The Singer- Chapter 1

Prologue: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic66028.html

There were footnotes, so if you have any questions, ask me.

******
Chapter One: An Impractical Servant

Maria hobbled from her straw bed, dressing on the way. With her calloused hands, her dank servant’s dress was slipped on while passing under a doorway. A pail of milky water was grabbed and dumped into an animal trough, silently summoning the horses. Maria took a small cloth bag hanging on a fence post and opened it. Inside was the chicken feed, and then flung out hastily near their coop.
All the while Maria was undertaking the beginnings of her servant chores, I watched from my seat in the sewing room. The nippy morning breeze blew in my face, cooling me from the treacherous job of humanely obeying the Sewing Mistress , Beatrice.
Beatrice was as pitiless as Maria was kind. Once, before King Malville’s election, Beatrice had been sweet and almost my friend. Then, the Double-Time began and Beatrice’s temperament became like our king’s. She had long brown hair reaching her fat waist which was coarse and untamed. She was tall and bulky, like bread with bad yeast, and had no sympathy for any of us servants. King Malville liked her—not surprisingly—and appointed her as the Sewing Mistress.
“Seraphina, finish your patchwork or you will receive this whip upon your bony back!” Beatrice’s threat hit me like a spear and I immediately looked back at my weak sewing efforts. I was being made to create a small patchwork quilt for King Malville’s new born girl, Istalia. With such a pretty name, I could hardly imagine Istalia growing up to be like her father.
It was hard to keep my focus on the baby quilt. Each patch epitomized something that King Malville had succeeded in. There was a square of him and a bloody soldier fighting a white light , and one of King Malville becoming allies with King Uther .
Sensing eyes on me, I looked around. Outside, cleaning the pig pen, Maria was smiling at me. Despite all the melancholy as a slave in Iffrar, some people could strive to bring joy to other broken hearts. Like Maria.
I had faithfully loved and known Maria since what seemed like forever. I remembered enviously of those times when our families had lived together in a spacious manor, having our own servants. I remembered the times when we complained to have a bath, but now I craved one unconditionally. I remembered the thousands of toys we shared and we would yell and scream if we didn’t like it. Those days of a spoiled Maria and Seraphina were gone.
*
That night, I lay on my bedbug-infested pile of straw thinking. I thought about Maria, about Beatrice, about the patchwork quilt and myself. Without consciously realising it, I knew in a way we were all enslaved in this world. Maria and I were pronounced as servants, slaves, maids. Maybe not maids. The distant occupation allowed them to wear presentable clothes and live in a nice home. Maids we were not, but slaves, servants we were. Beatrice, the Sewing Mistress, was also imprisoned in a way. She had no right to leave the sovereignty of her own accord and she was still forced to do distasteful jobs for the Iffrarian royalty. Then the patchwork quilt. The poor squares of sewed blood had to live up to its brutality and eventually it would fall into the cursed Istalia. Every villager under King Malville’s rule was enslaved.
I lay there for a while longer, but this time thinking about the world outside of Iffrar. I wondered if it was as cruel as what I lived in, or if it was peaceful.
Once, a few years ago, a mysterious knight had come across Iffrar, looking for a place to rest the night. Providentially, he stayed at the inn I was working at that night. He met another knight he knew and they talked. Being the nosy girl I am, I listened to their banter.
“Loren! How nice it is to see you again!” cried the knight to the mystery knight.
“The same goes for you, Wennemere. Why is it you trudge upon these gloomy lands?” Knight Loren thumped his friend on the back.
“I’ve been sent here to observe Iffrar. It is a cruel kingdom and Sir Vinter wants me to monitor the king,” Knight Wennemere’s face became grave.
“Ah, I’ve heard King Malville is a large miscreant of a ruler. I’m just passing through back to my homeland,”
“Yes, yes, aren’t you from Kyvelar ?”
Knight Loren nodded. He noticed me and waved me over.
“Miss...Excuse me, but how are you called?” Knight Loren dazzled me.
“Seraphina, Miss Seraphina,” I replied, my throat feeling swelled. Knight Loren was terribly handsome.
“Pretty name,” He commented. “Anyway, I discerned you were eavesdropping. Please, if you continue to listen, sit and keep the conversation secret.” I bobbed my head and left. If I had sat, I would have felt very uncomfortable listening to their discussion with Knight Loren and Knight Wennemere knowing.
Thinking back at the event calmed me and I fell asleep with Knight Loren’s face in front of mine.
*
Maria jolted me awake.
“What?” I asked groggily.
“The mysterious knight is back!” my friend whispered. Maria knew I found him fetching and fascinating.
I instantaneously felt vigilant and animated. Quickly, I dressed and rushed out of the servant’s sleeping quarters. The stench of horses and muddy pigs filled my nostrils and enveloped my body, but I kept running out towards the main road that ran through Iffrar. Then I saw him.
