Polite Company (Part 2/2)
A servant girl accustomed to keeping a respectful distance casts off her fear of impropriety when a noblewoman's life is on the line.
[F victim. F rescuer. Choking. Heimlich. Supine abdominal thrusts. Rescue breathing.]
Camilla noticed it first before anyone else. After a week of trading nonverbal quips with Signore Cellini’s daughter, she was accustomed to Stefania’s tells. That tight, pinched expression was so foreign on the face of a woman usually brimming with effortless charm. When the young noblewoman suddenly stopped eating and became flushed, Camilla assumed that she was feeling nauseous and was trying very hard not to be sick in front of her father’s important guests. Then, Stefania leapt up from the table and ran off with a hand over her mouth, which practically confirmed that assumption.
The brief stunned silence after Stefania’s departure rapidly dissolved into a burst of concerned murmuring from everyone at the table. Alonzo Cellini tried his best to smooth things over.
“Ah, my apologies Giancarlo, Lucia. It seems my daughter has taken ill.”
“Shame.” Giancarlo De Bardi paused, stifled a burp, then asked, “Did you see what she ate?”
Lucia De Bardi leaned towards her husband with a look of dawning horror and muttered, “Everyone is eating the same thing, darling.”
“You need not concern yourself with the food” Alonzo quickly interjected. “Stefania has been feeling out of sorts these last few days. It happens regularly. About the same time every month.”
Stefania’s mother shot him an exasperated look and started to rise, intending to check on her daughter, but Camilla held up a reassuring hand and said, “Allow me, Signora. Please, relax and enjoy your dinner.”
Without waiting to be dismissed, the servant girl left her post and darted out into the hall. She didn’t see which way Stefania had gone, if she had tried to make it to the nearest bath or if she headed out to the courtyard for some fresh air. A pained retching noise echoed from somewhere down the hall. Camilla’s skin prickled with concern as she followed the sound.
She rounded the corner, coming up behind Stefania. The nobles’ daughter was hunched over, red in the face, heaving indelicately. Camilla was suddenly unsure of herself. The Cellinis were her employers, and nobles tended to care a lot about saving face. Perhaps what Stefania really needed in this awkward moment was privacy.
But a cold sense of dread kept Camilla rooted to the spot. Stefania kept making those small, choked gulping noises, but the whole time Camilla had been watching her, she hadn’t heard the woman inhale. Concern overrode her sensibilities, and she approached Stefania.
“My Lady, forgive me. Are you alright? You left so suddenly.”
Camilla stepped around so that she was facing Stefania, placing both hands on her shoulders and gently urging her to stand upright. Camilla’s grip tightened in fear as she took in Stefania’s appearance. Her face, streaked with tears and saliva, was quickly fading from a deep red to ashen gray. Her bright, expressive eyes were dull and unfocused and her mouth moved wordlessly as she gasped for air.
“Are you choking?” Camilla asked, though she already knew the answer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t – I’m going to help you now! Hold on!”
Camilla stood behind Stefania, wrapping her chubby arms around her waist. “I’m going to push on your stomach to make you cough,” she explained as she cuffed her fist up under her breathless companion’s ribs. “This might hurt.”
Stefania didn’t resist, in fact, she seemed to lean into the touch. Camilla wouldn’t flatter herself by thinking that was intentional.
Please let this work, Camilla pleaded silently as she wrenched her fist into Stefania’s abdomen. No change. She tried it again.
There was a strained clicking noise coming from Stefania’s throat now. That’s progress, Camilla thought. She continued the thrusts, but never managed to elicit more than a small, guttural hiccup. Though her muscles burned from the effort, it felt like she wasn’t getting enough force to be useful. As she dug her hands in again, she felt the telltale criss-cross pattern of a front lacing kirtle under Stefania’s clothes. Is that thing getting in the way? Why are thin people so obsessed with looking even thinner?
Something brushed against Camilla’s thigh, startling a gasp out of her. Stefania’s hand dangled freely, bouncing against Camilla’s leg as she rocked into her with each thrust. She was beginning to go limp and would soon be unconscious, or worse.
“Oh no, nononono, you can’t! Just – just a little more. Come on now. Breathe. Breathe!”
