The Importance of a Name

"I'm surprised neither the archduke nor the emperor offered to send you escorts," 19 casually commented as we strolled around the town square. "I was sure at least one of them would."

I grinned and pulled her inside a store selling candles, not bothering to answer that both of them actually did, but I declined. I really didn't see any need for it. The atmosphere was as casual and relaxed as the last time I was here with Caio. And unlike before, I could move about more freely now that I was part of the crowd. There were not a lot of benefits to being a poor commoner, but I must say that this was one of them: the candid ability to go out without attracting the attention of total strangers.

"So you like candles, huh?" 19 said, idly looking at the rows of candles in different sizes.

'Yes,' I replied. To my surprise, the fragrant smell of roses and vanilla filled my nose as soon as I walked into the shop, and I discovered that some of the candles were scented.

Scullery maids were paid a paltry monthly salary that was barely the equivalent of minimum wage. "After some time passes, you can be qualified for a salary increase," Madame Leone had declared, although I had no idea how much time needed to pass and how much of an increase I could realistically be qualified for, so I decided not to pay it too much mind. It was like waiting for a promotion: you never knew when – or if – it will come, so it would be better to just go on with your life. 

In the meantime, with the money that I did have at my disposal, I could afford at least one small indulgence every month, and I thought having a scented candle would be a nice addition to my room. 'I'd like to get a vanilla scented candle,' I happily decided.

"That would be nice," 19 agreed. "I already bought a hair tie and some pins." And I nodded my understanding at her choice. With her scatter of bouncy, curly hair, she always needed something to hold it down. Even now, with her hair caught up in a bun, she still used a few hairpins to keep the unruly locks away from her eyes.

"Hey, I heard there's going to be a puppet show by the fountain after dark." She linked her arm with mine as we stepped out of the store and continued our stroll. "Want to watch?"

'I'd love to,' I replied. A puppet show, how nostalgic. I couldn't exactly remember the last time I had watched a puppet show, but maybe it was around when I was still in grade school during local carnivals. 

"Great," 19 grinned. "Then we can hitch a ride back to the palace after the show." 

So we got buttered croissants and orange juice, and lounged by the fountain while waiting for the performance to start. When the makeshift wooden stage had been set up, it was well after dark and 19 and I had to elbow our way through the crowd that had gathered. I finally managed to secure a good spot, but I realized I got briefly separated from 19. 'We can just find each other later,' I thought, preparing to watch. 

I felt a grubby hand take hold of my wrist and I initially dismissed it, assuming someone had mistaken me for his companion. But when the hold turned into a viselike grip, I looked up to see a very tall, burly man smiling at me. "Are you alone?" he cooed, and I smelled the foul odor of cheap alcohol and cigarette. "Let me accompany you." He started dragging me away from the crowd and my breath came in shallow bursts out of fear. I tried to grab onto other nearby spectators, desperately attempting to get their attention, but they shoved my hand like they were swatting away a pesky fly, totally engrossed in the ongoing miniature stage play.

He was steadily pulling me away from the throng of people, leading me to a side alley, and I recognized with dread that the further my distance was from the central square, the more dangerous it would be for me. Tears were freely flowing down my cheeks by then but I hardly noticed.

I thought of something in hindsight, something that Monsieur Di Almarati had advised shortly after I had arrived at Luxentfort. He said that I should always have my wooden square block with me, the one that read 20, anywhere I went – especially outside the palace. At the time I had merely thought it was one of the empire's many protocols, and I conveniently overlooked it, choosing to leave it almost permanently stationed on my bedside table. Even now I didn't have it with me. But I finally recognized it for what it was – a means to announce my name, a way to identify myself as one of the emperor's concubines, a symbol of protection.

I kept trying to break free from his grasp but he simply tightened his hold, continuing to take steady strides towards the isolated alley. If he managed to get me there, I would be trapped.  I felt a shudder run through me and I choked back a sob. It was then that I noticed he was only holding onto one wrist – I still had the other free. I put my hand inside my skirt pocket and grabbed the handkerchief. 'Help me,' I called out to 1 as more tears flowed and my vision became blurry. 'Please.'