Knight Loren rode ceremoniously upon his black stallion and silver riding gear. His helmet was flipped up, so I could clearly see his wind-washed face and his tangled hair. I smiled and waved my hand eagerly up at him. He looked at me oddly.
I was the only one there to meet him. Nobody else was there. I suddenly felt very awkward and I started shifting in my vulgar attire.
“You seem familiar,” Knight Loren said, and he laughed. His laugh sounded like ringing bells, and it echoed in the deserted road.
“I am Miss Seraphina, Knight Loren,” I stumbled into a curtsy and clumsily brought myself back together.
“Please do call me Loren,” the knight said.
“Yes,” I gazed into his eyes, gleaming silver.
“Miss Seraphina, come, I must talk to you about something,” Loren jumped down from his horse, and with a practiced grace, he swept me up from my feet—physically and mentally—and slid me onto his saddle. Then he hauled himself up. I positioned my hands lightly on his waist.
“We’re heading to Pig Head Inn, the one I last stayed in,” Loren stated, answering one of my questions.
Just before I passed the bakery, I noticed Maria. She looked up and waved. Being the great friend she was Maria was also doing my chores for me. Either way, when I got back to the servant’s area, I would be beaten by Beatrice for disappearing unaccountably.
*
We arrived at the Pig Head Inn soon enough. I was helped off the black horse—named Didrick —before the stable-hand, Jason, took him away. I watched Jason pull Jester behind a trough and undo his saddle and stirrups. Then I was pulled into the inn by Loren.
I’d been inside many taverns and many a time in the Pig Head, but never had I seen an inn through the eye of a customer. Now I observed countless things. I saw the drunken men commenting crudely about the waitresses and servants; I counted many distant travelers with odd fur capes and tall straw boots. Loren pulled me over the bar.
“Hello,” grunted the barman.
“We need a room for one night, please,” Loren said.
“Ah, you and the girl?” the man’s eyes glinted at me. I shrunk behind Loren.
“And two beds,” added Loren, realizing suddenly the meaning of what the man had said.
“Will do,” the man turned his back. “LORETTA!” I covered my ear against the loud noise.
From the kitchen door a stumpy lady wearing a long brown dress and a cheap piece of jewellery walked out. She cursed at her husband, and then looked at us, her face instantly transforming into a smile.
“Dear visitors, please come with me to your room,” Loretta motioned for us to follow.
I looked at Loren, who was by now heading upstairs with Loretta. He briskly strode back and took my hand is his. I swear my heart simply melted.
Loretta’s portly shadow was waiting at the top of the stairs. Her foot was pattering edgily on the hardwood.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll give your room to better clientele!” Loretta snapped. Loren and I rushed up the stairs.
We were brought to a plain wooden door carved with the number three. Loretta pushed open the door and revealed a picturesque room. One grand four poster was positioned in the center of the chamber; there was a small window and an ugly wardrobe.
“I thought we requested two beds,” Loren announced.
“We have no such thing at the Pig Head,” Loretta grunted, sounding unerringly like her husband.
“Then why didn’t you tell us?” I questioned the evident.
“Was it really needed?” Loretta snapped. She flung two towels onto the bed and marched off, closing the door for us with force. Loren stared after her with untainted revulsion.
“Do not dwell about Loretta. She’s lived through King Lionel’s death and the election of King Malville. Most people here are sour since the Double-Time started,” I explained.
“Yes, yes,” Loren looked at me curiously. “I sadly do not understand the pain of Iffrar. I come from Kyvelar, as you know, where it is happy with no sadness of war.”
“Every kingdom must go through terrible times, but I am guessing that Kyvelar has not yet reached its age,” I replied.
“Well said,” Then the knight walked over to the wardrobe. He opened it up. “It seems we have a few extra blankets here. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“But why? I’m a servant in Iffrar. I have obligations,” I was perplexed.
“Yes, but you’re an absolutely spectacular girl and it seems to me you don’t belong in this nightmarish kingdom,” Loren said, turning to smile warmly at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, isn’t it quite palpable? I’m taking you with me,” Loren threw a woollen blanket onto the floor.
“What? You can’t just take me with you!” I cried.
“Quiet, Miss Seraphina, they can hear you,” Loren’s voice lowered to a whisper. “And, yes, I can take you with me as I can classify you as a damsel in distress.”
I crossed my arms, frowning. “I am not in distress nor am I a damsel. I’m an impractical servant living in brutal conditions. That’s all.”
“Don’t you want to leave Iffrar? This dominion is horrendous!”
I grunted again. Loren had won and he knew it. I did want to leave; I was just putting up a fight to annoy him.
“Then get your things ready and be back before dinner. We must arrange plans before we set off,” Loren waved me out of the room and closed the door lightly.
I heaved a sigh of relief. I was finally leaving this wretched place, and with a knight.
 

