Cinder X Bella ~ Twenty-Five!

Bella ran her fingers down her arm, looking at what the system had updated for her. Exactly as she’d hoped, her Minor Creature Control skill had finally increased after years of dedicated, focused, intentional effort… and she couldn't even pinpoint why.

Skill increase! Minor Creature Control [Level 7 (Proficient) → Level 8 (Extensive)]!

Advanced Skill: Minor Creature Control: Level 8/10.

When communing with non-magical minor creatures—size limit: the tips of your fingers to your elbow in body length. Maximum of five pounds—you are able to exert [Extensive] control over their actions.

Requirement to advance to level 9: remain focused on and complete a task in only 1 hour which would require a team of three Proficient humans a minimum of 24 hours.

“That’s… absurd!” Bella read over the requirement three times, four, completely shocked at how difficult it was. “It took me what, two years? Two years to move from Proficient to Extensive, now it wants me to complete the work of three of myself yesterday in an hour? That’s…”

She quietly raged for a short while, trying to think of any loopholes or ways around this ridiculous requirement. “Okay, there's nothing in the message that says it has to be only my animals who are working on it, so at least I can work with them to speed it along. Still… I can see why people get stuck in the upper levels of their skill and never reach their Breakthrough Skills. By the system, if this is what the advancement in the Basic Class looks like, what will my Full Class look like?”

Musing on that thought, Bella lost track of time as she envisioned the potency and impressiveness of her future classes and abilities. 

Still, all good things come to an end, and as soon as the sun had peeked over the horizon, Matringa called all the girls to the dining room to discuss the changes in the manor. The expectation that there would be food to buffer her from her stepfamily failed, being the very first change Matringa pointed out.

“As you can all see by this empty table,” the woman grumped at her charges, “as soon as I informed the cook we would no longer be paying him, he left without even preparing the next day's food. Needless to say, he did not get a recommendation on the way out. We are down to only three maids, and so we’re all going to have to make some sacrifices on our expected comfort.”

Bella's mouth was completely dry as she waited for the inevitable reassignment of her servant duties. Even so, the young lady thought back over the letter that had arrived from her father and realized Matringa was going far beyond what he had stipulated.

Alaric had called for extra projects to be halted, such as expansions and unnecessary ornamentation. He most certainly hadn’t even hinted at firing the entirety of the staff. Knowing the answer, but wondering how her stepmother would spin things, Bella cautiously questioned, “Is this what father asked for in his letter?”

“Oh me, oh my.” Matringa raised an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps your lessons on logistics from your father are even more distant in your memories than I had expected. Let me explain, child. We must pay the price of preparation, or it will cost us a princely portion when it’s time to pay the piper, if his product isn’t purchased.”

“Ugh.” Bella let out the softest of noises at the condescending comment, though luckily, her stepmother moved on quickly.

“Now, as I said before, everyone will be making sacrifices.” Matringa spoke sadly, shaking her head as she looked at her daughters as though they were going to need to sell their home, dresses, and wear the clothing of paupers. “Malvagio, Cattiva, both of you will now be responsible for cleaning your own rooms and making your beds. You will also be in charge of cleaning up after yourself in the lessons room. Bella, as you are the only one with experience, I'll need you to return to your tasks in the kitchen to ensure we all have the strength to get through this difficult time.” 

Bella stared at her stepmother sullenly as she was saddled with the task of cooking, a constant effort with so many people in the house. Surprisingly, that was the only task she was given—at least for now. “So… I'm waiting to hear the part where everyone is making sacrifices? Are they going to help out with anything actually useful to the family?”

“Is the firing of our maids not enough for you?” Malvagio shook her head with a small roll of her eyes, looking at her mother for vindication. “She said we need to make sacrifices, not suffer.”

“Not now, girls. Bella, I’ve no intention of going over matters of the estate with you. I'll take care of all of us, you just do what is asked of you, like a good little girl.” Matringa waved them off and stood wearily. “Since we are all sacrificing breakfast today, I expect lunch at the proper time. Unless you think you have enough time to dawdle, you ought to get started. Off you go… go on. Weren't you just complaining the other day about having nothing to do? I think this works out well for everyone involved.” 

