Chapter Text
The satisfying sound the scrub-brush makes as it scrapes across the now spotless floor is almost enough to make me forget the soreness in my knees, the cramps in my fingers, or the unease in my soul.
Almost, but not quite.
I cannot rest yet.
I just have to keep cleaning, because if I keep cleaning, then maybe this feeling will go away. Maybe, if I polish the china, my hands will stop shaking, or if I scrub the baseboards, my breathing will even out.
I have to keep going; I can not rest until the entire palace is clean, it does not matter that I now have staff that will do all of this for me. It is my responsibility to clean and maintain order in the palace, and maybe, just maybe, if I can bring order to the palace, I can bring order to my mind. I just need to clean, and maybe take a breath or two.
Clean and breath, breath and clean.
I have already stripped the linens, dusted the shelves, swept the chimney, and washed the windows, but it is not enough.
I cannot rest yet.
I can rest when the floor is clean.
Only when the floor is clean, because if the palace isn't clean, then the maids will complain,
and if the maids complain, then the rest of the staff will find out,
and if the staff finds out, they will complain to Kit,
and complaining to the king means complaining to Kit,
and complaining to Kit mean he will be unhappy,
and if he's unhappy then he won't want to deal with me anymore,
and if he doesn't want to be deal me anymore then I'll have to leave,
and if i have to leave then I'll have to go back home,
and if i have to go back home then ill be going back to my her
and then ill have to live with her again,
and she will make me clean for her again,
and-
"Ella dear, is that you?”
My ever spiraling train of thought is interrupted by soft and concerned voice of my husband.
Kit.
It is startling enough that I realize my hands have stilled from their endless scrubbing, frozen as they clutch the brush against the tile floor.
How long have I been here?
I force my hands to begin their work again, only now the movements are jittery and uncoordinated, much unlike the smooth, fluid movements of before.
I cannot rest yet.
I watch as my tears fall to the floor as I clear my throat, eyes not yet meeting those of my Kit’s.
"I, uh-”
The dark soles of his shoes enter my vision before my eyes squeeze shut, unable to bear the though of him seeing my like this.
"Yes darling, it is me"
My next breath more unsteady than I would like.
"Is there something that you need, my love?”
I refuse to acknowledge the tremble in my voice, but I know he can hear it too. The air is still with contemplation before I can feel hands on top of my own, gently forcing my fingers to release their harsh grip on the scrub-brush in-front of me.
"Will you look at me, darling?”
My eyes tighten once more, before finally opening and rising to meet my husbands gentle gaze.
"Oh my Ella, what’s wrong?
His hands raise to gently cup my face, and I have to clench my jaw to keep from trembling in his grasp. The adamant concern in his eyes is what finally breaks me, and I fall forward into his arms, face burred in his chest and brush abandoned on the floor.
His hands move, one coming to rest on the small of my back, while the other gently smooths over my hair as i attempt to gather the words necessary to explain what is going on.
“The uh-”
I clear my throat
"There was such a mess, and I just I-”
I cannot rest yet
My breaths are now coming in quick, painful, gasps.
“It just had to be cleaned! I cannot rest until everything is-”
Kit cuts me off by cupping my face once more and bringing his eyes to mine.
"Ok, ok darling, it’s ok, I understand”
His voice is gentle and soothing, the kind of voice that can in no way be tied to the horrors of her. My next inhale is wet with snot and entirely unladylike, tears continuing to make their way down my cheeks until Kit gently wipes them away with the pad of his thumb.
"You do?”
Kit smiles at me gently, nodding his head as his thumb smooths itself over the apple of my cheek.
"I do darling, I do. Now, what can I do to help?”
I inhale sharply as my eyes widen, fresh tears dampening my waterline
What?
"What?”
Kit’s voice is steady, much unlike mine, as he further explains.
"You said you are unable to rest-”
I cannot rest yet
"-until you are finished cleaning, so how can I help?”
My lower lip quivers as I am overrun with fresh emotions, how did I find myself so lucky as to have this blessing of a man in my life?
"You’d really help me?”
"Why wouldn’t I?”
He seems genuinely confused as to why I would not expect him, the king of a country, to help me, his former maid (slave) of a wife scrub the floors of his quarters after a long and grueling day of working to better the country. My befuddlement must be evident in my expression because he continues on without waiting for a reply from me.
"Ella dear, while I may not entirely understand why this is troubling you so, you are my wife, and it is my duty to you as both your devoted husband, and as your king, to help you through whatever ails you. So yes, if you need me to help you clean so that we can retire for the night and rest, then so be it!”
For the first time in hours, a true smile begins to spread across my face as I am overrun with the warmth of love that my husbands kind words bring me.
"I love you so much”
Kit smiles at me once more before sitting back on his heels, he looks around the room before beginning to roll up his pristine white shirt sleeves.
"I love you more my dear, now, tell me, what still needs to be done ?”
I cannot rest yet
"The uh-”
I clear my throat of any remaining sorrow-induced hoarseness.
"The floors, I still need to polish the tile floors”
Kit’s eyes fall upon the now abandoned scrub-brush on the floor, he swallows and then lifts the offending object and gestures with it as he speaks.
"Alright, now we are making progress, what are the odds we can find another one of these?”
I laugh gently and allow my Kit to aid me to my feet, we embrace once more before we move to find another set of tools.
I cannot rest now, but soon.