***Haven’t read the first part? Click here: Chapter 1 – My Best Plan… Part 1***
Swiftly gliding down the steps, dozens of voices can be heard from below. Reaching the open arch-shape entrance into the kitchen, I pause to peer around. Head maids wear red shawls tied around their necks and bark orders at the frantic maids and butlers crowding everywhere and bumping into each other like worker bees. The cooks bustle around each other as they make the final preparations on the meals that are to be sent out to the dinner party. A full roasted pig, large turkey, lamb legs, assorted fruits, bread, and vegetables stack on one table. I study the basket of vegetables dangling over the corner edge of the table. My attention changes to a husky, red nose maid who is about hustle past it. Fixating unto my target, I quickly hoof it into the kitchen without any hesitation.
In a matter of seconds, both the maid and I are on our butts as vegetables scatter across the floor and the kitchen echoes with gasps from the surrounding servants. The empty basket slowly rolls toward the feet of an obese, red-haired head maid who is so red in the face, her hair appears blonde.
“What da hell are you two, prancin’ little fairies, doin’?” She shouts angrily at us, “Da feast was practically prepared until you incompetent rodents ruin’d a portion of da meal wit your lack of attention!” Pulling each of us up by the arms, she snatches the empty basket and forcefully shoves it into my chest, blowing the air out of my lungs. “Wash da damn veggies and have ‘em ready NOW or I’ll have Master Dorian cut your heads off!” She yells into the ear of the red-nose maid, turns around, and screams at other servants for lollygagging.
Despite the yelling and my sore chest, adrenaline from a successful plan is surging through me and it makes me incredibly excited. Without hesitating for another second, the maid and I toss all of the vegetables back into the basket. Out of “kindness,” I tell the teary-eyed maid that I would have it taken care of and she could continue on with her duties. Wiping her eyes, she nods her head appreciatively several times and whispers, “Thank you.” She hurries off and buries herself into the crowd of servants.
Hoisting the basket to my hip, I shove my way through the crowd toward the water faucets and concrete sinks, which happens to be a few meters from the door I sought after. Maids are heavily focused on washing assorted items, from plates to laundry, to notice that I am standing behind them. Peeking around through my peripheral vision and confirming all of the head maids are distracted, I place the basket down and toss some dirty linens on top of it.
Taking one last glance at my surroundings and making sure no one is watching me, I step up the door. My heartbeats pound heavily against my chest followed with a spike of nervousness of not knowing what to exactly expect on the other side. I cannot believe I have made it this far. I hope I am not in a dream. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing to improvise the rest of my plan, I twist the handle and exit out.