So I haven't read the prologue BUT I enjoyed this. I read 'King Uther' and had wonderful images of the BBC series Merlin, I don't know if you've heard of it. Anyway, back to the story, like I said, I enjoyed reading this, I think it's early days with the plot, but I trust that you're going to make the next chapter incredibly exciting so I look forward to reading it.

Keep writing!

*coco

I enjoyed this, but something about it didn't quite sit right with me. I think everything went a little too smoothly for Loren and Seraphina, not one noticed he was taking her or anything. And she didn't have much trouble letting go of her life and Maria. Just a little too smooth... and there was no build up between Loren and Seraphina. Just I see you, I like you, I'm taking you. And from Loren, I didnt get much of the "I like you" part. It needs more build up, or more surprise and drama.
I dont know if you've read or seen it, but Pride and Prejudice is a good example of what I mean. With Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy you have alot of build up where you want them to be together, but you wonder if they ever will - blah blah - you yearn for their love affair because of the build up. Then, you have Jane and Mr. Bingley who are in love from the very beginning, but they are both surprised and caught up and surrounded by drama and for a long time you think they'll never recover.
I hope that makes sense. Readers have to yearn for something.

Hi again, Lav, I’m back!

Yay! I have to say that I’m really glad to see some characters! I’ll admit that I really, really love character driven stories moreso than world-driven stories (dunno what I’m doing in the fantasy genre then XD) so I was massively excited that this chapter introduces an MC, a background for her, and a group of supporting characters for me to work with. And I really like just about all of them.

Seraphina seems like a pretty interesting protagonist, and I like her relationship with Maria—it seems to me like a lot of fantasy characters are really self-absorbed (my protagonist is certainly guilty XD) so it was great to see a fantasy story that starts out with the main character thinking about someone else—even narrating as if that person were the main character. The way Seraphina’s relationship with her was written, you could really feel the closeness and the love between the two, how much Seraphina cares about Maria and values their friendship, and how grateful she is for all Maria’s continued kindness. Somehow, I think it actually added to Seraphina’s likability and relatability as a character, even more than her suffering does. I kind of really really hope that Maria won’t be forgotten now that the plot in the form of Loren has arrived—she’s got a lot of potential to bring out the best in Maria, and I would love to see that brought to the fullest.

I like how there was some hint in this chapter that Malville, while maybe not an awesome guy, is still human—he has a baby girl that Seraphina has a pretty name, and he’s demanding that a little quilt get made for her. The images of his successes are not just a battle but also a peace treaty. I think that hints at perhaps at least a bit of complexity in him, and I’m glad for that—it makes me much more curious to find out about him and who he could be.