Camilla’s voice was shrill with fear. She let out a choked sob when Stefania’s knees finally buckled, her dead weight dragging them both down to the floor.
With a moment of stillness, Camilla became aware of her own shallow, panting breaths. She held her breath for a few seconds and blew it out slowly, trying to calm her racing heart as she figured out what to do. Perhaps shamefully, she thought of running. She was terrified of what the Cellinis would do to her if they blamed her for their daughter’s death. Even if they didn’t, Camilla knew she would never stop blaming herself. She’d hesitated in the dining room, and again out in the hall. Her interference might not be enough to guarantee Stefania’s safety, but continued inaction would guarantee her death.
With that thought steeling her nerves, Camilla scrambled to her feet and raced into a nearby room, Alonzo’s office, where she knew he kept a thin blade for opening envelopes. She snatched it off his desk and returned to Stefania’s side. The dress her Lady had chosen for the evening was a deep midnight blue, with a V-neckline and puffed sleeves that were very fashionable now. It probably cost more than Camilla’s entire wardrobe. She tried not to think about that as she gripped the neckline with both hands and gave it a firm tug. The fabric tore in a jagged line right down the centre of the dress. Camilla pushed the excess material aside, hooked her blade under the now-exposed kirtle’s laces and slashed them all, from waist to breastbone, in one smooth motion. She cut through the chemise as well, first plucking it away from the skin to avoid drawing blood.
Camilla wasted no time as she swung a leg over Stefania’s supine form and straddled her hips. She began thrusting into Stefania’s abdomen with the heel of her hands, leaning into it with her full weight. The action felt more productive now with the tension gone from Stefania’s body and the layers of clothing out of the way. It took only a couple of tries to force a ragged wheeze out of her slack, blue lips.
When Stefania made no further effort to breathe, Camilla leaned forward and hooked a thumb over the unconscious woman’s bottom teeth, opening her mouth as wide as possible as she peered inside. There was something just barely visible at the back of her throat. Camilla swept a finger into her mouth to try to retrieve the object. Somehow, this felt more invasive than cutting her out of her dress just moments ago.
The object was just out of reach. With a frustrated huff, Camilla withdrew her hand and repositioned herself to continue abdominal thrusts. Her fear gradually gave way into a grim focus, and Camilla lost herself to the rhythm of this simple repetitive task. It was positively hypnotic the way Stefania’s shoulders shrugged and breasts jiggled in in time with Camilla’s determined thrusts. Camilla’s chest hitched with excitement at each grunt and strangled gasp she managed to wring out of the choking woman. She had to force herself to stop after hearing a particularly harsh gag to check if the obstruction had cleared. This time when she swept Stefania’s mouth, a large, almost completely intact piece of meat tumbled out and landed in a pool of saliva.
Camilla dove toward Stefania and sealed their lips together, breathing deeply into the other woman’s lungs. Stefania’s chest rose, causing her breasts to graze against Camilla’s. The feeling sent a pleasant shiver through Camilla’s whole body. She delivered another breath and Stefania’s lips twitched in response.
Stefania’s throat seized with a few breathless hacks before the first lungfull of air sent her back arching off the floor in desperate relief. Camilla knelt over her, too shaken to move, while Stefania thrashed and sputtered, still loosely trapped between Camilla’s thighs.
“It’s alright, my Lady,” Camilla murmured. “Stefania, you’re alright. Just breathe now.”
Watching the colour slowly return to Stefania’s face as she recovered filled Camilla with such warmth and satisfaction that she couldn’t resist reaching down to stroke a palm against her cheek. Nothing could ruin this moment.
“It’s been ages! Where could that girl have gone?”
Except perhaps the entire dinner party walking in on them and seeing the noble family’s daughter lying half-naked under one of the servants. Camilla jerked her head up, burning from shame as much as physical exertion. Stefania’s parents and Lucia De Bardi all wore terrifically scandalized expressions. Giancarlo De Bardi grinned slyly. Stefania’s little brother Benito pointed a grubby finger at the girls and brayed enthusiastically.
As she looked up at her father in a daze, this was the only time Stefania recalled ever seeing him at a loss for words.
Well father, you did say you wanted to make a memorable impression.
