economy and the kingdom’s wars.
Then it was time for the Princess to depart for the sitting room where the other ladies were already waiting for their embroidery session. The Princess would rarely miss one of them, except when she was feeling indisposed, even though Julianna knew most of the time she would rather be doing something else. She knew her duty very well. Julianna cared nothing for embroidery, sewing or doing small talk with the rest of them and the Princess knew it, so she would never force her to do any of that or even stay if she did not wish to. Even so, Julianna greeted her charges and saw the Princess settled comfortably in an armchair with too many pillows before she excused herself with a curtsy. The Princess nodded once and Julianna left.
She passed by the Princess’ bedchamber to see the doors open and the servants already wiping the floors, making the bed and dusting the furniture. She had disposed of the used chamberpot previously, so the servants would not see the worst of it and the Princess’ dignity would be spared, except for a small puddle on the floor next to the bed that had been practically dry by the time breakfast was over and could pass for a spilled glass of water. Julianna was satisfied. She nodded at the guard posted by the door; William had the morning watch three days a week. He was tall and lean, with black hair and eyes that gleamed every time he saw Julianna. He nodded back and winked, which caused Julianna to roll her eyes but she couldn’t quite suppress a smile.
Julianna had never had too much spare time during the day for herself. She had learned to live with that and would not trade being the Princess’ lady and bedmaid for anything in the world, but sometimes it was hard to maintain the composure. She had also attended the dinner party last night and drank the sweet wine to her heart’s delight but unlike the Princess, her bladder was rather strong. She had not needed to relieve herself before going to bed and barely felt the urge to pass water when she woke up. Besides, it was forbidden by etiquette to use the Princess’ chamberpot or personal privy unless explicitly allowed and she would never be so bold as to ask. So Julianna had not passed water yet that morning, but after two hours and a cup of coffee, her need had come to the forefront of her mind. She felt the urge to press her legs together as she walked and her core pulsed minutely, assaulted by the flood she was not letting come out.
But for all her strength, she had been caught short a few times. After all, this happened to her every day. Helping the Princess relieve herself was torture sometimes, especially when she had to use the chamberpot and Julianna had to see and hear the stream from up close, wishing she could use it next even though it would spill. When the Princess felt not so desperate right after waking up and could walk to her privy, Julianna also walked in with her to hold her gown up, shifting from foot to foot discreetly. She was not made of steel and would look longingly at the wooden seat before closing the door behind her with her bladder full. Still, rarely she needed to grab herself or worse, wet her underwear while waiting. The latter only happened when she’d had too much to drink the night before and did not relieve herself before bed and only when she was actually in front of the seat, as if her body could not wait even a second longer so close to relief. Julianna hated that and also hated the etiquette that did not allow servants and ladies to use the privies around the palace reserved for the royal family. So she had to walk past the Princess’ personal privy down the hall, suppressing the urge to pause and dart inside before anyone saw her.
Climbing stairs was hard with a full bladder, yet Julianna managed to do so with a straight face and her arms beside her. Gods, she hoped the nearest servants’ privy was empty or she doubted she would make it to another one. It was just down the next hallway, three doors to the left. She was absolutely bursting by the time she saw the door to the privy, blissfully open and ready to be used. Due to her excitement, a few drops of urine managed to slip past. Julianna looked around and, seeing not another soul there, grabbed herself through her dress, pressing on her core and pleading with her bladder to hang on for a few seconds more. Damned the sweet wine, she thought, and damned the cup of coffee this morning. Julianna blindly locked the door and shifted from foot to foot as she lifted her dress. Unlike the Princess, she wore undergarments and underwear that needed to be unlaced. Crossing her legs tightly as she needed her fingers, she jumped up and down as she made quick work of them. A longer spurt that lasted a couple of seconds came out as Julianna finished with her last lace and pulled everything down, feeling a few drops running down her leg as she quickly sat on the wooden seat.
Her stream thundered out with the force of an avalanche. All those hours and drinks later, she was finally letting it all out. She did not feel relief until several seconds later as her bladder slowly deflated.
“Damn it,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “That was close.”
Was this what the Princess felt every time she needed to use her chamberpot because she could not make it to the privy? Julianna was sure of it. The Princess could never be a servant, then, or she would wet herself every day if she had to walk all the way to another wing of the palace to pass water hours after waking up. Morning waters, as Julianna knew, were the hardest to hold. Except for the wetness of her underwear, she was rather proud she did it successfully every day. She would have today, if she hadn’t drunk all that wine the night before. She savored the feeling of being empty for a minute before she cleaned herself and pulled up her underwear and garments, and let the dress skirt fall to the floor. She sighed and left the privy, sparing a thought for her fellow servants and maids who had not had a chance to use it that morning yet.
Julianna was now ready to resume her chores, which were many. Most days she only had time to relieve herself thrice: mid morning, after luncheon on the way back from the kitchens (the Princess had luncheon with her husband in his solar) and sometimes after dinner, if the Princess dined with her political family in the dining hall or, if not, before bed but only if she had to somehow pass by the servant wing on the way somewhere else. Julianna had learned exactly the amount of drink that would make her desperate before she could relieve herself and thus learned to limit her intake of drinks such as coffee except in the mornings. When she could not pass water before bed, sometimes she would wake up in the middle of night quite needing to go but the Princess slept next to her and guards stood post at the doors, so she could not slip away. Such was the life of a lady, she supposed.
Julianna made her way back to the sitting room, where the Princess was busy with her embroidery and the ladies chatted amongst themselves quietly so as not to disturb her concentration. The Princess glanced up when Julianna came in and her lip curled slightly. She walked over to the desk where she had left her own embroidery work the day before and settled in an armchair to resume doing something she hated.
Etiquette was a bitch.