Tears freely fell out of Charlotte's eyes as she stared at her disastrous hair in the mirror. She sniffed and I went forward holding a handkerchief, handing it to the Marchioness. She wiped her tears and said, "Charlotte, don't worry. It will be alright. We can say that you were suffering from an illness and it required your hair to be cut."

It's not alright. Long hair was the symbol of feminity and high status. The longer the hair you have, the more effort it takes to maintain it, which the lower class could not afford. And in a society that places such importance on the long hair of women, having short hair would be seen as unacceptable and disgraceful. Especially since she would be having her debutante this year. Perhaps the other gentlemen wouldn't look at her. But all hope was not lost, there's still that gentleman.

"Myra," Charlotte said, wiping her tears.

"Yes, milady?"

"Make it beautiful," she said, her eyes determined.

I smiled. As expected. 

Now I do not wish to leave her. 

I took out the scissors from the drawer. With a comb, on the other hand, I began cutting her hair. Once again. But this time, my movements were nimble and skilful unlike the amateur chopping before.   She flinched as each strand was pulled through the metal teeth.

And soon I was done. I kept the items back in their place and retreated. 

The marchioness smiled. "Well done."

Well, I never thought she of all people would compliment me.

Charlotte stared at herself in awe. "Well done, indeed"

Her red locks had been shortened to about her chin and her front hair had been shortened to cover only her forehead with two locks of hair at the sides. The hairstyle gave her a regal air while still being modest.  I stood next to her as she admired her appearance. After a minute she spoke.

"Thank you, Myra," she said. 

"It's only my duty, milady." I bowed.

What a hypocrite.

***

I walked up to a building and looked at the sign above. Tarrin.

Will I regret this?

I sighed and opened the door. The bell rang overhead announcing my arrival. The place was bustling and the noise of conversation and laughter was relaxing. The tables were almost filled with men, women and the old drinking their heart's content.  People here are from different backgrounds but we all share one trait in common. We belong to the lower class. I navigated through the tables, looking around.

"Miss Allen!" Miss Taylor's voice reached my ears through the noise. I turned in her direction and walked with a smile. "You came!"  I nodded and she motioned for me to take a seat at one of the empty chairs. The table was filled with various ladies in their late twenties in common clothing, looking at her.

"Good evening." They greeted.

I smiled once again. "Good evening."

Miss Taylor placed my order with Mr Macpherson, a very tall and handsome man, who smiled and thanked her. He then disappeared after giving me a beer. 

"Miss Allen, would you mind us calling you by your first name?" A woman with glasses asked.

"Sure, I do not mind."

"Wonderful. I am Grace, young Lady Harlington's maid."

Following her, all the other women introduced themselves.

I greeted everyone with a smile and remained silent. I have no idea what they do in here. 

"So, Myra. I have a question." Kate, Lady Greenville's maid, asked me.

"Yes?"

"How is your relationship with your mistress?"

Oh, I see. This is a test.

What should I answer?

"It is alright," I replied with my eyes cast downwards. I heard a sigh of relief.

A hand patted my shoulder. "You poor thing. We heard."

I looked up at Rose, who avoided my gaze. The culprit.

"Okay! I cannot wait any longer! I have something to say!" Mary, Lady Hadenville's maid, shouted.

All of us looked at Mary. 

"My mistress is a... doxy."

Gasps filled the table. 

"No way, Mary."

"Are you sure?" Another girl asked her.

Mary nodded vigorously. "Yes, quite certain."

More gasps sounded.

That is certainly a surprise. Who would have thought...

"Do you want to know how I found out?" She asked.  

"Do tell." Rose eagerly replied.

"My mistress had been going out every night since about four months ago. And-"

"That's long."

"Let me finish!" Mary hit the interrupter, April.

"Okay! Okay!"

"Yes so, about two months ago she stopped going out. I didn't know why. I suspected she had a falling out with her 'friend'. And remember? Kate had told us that Lady Greenville had been complaining about my mistress leaving the balls early? Turns out she was meeting a man. And she has not bled in two months!"

So this is where Lady Berkinson learns her gossip from.

 Mary paused to let that information sink in. "Yesterday at night, she went out again. Out of sheer curiosity, I followed her and just try to guess who was that man."

Silence.

"Guess!" 

"You told us to listen to you!"

Mary rolled her eyes. "It was... It was... "

I wanted to applaud Mary's devotion.

"Count Magifern!"

"Oh no! The gal sneaker?!" Rose gasped.

"Well, it is no surprise. We all thought he had changed for good after marriage, but well you can't teach an old dog new tricks," Grace chuckled.

"What happened after?"

"They had a fight and mistress returned home and cried on my shoulder."

"Alright, it's my turn now." Sophie, Lady Crawell's maid asked.

After more than an hour of gossip, Grace turned her attention to me. "Is there anything you would like to add, Myra?"

Should I? 

Divulge Charlotte's secrets?

Well, I was provided with entertaining information. Why not?

Let's just tell something that's bound to reveal later.

"Someone chopped my mistress's hair last night while she was asleep."

"Oh dear, this close to the debutante? They are quite sadistic."

Perhaps I am.

"Oh, and did I tell you? My mistress had..."

"..."

"..."

I stared at the orange sky above the buildings. Today was an eventful day.

"How was it?" Rose asked next to her.

"It was wonderful. " I answered with a smile. "I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Are you not afraid I will inform my mistress of this gossip?"

"If it benefits you, you can."

I tilted my head in confusion, earning a chuckle. 

"We are not favoured by our mistresses, but not ill-treated. This allows us to help each other without caring about the consequences on our statuses. The only pact we have is to not admit anyone who is too favoured nor revenge-driven ill-treated, both of whom will ruin the bond that we share. We originally thought you belonged to the former but after that incident, we came to know it is not so. And hence here we are."

"But what is the purpose of this?" I asked.

"You see, we are an oddity. We cannot mingle with the jealous junior maids. The ones of our own standing are not suitable to talk to. Our life depends upon the whims of our mistresses. Who do we have? Is it not wise to help each other in this case?"

I see. It does make sense. Perhaps joining this wouldn't be so bad after all.