Raqiza was speaking in riddles to Tilda's ears. What was this business about wolves? And protecting her? Why should the Lady of the manor protect a lowly servant like herself? It made no sense. In truth, Raqiza had been kind to her as a child but Tilda had always guessed that was because the woman had enough heart to not suffer a child working in the dangerous kitchens.<br/><br/>Of course, the way Raqiza told it there was something more to the story. Almost like she felt a personal responsibility to the younger girl. It was really too much to try and figure out on top of the day's other events. A dull throbbing ache was beginning to take up residence in Tilda's head. She wanted very badly to be left alone with her thoughts, but didn't dare suggest as much from her current position.<br/><br/>Her nerves were racked, she was a mess of confusion, and Raqiza had gone from slapping and kicking her to treating her as a....as a mother might treat an adult daughter. It was nearly too much for her to absorb.<br/><br/><br/>Tilda looked down at her hands, trying very hard not to register the fact that she was sitting in Lady Raqiza's lap. If any of the other kitchen maids knew of this, she would be the subject of an endless string of rumors for months. Interlacing her fingers, she nodded slowly and spoke very carefully. "I will do better, my Lady. I will not trembled and I..." Could she honestly say she would not blush at seeing Auguste? As if such a reaction was something she could control. He...affected her. And she did not like it. "I will not blush, Madam. I promise." By the time she finished speaking, she was practically whispering. She wanted to move, to stand and return to work. The tea service had been left in the parlor and someone needed to fetch it.