The following morning began before dawn. The clang of a bell rattled through the servants' wing, dragging Selena from a shallow sleep. She pulled herself up, body still aching from yesterday's labor, and tied her hair back with a strip of cloth.
Outside her chamber, the corridor was alive with hurried footsteps and hushed voices. Some carried trays, others baskets of linens. Selena fell into the flow, uncertain but unwilling to be left behind.
Today, she was assigned to the laundry.
The chamber was damp, heavy with the smell of lye and wet cloth. Steam rose from tubs where women scrubbed sheets until their knuckles bled. Selena was handed a bar of coarse soap and pointed toward a mountain of linen waiting to be cleaned.
"Scrub until it shines," the overseer barked.