I also think you did a great job of showing how the king’s harshness has affected the people of the kingdom, making them colder and more bitter as they struggle with the harshness of their world. It’s kind of an interesting take on the whole idea of “the evil kingdom filled with evil people” that seems to be so oddly prevalent in fantasy—this story instead takes on the idea that the people may have become so harsh and mean because the world they are surrounded by is such a harsh one, not because “they’re just evil”—I think it’s kind of a cool way to mess around with that trope.

My confusion hasn’t entirely gone away—now I’m just baffled as to whether Seraphina works in a tavern, or multiple taverns, or is a servant to the royal family, or… what. I’m also a little confused about why her noble, wealthy family fell to this point in the first place—that stuff usually goes by blood, so was it that they opposed the king and lost favor, or…? Hey, I dunno. XD Maybe I’m overthinking.

I do agree with Talulahbelle that everything seems to be going way too smoothly between Seraphina and Loren—if Seraphina loves Maria so much, why is she so willing to just abandon her? I know her life in Iffrar is terrible, but I find it a little unlikely that she would just toss her life, her friendship, her home away in a few seconds like that. Not to mention… well, to put it delicately, in an era where people were unlikely to care about a peasant woman’s consent, running off alone with a man who is physically stronger than Seraphina would have probably been a lot more scary than exciting.

I’ve only got a couple nitpicks:

Maria hobbled from her straw bed, dressing on the way. With her calloused hands, her dank servant’s dress was slipped on while passing under a doorway. A pail of milky water was grabbed and dumped into an animal trough, silently summoning the horses. Maria took a small cloth bag hanging on a fence post and opened it. Inside was the chicken feed, and then flung out hastily near their coop.

I really don’t want to say this, because it was the favorite complaint of an English teacher I really hated in ninth grade, but this paragraph is really passive-voice heavy. (As in, it says things like “this was done” instead of “she did this.”) Normally, I don’t have a problem with this, but the paragraph here kind of gives the impression that the Invisible Man is dressing her or something. I also think the last sentence may be missing a few words? It’s kind of confusing.

I remembered enviously of those times

I don’t think the “of” is needed here.

Still, I think this was an interesting continuation of the prologue, and I love the main character and her friendship with Maria. I really hope this keeps on developing the characters and the world like it has been, because I’m enjoying both immensely, and I can’t wait to see you in chapter two!

Hey there.

With her calloused hands, her dank servant’s dress was slipped on while passing under a doorway.

Kind of stitled. I think it's because it's in passive voice.

I remembered the times when we complained to have a bath, but now I craved one unconditionally.

I think you would of been better off by just telling us what you are talking about. It is vague at the moment.

Overall impressions:

Hrmm. I kind of lost interest in this half way through. I think the reason for that is because how nothing really seems to be happening. The narrator's just talking about all these irrelevant things. One thing that annoyed me was that she kept mentioning about her past, but little attempt was made to develop this further.

It would of been better if you had focused the piece more on a point, maybe doing a compare and contrast to the narrator's past and present? That would of been more interesting to read about than just some servants doing stuff.

Andy.

Hey Lav, Stella here!

I. NITPICKS

Maria hobbled from her straw bed, dressing on the way.

Ah, this is more like it, a better beginning.

All the while Maria was undertaking the beginnings of her servant chores, I watched from my seat in the sewing room.

Wait, what? She's not your MC? This seems a weird way to introduce it.

Providentially, he stayed at the inn I was working at that night.

Provi-what?

Alright.

II. WHAT?

I mean, here she is, living her hard, conflict-striven life with the sewing mistress and the king and the baby princess... and then she's suddenly literally riding away with a knight! And, for, it seems, no apparent reason. It just doesn't run as a story should, and it left a bit of a bad taste in the mouth. Loren's motives are seemingly non-existent and you don't really give us a realistic view of her past life to believe she's leaving it.

III. OVERALL

I do enjoy the banter though, and I don't dislike it. Just needs work.

