The woman placed hands on hips and sighed, as though she dealt with confused girls all of the time. "The maid job? You are the applicant, aren't you?"
Poppy thought. On the one hand, she could say no. If she said no, she would be off again on her way to finding her sister. But what would she do then? If she advertised herself as a True Seer, she was bound to attract negative attention.
   If she said that yes, she was the applicant, she could pass about unnoticed for a few weeks, just another scullery maid. What Poppy overlooked was the fact that nobody could forget staring into eyes like hers, so if someone recognized her, things would almost certainly collapse on her. But what if Daisy was a scullery maid, and if Poppy said no, she would miss out on meeting her sister for the first time.
"Yes," Poppy found herself saying. "Yes, I am the applicant. I'd like to get started as soon as possible."
The woman shook her head, as though it were foolish of Poppy to have desires to begin a job as a scullery maid post haste. Poppy was so thankful to the woman that she actually gave her a hug, then ran into the stable with Tarrin. The woman walked Poppy into the palace, talking all the way.
"My name is Ms. Juleirmo, but you may call me ma'am. I oversee the royal household, and your responsibilities are to wash dishes and clean the smaller rooms. I'm glad that you've decided to come in, as our last scullery maid just ran away with the pastry chef last weekend."
Poppy giggled and then covered her mouth. She assumed a look of scandalized horror, and then dropped it and began giggling madly again. She was typically far more sober than that, but the combination of Jeorge running away and riding a horse had unhinged her sense of poise a little. Or she fell off of Tarrin one too many times and her brain was joggled.  
"You'll be rooming with the princess's lady-in-waiting, Canberra. She'll be showing you the ropes and explaining more. Let's get you a uniform before anything else."
   Poppy trailed her into a small extra dairy closet, now filled with clothes. She reached out and grasped a smaller uniform, running her fingers over the hardy serge fabric. The blue-and-gold scullery-maid's livery wasn't exactly a fine gown, but it was certainly nicer than a wet shawl and tattered skirt. She slipped behind the racks of uniforms and changed into her stiff uniform. When she emerged, the mirrored inside of the dairy closet gave a strange reflection.
   Her dark hair was tangled with twigs and caked with mud. Dirt caked her face, and her muck-stained boots were a wild contrast to her perfect new starched uniform. Her eyes were still as bright as ever and the Seer's Mark behind her ear looked fresher than before. She could almost hear Jeorge laughing at her bewildered expression. Cut it out, she told herself. He left you and stole your stone. You thought he was reformed and all of that junk, but a bandit is a bandit is a bandit.
Poppy tugged down her pleated, gold-trimmed skirt and sighed. She'd just have to grin and bear it.