Remembering she was supposed to be playing a part was the only reason Bella kept her mouth closed and started walking out of the room. Before she could make it, Matringa called out as if she’d just remembered something, “The menu today calls for seven bean soup, but your dear sister Cattiva has troubles eating the split peas, so be a dear and pick all of those out.”

Bella continued onward as though she hadn't heard anything, but knew if she didn't accommodate her stepsister, there would be some severe, ridiculous punishment headed her way. “Pick out the peas? Why? That's the most bizarre ask I've ever had for meal prep.”

After making her way to the kitchen, she quickly realized exactly why she’d been given such a seemingly simple task. The contents of the soup were dry currently but had already been mixed in a large container. Dried peas were absolutely tiny, and the task would take her hours if she tried to do it by hand. But if the beans weren’t put on to soak, and soon, they would be too tough to eat, even if she boiled them the entire time they were cooking. 

That meant lunch would be late, which would throw her into a spiral of punishments and continuously failed tasks—clearly the point of the task she had been given.

“Nope, I'm not letting this happen,” Bella snarled as she lifted the pot of dried foodstuff. She walked to the back of the kitchen, raised an eyebrow at the fact that the padlock on the pantry was gone, and stepped into the small room, closing the door behind her. “I refuse to give in when she sets me up for failure.” 

Humming a few bars to try and even out her voice, Bella prepared her throat and softly sang out:

“Mice on a mission, come sort with ease! Tiny paws quickly separate these peas. Beans to the left, in neat little rows. I'll help out; it's how our teamwork grows!”

She laid out a tablecloth, carefully pouring the contents of the pot onto it. Immediately, a dozen mice swarmed through the mix, tossing peas out ever so quickly. A quarter of them were set to the side to cook and give back to the mice as thanks for their help, while the other portion would be served with dinner so there would be no wastage. Even with as quickly as she could scoop the beans and peas into separate areas, the mice were able to move faster, and soon she was looking at a pile of mixed dried beans and a separate, much smaller, pile of peas. 

“That took… minutes.” The gears in her head began spinning, even as she thanked the mice and promised them cooked peas later in the day. “Maybe it is actually possible to complete the next level increase quest?” 

The next task was soaking and boiling the beans, so she got the kettle on the stove and bustled around the pantry, putting together a simple salad along with toasting some bread with minced garlic and butter. “It's a simple but filling lunch. Any reasonable person who eats at our table should be satisfied. Which means… I guess I should be prepared to be punished for something, since there are no reasonable people in the house besides the servants.”

Once everything was ready, she checked the time and found that she had another two hours before she needed to serve everything. Knowing no rodents would get into the food, she covered everything and put it away. Then she went upstairs and set the table. 

Matringa walked in as she was putting down the last of the cutlery and was wondering what to do next. “Bella? What are you doing in here? Should you be idle at this moment? Perhaps my instructions for the day were unclear?” 

“Not at all, Signora Matringa.” Bella responded in the same deferential tone she’d always spoken in while playing her part as a servant. One half demure, one half respectful: the perfect recipe to remain invisible to her stepmother. At least, unless she was specifically looking for trouble. “The beans are soaking, and everything should be ready just in time for lunch.”

“I suppose we shall see, shan’t we?” Matringa looked around the room suspiciously, then she slowly walked out and up the stairs to the study, going by the sound of her footfalls.

Deciding against remaining in an area where she was an easy target, Bella returned to the kitchen and began cleaning up in preparation for starting on supper. After she got a large pot of water boiling, she poured it into the wash basin and swirled some soap around in it. Thankfully, the water cooled quickly, with only the pots and pans with the most caked-on burns having been left in to soak. When it was cool enough to work with, she plunged her hands in and began scrubbing, only to flinch away as she heard a *plop* and felt a spray of sudsy water on her face.

She glanced to the side, finding a trio of mice standing on the counter and working together to push a cast iron pan into the wash basin. Letting out a stunted laugh, she helped them out by picking up the pan and setting it to the side. “I appreciate your eagerness, but I can't imagine the uproar that would ensue if I washed a cast iron pan in soapy water. Can you bring me the spatulas instead? Feel free to enjoy the batter on them.”