Hope I helped, drop me a note if you need anything!

-Stella x

It's agin good. But i was lost at the beggining as to who was telling the story. I was unclear at the beggining when:

Maria hobbled from her straw bed, dressing on the way.

This was unclear to me on where she was going exactly.
How old are these people meant to be? Is my big question.

nevertheless its good.

Harpo

Hello there,

Since this is supposed to be a serious piece of work I decided to make a *serious* review for it.

Maria hobbled from her straw bed, dressing on the way. With her calloused hands, her dank servant’s dress was slipped on while passing under a doorway. A pail of milky water was grabbed and dumped into an animal trough, silently summoning the horses. Maria took a small cloth bag hanging on a fence post and opened it. Inside was the chicken feed, and then flung out hastily near their coop. This sounds awkward gramatically, try *inside was the chicken feed, that was flung out hastily near their coop[/color
]All the while Maria was undertaking the beginnings of her servant chores, I watched from my seat in the sewing room. The nippy morning breeze blew in my face, cooling me from the treacherous job of humanely obeying the Sewing Mistress , Beatrice. [color=#FF0000]That sounds awfully constipated let alone makes no sense
Beatrice was as pitiless as Maria was kind. Once, before King Malville’s election, Beatrice had been sweet and almost my friend. Then, the Double-Time began and Beatrice’s temperament became like our king’s. She had long brown hair reaching her fat waist which was coarse and untamedI had to reread this to understand that her hair was coarse and untamed, change the position of the adjectives. She was tall and bulky, like bread with bad yeast, and had no sympathy for any of us servants. King Malville liked her—not surprisingly—and appointed her as the Sewing Mistress.
“Seraphina, finish your patchwork or you will receive this whip upon your bony back!” Beatrice’s threat hit me like a spear and I immediately looked back at my weak sewing efforts. I was being made to create a small patchwork quilt for King Malville’s new born girl, Istalia. With such a pretty name, I could hardly imagine Istalia growing up to be like her father.
It was hard to keep my focus on the baby quilt. Each patch epitomized something that King Malville had succeeded in. There was a square of him and a bloody soldier fighting a white light , and one of King Malville becoming allies with King Uther there were only two patches? it seems you are trying to develop an idea here but not quite reach it..
Sensing eyes on me, I looked around. Outside, cleaning the pig pen, Maria was smiling at me. Despite all the melancholy as a slave in Iffrar, some people could strive to bring joy to other broken hearts. Like Maria. redundant, *people like maria* sounds less strained, but even that is not needed because the reader already understands that fact that the narrator is talking about Maria
I had faithfully loved and known Maria since what seemed like forever. I remembered enviously of gramatic mistakethose times when our families had lived together in a spacious manor they lived together,having our own servants. I remembered the times when we complained to have a bath, but now I craved one unconditionally. I remembered the thousands of toys we shared and we would yell and scream if we didn’t like it. Those days of a spoiled Maria and Seraphina do not use *a* because the two girls are pluralwere gone.
*
That night, I lay on my bedbug-infested pile of straw thinking. I thought about Maria, about Beatrice, about the patchwork quilt and aboutmyselfsounds like she is thinking about the quilt in relation to herself without the extra *about*. Without consciously realising it, I knew in a way we were all enslaved in this world. Maria and I were pronounced as servants, slaves, maids. Maybe not maids. The distant occupation allowed them to wear presentable clothes and live in a nice home. Maids we were not, but slaves, servants we were. Beatrice, the Sewing Mistress, was also imprisoned in a way. She had no right to leave the sovereignty of her own accord and she was still forced to do distasteful jobs for the Iffrarian royalty. Then the patchwork quilt. The poor squares of sewed blood had to live up to its brutality and eventually it would fall into the cursed Istaliamakes no sense, work on this. Every villager under King Malville’s rule was enslaved.
I lay there for a while longer, but this time thinking about the world outside of Iffrar. I wondered if it was as cruel as what I lived in, or if it was peaceful.
