Elira had already packed her belongings, her heart brimming with excitement. She had finally been appointed as a regular household maid in the royal mansion. At last, she would have a purpose, and no longer be a burden to Mrs Joana. Though it pained her to leave, Elira knew it was necessary. She had never wished to work as a maid, yet circumstances demanded it, and she had to face reality.
"Finished packing up?" Startled, Elira looked up to see Silvia sitting casually at the door of her room. Silvia had returned to Mrs Joana's house after completing her own chores, and beside her, her son Luke was quietly sobbing, unwilling to part from his beloved auntie.
"Auntie… are you really leaving?" Luke's small voice broke with sobs, and his tears glistened in the soft afternoon light.
Elira knelt beside him, gently taking his tiny hands in hers. She forced a cheerful smile, hoping to soothe him. "Don't worry, Luke. I'll come to visit you, alright?"
"You… you will?" he sniffled, eyes wide with hope.
"Yes," Elira said warmly. Luke's arms immediately wrapped around her in a tight hug. Rising to her feet, Elira felt a swell of affection, silently promising she would keep her word.
Silvia's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Do send my regards to Sylas if you see him," she said with a wink. Elira simply nodded, a soft smile tugging at her lips. Gathering her small luggage, she made her way downstairs, where Mrs Joana awaited, her hands resting firmly on Elira's shoulders.
"My daughter, are you ready?" Joana asked, her voice thick with emotion.
"Yes, Mrs Joana," Elira replied, returning the heartfelt embrace. They lingered in each other's arms, bidding farewell as though they could hold onto the moment forever.
"Take care of yourself," Joana murmured, her hand wavering in a tender wave. Silvia, Luke, and Lucien joined in the farewell, each waving as Elira stepped back. She returned their gestures with a bright, encouraging smile before turning away. Soon, she was seated in the carriage, an route to the royal mansion.
'I wonder if Bea got accepted…' she thought, a flutter of curiosity mingling with excitement. She sank back into the carriage seat, letting herself relax, though her heart still raced with anticipation.
Thoughts of seeing Sylas and Cassian again curved a quiet smile on her lips. "I wonder how he will react…" she whispered, her voice almost carried away by the wind.
But beneath that small ripple of joy, an older tide moved—one nameless, one she had guarded far longer than she dared admit. A memory shaped like a shadow; a feeling kept like a sealed letter in the chambers of her heart.
And when that unspoken name brushed the edges of her thoughts, a faint color rose on her cheeks… a silent bloom whose meaning only she understood.
The carriage moved steadily along the cobbled roads, assigned to fetch the newly hired servants of the royal household. Inside, Elira's excitement bubbled quietly beneath her calm exterior, a mixture of nerves and delight at the new chapter of her life about to begin.
As Elira finally arrived at the royal mansion, she found herself waiting patiently in the servants' quarters, standing among the other young women gathered in the training hall. All of them were quietly anticipating the arrival of the head maid—the woman who would be responsible for their training. Elira's simple brown dress fell neatly around her frame, her soft brown hair tied back to keep it tidy.
"Elira!"
Bea's voice rang from behind, loud enough to echo through the corridor. Elira's expression brightened instantly as she turned, her eyes warming the moment she saw her friend. The two girls hurried towards each other and exchanged a tight embrace, clinging for a moment to their shared excitement. They were finally about to be accepted as maids—a dream neither of them had ever expected to reach.
Bea wore a beige dress, the kind commonly worn by village girls, with her hair braided into two neat plaits.
"What role did they give you, Bea?" Elira asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"I'll be working as a hall maid. And you?" Bea replied.
"I'm assigned as a household maid… I'm truly glad," Elira said with a small laugh. The two of them giggled together, overwhelmed with excitement at the thought of working inside the royal palace—something every commoner dreamed of.
Once all the ladies had settled down, the head maid's assistant stepped forward and instructed everyone to line up. Elira and Bea stood side-by-side, joining the long formation of hopeful servants.
"The head maid is here," the assistant announced.
A hush swept through the room as an older woman entered. She was tall and dignified, with silver hair tied into a tight bun, sharp yellow eyes framed by spectacles, and a black dress with a white-trimmed collar. Her presence alone demanded respect.
"Please group yourselves according to your designated positions," the assistant directed.
Bea gave Elira a quick farewell nod before moving to the hall-maid line, while Elira returned the gesture and stepped into the household-maid group.
When everyone had gathered, the assistant stepped aside, allowing the head maid to speak.
"Greetings, ladies," the head maid said, her voice steady and solemn. The sound of it sent a strange rush through Elira, an overwhelming mix of awe and nervousness. Something about this woman's face tugged at her memory—as though she had seen her somewhere before.
"I am Jovana Isolde of Macintosh, the head maid of this imperial mansion," she declared.
"Greetings, Ma'am," the women replied in unison, including Elira and Bea.