Several squeaks of excitement came moments later, and from that moment forward, each dish sent over had only the faintest sheen of scraps on them. Even pans with charred remains were cleaned as the mice happily ate what humans couldn't or wouldn't. When the last pan had been pushed into the water, the mice stood and waited for the next task, so Bella shrugged and tore a rag into small pieces for them.

*Squeak?*

The muted sound called her attention to the floor, where dozens of other rodents were waiting to be a part of the efforts. She happily handed them soapy rags, and they began scrubbing the floor. 

Soon, she was nearly done with the dishes, far sooner than she’d expected to be. By the time she needed to start pulling lunch out, the floors were swept and mopped, the countertops cleared and cleaned, and all in all, Bella had a pristine workspace. “Thank you all; I'll prepare a special meal for you later. Why don't you all run along now; I'll finish up here?”

The kitchen cleared out, and Bella began putting serving dishes on her tray to haul upstairs, when she saw Gus waiting next to the soup pot, staring at it hungrily. “Poor little guy, I saw how hard you worked on those peas! Sure, why don't I-”

“Who are you talking to?” Malvagio’s voice rang out from the doorway, causing Bella to jump and nearly send the soup flying. She barely managed to catch the pot in time, causing her stepsister to screech and flinch away in fear of having boiling soup dumped on her. “Honestly! What's wrong with you? Are you trying to disfigure me with boiling soup because I asked you a question?”

“Sorry, sorry! I was lost in my own little world there. I was talking to myself and wasn't expecting someone to answer.” Bella dipped her hands in the now-cool water of the basin to try and remove some of the pain from grabbing the hot pot, then grabbed a hand towel, dried herself, and dropped it on the tray to cover Gus. 

Malvagio watched on suspiciously, looking around the room to see if perhaps one of the silenced maids had been present, before finally huffing and returning her gaze to Bella. “Speaking to yourself isn't a healthy habit. Now, the only reason I'd come down to this pit is because Mother told me to come and remind you about the peas. Lunch is coming up, and now that the soup is hot and everything is soft, it's going to be a lot harder for you to finish on time.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” Bella replied calmly, turning to stare at her stepsister blankly. “You should go back upstairs; it's almost time to eat.”

Malvagio didn't move, instead stepping forward and leaning against the counter as she studied the younger woman. “So… you just cook, clean, and talk to yourself in here?”

“Are you volunteering to come keep me company?” Bella challenged her, pushing the tray closer to Malvagio. “The work is pretty much done this time around, but I suppose you could do the absolute bare minimum and help carry it upstairs.”

“I'm certainly not about to lower myself to doing kitchen work.” The typically apathetic artist spat to the side, leaving a wet splotch on the recently cleaned floor. All mirth and joking mannerisms drained out of Bella as her stare turned into a glare.

Pointing at the floor, Bella calmly stated, “You're going to clean that up, right now. Do you know how people get sick? Disgusting behavior like that. I don't know what makes you think kitchen work is so beneath you. Life skills aren't something to look down on. Being useful isn't something to be mocked.”

“Pshh.” Malvagio scoffed even as Bella stepped closer to her. She watched her younger stepsister with a hint of nervousness but tried to hide it behind her standoffish thoughts. “Our usefulness is so much more than you could ever dream of. We're going to change this world. You? You're just learning that you're in your rightful place—serving us. Someday, you'll go too far, and Mother will take you to her friend along the ocean, and then we'll not have to put up with your incessant complaints. Believe me, the rest of us can barely wait for that day to come.”

The threat touched a deeply held fear of Bella's, a concern which had been in the back of her mind since the three silenced maids had been introduced to the household. Even so, all the reminder did was make her even more angry. “I told you to clean up that spittle.”

“Make me.” Malvagio barely got the words out before her smug smile turned to rigid fear as Bella lunged forward, grabbing the front of Malvagio’s dress and yanking on her. Muscles built by years of hard work in the house barely strained against her stepsister’s comparatively willowy form. In an instant, the stepsister was on the ground, being pushed back and forth like an oversized rag to clean up the spittle. “You! You wretch! You scullery maid! Get off me!”

Bella let her go and stepped back, a smile firmly in place on her face. “I'd like to remind you not to make a mess in the kitchen. It's not good for your health.”

“I'm going straight to Mother!” Malvagio swore as she scrambled to her feet and out the door.

“Perfect. Let her know lunch is ready.”