Once, a few years ago, a mysterious knight had come across Iffrar, looking for a place to rest the night. Providentially, he stayed at the inn I was working at that night. He met another knight he knew and they talkedOk, she just saw him, how was she supposed to know they are aquainted? Remember, what your characters know, what you know and what your reader has stored in their mind are three very different things that must not overlap. Being the nosy girl I am, I listened to their banter.
“Loren! How nice it is to see you again!” cried the knight to the mystery knight. work on this, very constipated and tangled
“The same goes for you, Wennemere. Why is it you trudge upon these gloomy lands?” Knight Loren thumped his friend on the back.
“I’ve been sent here to observe Iffrar. It is a cruel kingdom and Sir Vinter wants me to monitor the king,” Knight Wennemere’s face became grave.
“Ah, I’ve heard King Malville is a large miscreant of a ruler. I’m just passing through back to my homeland,”
“Yes, yes, aren’t you from Kyvelar ?”
Knight Loren nodded. He noticed me and waved me over.
“Miss...Excuse me, but how are you called?” Knight Loren dazzled me.
“Seraphina, Miss Seraphina,” I replied, my throat feeling swelled. Knight Loren was terribly handsome.
“Pretty name,” He commented. “Anyway, I discerned you were eavesdropping. Please, if you continue to listen, sit and keep the conversation secret.” I bobbed my head and left. If I had sat, I would have felt very uncomfortable listening to their discussion with Knight Loren and Knight Wennemere knowing. awkward phrasing, I understand what you are trying to say but *knowing*? try working on that sentence
Thinking back at the event calmed me and I fell asleep with Knight Loren’s face in front of mine.
*
Maria jolted me awake.
“What?” I asked groggily.
“The mysterious knight is back!” my friend whispered. Maria knew I found him fetching and fascinating.
I instantaneously felt vigilant and animated. Quickly, I dressed and rushed out of the servant’s sleeping quarters. The stench of horses and muddy pigs filled my nostrils and enveloped my body, but I kept running out towards the main road that ran through Iffrar. Then I saw him.
Knight Loren rode ceremoniously upon his black stallion and silver riding gear. His helmet was flipped up, so I could clearly see his wind-washed face and his tangled hair. I smiled and waved my hand eagerly up at him. He looked at me oddly.
I was the only one there to meet him. Nobody else was there. I suddenly felt very awkward and I started shifting in my vulgar attire.
“You seem familiar,” Knight Loren said, and he laughed. His laugh sounded like ringing bells, and it echoed in the deserted road.
“I am Miss Seraphina, Knight Loren,” I stumbled into a curtsy and clumsily brought myself back together.
“Please do call me Loren,” the knight said.
“Yes,” I gazed into his eyes, gleaming silver.
“Miss Seraphina, come, I must talk to you about something,” Loren jumped down from his horse, and with a practiced grace, he swept me up from my feet—physically and mentally—and slid me onto his saddle. Then he hauled himself up. I positioned my hands lightly on his waist.
“We’re heading to Pig Head Inn, the one I last stayed in,” Loren stated, answering one of my questions.
Just before I passed the bakery, I noticed Maria. She looked up and waved. Being the great friend she was Maria was also doing my chores for me.how does she know that? how do we know that? Either way, when I got back to the servant’s area, I would be beaten by Beatrice for disappearing unaccountably.
*
We arrived at the Pig Head Inn soon enough. I was helped off the black horse—named Didrick —before the stable-hand, Jason, took him away. I watched Jason pull Jester behind a trough and undo his saddle and stirrupsterrible incosistency, remember the information you give the readers, otherwise you risk confusing them and boring them. Then I was pulled into the inn by Loren.
I’d been inside many taverns and many a time in the Pig Head, but never had I seen an inn through the eye of a customer. Now I observed countless things. I saw the drunken men commenting crudely about the waitresses and servants; I counted many distant travelers with odd fur capes and tall straw boots. Loren pulled me over the bar.
“Hello,” grunted the barman.
“We need a room for one night, please,” Loren said.
“Ah, you and the girl?” the man’s eyes glinted at me. I shrunk behind Loren.
“And two beds,” added Loren, realizing suddenly the meaning of what the man had said.
“Will do,” the man turned his back. “LORETTA!” I covered my ear ears? just because the guy shouted for his wife? sounds childish & unrealisticagainst the loud noise.
