She sat on the cold wooden floor with her back slouched against the narrow bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms limply resting on them. Her bare feet touched the chilled stone, but she didn't flinch. That was the kind of cold that could not reach her now.
It had had been nineteen years of her living in silenced rejection where she had learned how to shut down her feelings but this particular day, she had broken down. Her emerald eyes, so often full of life, stared ahead_ empty, glassy. The rims red due to uncontrolled weeping.
Just minutes ago, Mireille had stood beneath the veil of the moon, under the sky that refused to talk for her.
Cloaked in silence, she had handed over Aetheris vein - an ethereal relic carved from star- bone and twilight, humming with power so old it could have cursed her for daring to touch it. A relic hidden within the palace' vaults, where only death awaited thieves.
But she had taken all the risks and stolen it. Alone. Uncaught.
Not more than a month ago, her father, the king of faes had sent her under the guise of a servant because unlike others in her kingdom, she had human resemblance. It was not like the vampires would suspect a quiet, human- looking girl. They would only see her as another human maid with too- soft hands and beautiful eyes.
The knight from her kingdom had come at last, dressed like an old coachman whereby she had waited for him like a secret prayer, and he had taken the relic. But not her, and up to now, his exact words replayed in her mind.
"Milady, I am sorry, but the queen had ordered me not to bring you along."
For a moment, she had been quiet, trying to let those words sink in, and when the knight began to walk away, she had stopped him.
"But why, father had said that you would come get me the moment I accomplished what he had asked." She had asked, her voice barely a thread.
"I'm really sorry princess, but I only listen to orders. And the king didn't interject the orders."
With one last bow, he had stepped away. Then he had ridden off, the trees swallowing him like they'd been waiting to.
And now, mirielle was here, left behind in the hands of predators, with no way home.
Born of a concubine who was now dead, she was used to this feeling. The quiet rejection. The unseen bruises of never being enough and with no abilities at her age, she had learned how to smile without showing her heart. How to obey without breaking. But tonight, those walls of endless pain and loneliness tumbled and in silence, a tear slipped through the corner of her right eye which she didn't bother to wipe off. She never expected much from the queen, but why would her own father let her be subjected to this endless torment. Tonight, she didn't know how to sew herself shut again.
Mirielle didn't know how long she stayed like that. The lamp had long since gone out, leaving her into the hush of the dark, the kind of silence that made her remember things that she wanted to forget. Her limbs had numbed beneath her, her spine stiff from leaning against the iron frame of the bed. But she didn't move. Not until her body ached enough to remind her that she existed.
She finally rose, slow and silent, and slipped beneath the thin blanket. The mattress barely gave beneath her weight. She faced the wall, pulling her knees up, curling into herself like a child hiding from monsters. But the monsters were already behind her _ riding through the trees, carrying pieces of her heart home to a place that never truly claimed her.
She was no longer a princess. Just an ordinary girl with no identity, in old,faded clothes, sleeping in a room too small to hold the truth. And that's how the night passed.
Dawn came like a sigh through a stained- glass memory. Light crept along the cracks in the stone walls, hesitant and silver- blue brushing the room with a glow that felt too soft for a world that has always been cruel to her. The palace stirred slowly, the echo of footsteps waking her up from her slumber and not long after, she heard a knock, then a creak_ soft and familiar.
"Mireille, are you up?" Came a gentle voice.
It was Lillian. A human girl, same age as her, who had befriended her when she was new here. She was bright, clever- eyed girl, with her copper braid always slightly undone and a freckle on her nose that she hated.
She stepped into the room without waiting, already smiling. "You sleep like a rock. Come on, let's head to the bath before it becomes crowded."
Mireilles sat up, eyes squinting against the reluctant light. She rubbed her face, careful to paste on a groggy, harmless smile.
"Didn't sleep well," She murmured, her voice hoarse from silence.
"Yeah? Me neither," Lillian said with a grin. "Probably all those beetles in the pantry. I dreamed one of them tried to marry me."
That made mireille chuckle, just faintly. It was easy to laugh with Lillian. She never looked too closely.
The two of them made their way down the winding servant's stairwell, the cold stones biting their bare feet. The palace was quiet but not empty. Shadows stretched along the halls, and other maids passed with half- smiles, some yawning, some humming softly.
The bathing chambers for the stuff were on the lower floor, carved from dark marble veined with silver. Warm steam drifted through the open archway, clinging to skin and hair like whispers. Basins of heated water stood between carved benches, and the air buzzed faintly with the chorus of voices and splashes.
Mireille undressed with the rest of them, modestly and efficiently, folding her sleepwear and placing it on the rack. She stepped into one of the basins beside Lillian, the water warm and slightly scented from whatever the kitchen maids had scavenged_ rosemary, perhaps, or dried herbs.
Lillian dipped a cloth and scrubbed at her arms with a practiced ease. "So, guess what I heard this morning?" She said, her voice low and conspiratorial.
Mireille gave a small smile. "What?:
They say prince Julian arrived before dawn.He had been in the northern territory leading the war which has already taken over a month now, but he has arrived with victory. He is such a warrior."
"You talk about him all the time. He must be a legend." Mireille agreed.
She had heard the name severally but having arrived in this kingdom for not over a month ago, she never got to meet him as he had gone for war.
"He is just so gorgeous." Lillian responded dreamily and mireille managed a quiet laugh, forcing her shoulders to relax.
"Maybe that's all it takes to get ahead around here."
Lillian nudged her with a wet elbow. "You are pretty too. Do you see how men look at you. If I were you, I would charm one if the princes, or the ministers."
"I think I will stick to sweeping floors."
They both laughed then_ easy, simple laughter that echoed faintly around the chamber.
But mireille was watching the water now, the way it rippled around her fingers. Inside, she was drifting again, pulled between who she had been and who she pretended to be.
But she was good at pretending.
She had learnt to move like she belonged, to smile like her heart was whole, to laugh like she hadn't been abandoned at the edge of the world.
Lillian offered her a towel when they stepped out, her expression soft. "Are you alright?"
Mireille blinked, then nodded. "Of course. Why would I not be?"
She couldn't tell Lillian the truth. Wouldn't tell anyone.
Secrets were safer when they had no witnesses.
😜✌️