"At this juncture, I will discuss the rules and regulations before your training begins," Jovana continued, accepting a teaching stick from her assistant. She tapped it lightly against her palm as she walked slowly along the rows of maids, observing each girl with a keen eye.
"The first rule concerns Dress Code and Appearance. Your uniforms must remain clean and presentable at all times. Hair must be neatly tied or styled according to palace rules. Hands and nails must stay clean. And avoid extravagance—no jewellery. Remember, you are not nobles; you are servants."
Elira glanced at Jovana from the corner of her eye, trying to study the strict precision in the older woman's movements. She had once thought being a maid would be simple, but she was beginning to see how many rules and expectations came with the role.
Jovana paused beside a young girl and used the tip of her stick to correct the girl's posture. The girl straightened immediately, shoulders stiff with tension. From a distance, Elira watched how Jovana conducted her discipline—with firm, unwavering authority.
"Always address nobles properly," Jovana continued. "'Your Majesty,' 'My Lord,' or 'My Lady,' followed by a bow. Ana, demonstrate."
Ana the assistant of the head maid stepped forward with graceful poise, bowing with elegance, one hand placed gently over her chest. She looked every bit the model servant.
"Conduct and Behavior: You must remain polite, respectful, and discreet at all times. Duties and Areas: Stay only in your assigned locations—kitchen, laundry, halls, or noble rooms if permitted. Never enter any room without permission. Tasks must be done efficiently and quietly."
Elira lowered her gaze, trying to commit every rule to memory. She did not notice Jovana approaching until the cold tip of the stick touched her chin.
Her breath hitched. She raised her head quickly, her eyes meeting Jovana's piercing yellow stare. A sudden jolt of fear and uncertainty swept through her chest, her heart skipping a beat.
"And most importantly…" Jovana said, still holding her gaze.
"Meals and breaks are taken only in staff areas. And you must refrain from forming inappropriate attachments or attempting to seduce the crown prince, who is known to be the most handsome man in this mansion."
A ripple of excitement stirred among the ladies, some of them giggling softly at the mention of the prince. Elira, however, felt her stomach tighten—not because of the warning, but because the crown prince they spoke of was none other than Cassian… the same Cassian who had been her closest friend.
She swallowed hard, unsure if Jovana was directing her warning at her or someone else. Straightening her posture, Elira forced her expression to remain calm.
"Such rare golden eyes…" Jovana murmured, examining Elira's features closely. She lowered her stick and circled around her, Elira feeling a warm film of nervous sweat form across her skin.
"Brown hair, fair skin, tall and firm…" Jovana continued, her eyes narrowing. "Such rare, golden eyes. what is your name, girl?"
Elira swallowed again before replying softly, "I am Elira… Madam."
"Elira of…? Are you from a fallen noble family?" Jovana asked, her tone sharp.
"No… I am Elira of Highthorn. Just a commoner, Madam," she answered.
"Very well," Jovana said simply, moving back to the front of the room. Elira released a quiet breath, relief washing over her. For a moment she had feared Jovana would accuse her of something.
"Your training begins tomorrow. Be prepared, and be punctual. Anyone who arrives late will be dismissed immediately."
With that final command, Jovana swept out of the room. Her assistant, Ana, stepped forward and instructed the women to follow her to their assigned quarters.
Once they were released, Elira hurried toward Bea, letting out a long sigh of relief. She still felt tense from her brief confrontation with Jovana, her heart beating far faster than she wished—but at least the ordeal was over.
After the head maid's assistant assigned Elira and the other girls to their rooms, she stepped inside the small chamber given to her. It was much smaller than the one she had used in Joana's house, yet to Elira, it felt more than enough—quiet, simple, and a place she could finally rest. Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling warmth across the floor and brushing gently against her face, carrying with it a whisper of the fresh morning air drifting in through the slightly open pane.
She placed her belongings into a small wooden chest, the kind typically used by maids to store their things. After arranging everything neatly, she sat down on her bed. Beside it stood a tiny table with a single chair facing a wall-mounted mirror.
Elira lifted her gaze toward her reflection. A soft smile tugged at her lips—part relief, part disbelief that she was truly here. She stepped closer to the small table where the mirror hung, and with a gentle sigh, she pulled out the chair and sat down.
Carefully, she loosened her tied hair and picked up the small broom-like brush. Her long, tender curls slid over her shoulders and down to her chest as she brushed them, each stroke calming her racing thoughts. The sunlight caught strands of her hair, making them shimmer like spun gold. The new room may have been modest, but it felt peaceful—hers, even for a little while.
Knock! Knock!
"Elira, are you there? It's me…" Bea's voice called from outside.
"Come in, Bea," Elira answered.
The door opened, and Bea entered with a bright, cheerful smile. At once, the two girls slipped back into their lively chatter, filling the little room with warmth, sunlight, and the simple joy of friendship.