From the kitchen door a stumpy lady wearing a long brown dress and a cheap piece of jewellery walked out. She cursed at her husband, and then looked at us, her face instantly transforming into a smile.
“Dear visitors, please come with me to your room,” Loretta motioned for us to follow.
I looked at Loren, who was by now heading upstairs with Loretta. He briskly strode back and took my hand is his. I swear my heart simply melted.
Loretta’s portly shadow was waiting at the top of the stairs. Her foot was pattering edgily on the hardwood.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll give your room to better clientele!” Loretta snapped. Loren and I rushed up the stairs.
We were brought to a plain wooden door carved with the number three. Loretta pushed open the door and revealed a picturesque room. One grand four poster was positioned in the center of the chamber; there was a small window and an ugly wardrobe. does not sound picturesque, careful when you choose your adjectives
“I thought we requested two beds,” Loren announced.
“We have no such thing at the Pig Head,” Loretta grunted, sounding unerringly like her husband.
“Then why didn’t you tell us?” I questioned the evident.
“Was it really needed?” Loretta snappedyou have used snapped for this person two times, is this intentional? it does not really flow well. She flung two towels onto the bed and marched off, closing the door for us with force. Loren stared after her with untainted revulsionyes we get it, we're supposed to see him as noble etc. but this just makes no sense.
“Do not dwell about Loretta. She’s lived through King Lionel’s death and the election of King Malville. Most people here are sour since the Double-Time started,” I explained.
“Yes, yes,” Loren looked at me curiously. “I sadly do not understand the pain of Iffrar. I come from Kyvelar, as you know, where it is happy with no sadness of war.”
“Every kingdom must go through terrible times, but I am guessing that Kyvelar has not yet reached its age,” I replied.
“Well said,” Then the knight walked over to the wardrobe. He opened it up. “It seems we have a few extra blankets here. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“But why? I’m a servant in Iffrar. I have obligations,” I was perplexed.
“Yes, but you’re an absolutely spectacular girl and it seems to me you don’t belong in this nightmarish kingdom,” Loren said, turning to smile warmly at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, isn’t it quite palpable? I’m taking you with me,” Loren threw a woollen blanket onto the floor.
“What? You can’t just take me with you!” I cried.
“Quiet, Miss Seraphina, they can hear you,” Loren’s voice lowered to a whisper. “And, yes, I can take you with me as I can classify you as a damsel in distress.”
I crossed my arms, frowning. “I am not in distress nor am I a damsel. I’m an impractical servant living in brutal conditions. That’s all.”
“Don’t you want to leave Iffrar? This dominion is horrendous!”
I grunted again. Loren had won and he knew it. I did want to leave; I was just putting up a fight to annoy him.
“Then get your things ready and be back before dinner. We must arrange plans before we set off,” Loren waved me out of the room and closed the door lightly.
I heaved a sigh of relief. I was finally leaving this wretched place, and with a knight.
 

You are giving too many details to the reader; some are being completely useless, while others just plain distracting. All the background history about the kingdom should be relevant to the context and given out in dosages and then developed. Every word should serve a purpose, not a meaningless filler.

Character development is weak; the only person the reader can envisoin properly is Maria who is not even a main character. And your main character, after gushing over Maria being so wonderful just decides to leave her there with a handsome knight? Right. It sounds sappy and the whole chapter seemed to be dragged out i nthe beggining to try and submerge the reader into that era/setting and then suddengly rushed into a lovey-dovey situation. The main character shounds way too romantisiced and seems not to have a substance to her; she's lived through pretty rough times and when she's finally offered a chance to escape with the man of her dreams she DENIES her lucky ticket simply to annoy him?

The beggining was good but then it all just went downhill and very constipated. There were parts that I liked but they were few and smudged by strong blunders throughout the story. This piece has a potential to be interesting but you've got a lot of work to do before it becomes just that.

Hope that review helped :3