"I believe it's well over noon by now…" Raymond said, stepping out fully, letting the door click shut behind him.
I blinked at him. "Is it?.. My apologies."
"You're just waking up, aren't you?" He asked with a smirk.
My slippers shuffled softly against the polished floor. "…Yes," I said, laughing awkwardly. More for him than real. "I had… a moment."
Raymond tilted his head, as if deciding whether I was a threat—or just an inconvenient piece of furniture. His expression was perfectly polite, polished even, and I very much did not want him looking at me at all.
{Is he staring at my hair? It can't be that bad… can it?}
He stepped forward, hands loosely at his back. The epitome of noble nonchalance. I matched him with a slow blink, letting my face remain calm while my mind calculated the quickest way to end the conversation before it began.
He smiled. "Your eyes are still so beautiful, I wanted to say that yesterday as well, but you also… had a moment."
I felt my eyes shimmer, my face warms up. The fuck—?
"Thank you?" I said, stepping back.
{I'm not blushing, am I?. No, no... calm down, calm down, nobles are stupid to a fault. I'll just blame the sun.}
"Do you feel hot as well?" I flapped a pretentious hand over my face. I might as well be airing out my senses.
He held out a hand on my forehead. "The Dowager checks my temperature this way,"
"I've never been sick, your Highness. So that can't be it. Perhaps it's the—"
Suddenly, he cups my face in his hands and leans closer. My heart caught. Our eyes locked. For a second neither of us blinked. "There's a first time for everything right?" His lips twitched, I couldn't tell if it was annoyance or smugness. I was annoyed either way.
{What's with this sudden behavior? Are you sure I'm the sick one?}
Raymond's eyes scanned my face, then returned to my eyes. "You've been avoiding me. Why?"
I tilted my head, calmly assessing him. Apart from not wanting to die because of him, he was also the young Prince, living under my roof—a scandal waiting to happen.
I tugged lightly at the loose folds of my dress. "It's just as you said, Your Highness. I had a moment of inconvenience, I have no reason to avoid you."
He didn't flinch. Naturally. I continued anyway. "Now, if you'd simply release me, I'll be on my way."
He raised a brow. "Thought you weren't avoiding me?"
"And I'm not," I said, tugging on his hands to free myself. He didn't budge.
"Ahem…"
That didn't come from one of us. I exhaled. We both turned. And at the end of the hallway, Lauren and Cael stood waiting. I gave up on subtlety. "Well, I tried," I muttered, under my breath.
Raymond finally let go, stepping back a few steps. I moved past him toward Lauren, she held a covered tray—her face was flushed red. "Lauren, just in time. Is that for me?" Then I mouthed, silently, "Shut your face right now."
She smiled instead.
{You're blushing too, stupid.}
I paused, touched my face, still warm.
"Lady Iris, I'd like a word. If you don't have any… pending matters." Cael's tone snapped me back to reality.
"Of course. I'm free." I turned to Raymond, then courtesied lightly. "I should get going," I said airily. "Lots of responsibilities. I'm sure you understand."
His posture stayed relaxed.
I stepped down the corridor, slipping past Lauren and Cael.
{Okay, we gotta do a better job next time.}
Raymond spoke again, voice low, controlled. "Have tea with me later?"
I didn't stop. "I don't think I'll be having tea today. Another time." I walked just fast enough to not be rushed, and descended towards the stairs.
Without her menacing presence, the corridor felt ridiculously large and empty.
"She's definitely avoiding me." Raymond muttered, pushing the guest room door wider. "She's gone now, come out."
"Do you think she noticed?" Ryder stepped out from behind the doorway, scanning the hallway once.
"No, but do you think I was too straightforward?" Raymond asked.
"Unfortunately," Ryder said, flatly, "that's not something you can help."
"Say that again," Raymond dared.
"How many times would you like to hear it?" Ryder replied, completely unfazed.
.><><><.
I entered my study, footsteps light. Lauren followed after me, setting a tray neatly in the center of the room. I spared it a glance and ignored it. Cael entered last, closing the door behind. His expression composed as usual, hands clasped behind his back.
"Lady Iris," he said, voice flat. "Mister Wick has resigned."
I paused mid-step. "Resigned?"
"More accurately, Madam Rosie cornered him, and he saw reason."
I arched a brow "what has Rosie got to do with Wick?"
Cael shrugs, "That, I do not know as she refused to speak with me.
I sighed. "Did he conclud with his work before leaving?" Walking to the couch.
"In terms of your... toilet and tub installations, yes. But the pipes in the walls still remain open. He said, in his words, 'It'll hold… but nothing's flowing yet. No water in, no water out. Nothing's hooked up.'"
"So... the important stuff are in place, but the connections for incoming and outgoing water are unfinished." I said, flipping open the tray on the table. There was warm broth porridge, torn—milk bread, and a cup of steamy-warm tea, it had a minty smell with the faintest whiff of citrus.
Cael inclined his head. "Yes exactly. He said the money wasn't worth the insults he was getting. From Madam Rosie… I'm guessing."
I smiled at the food first, hands already reaching out for the bread. "The money wasn't worth it?. His loss. He could've been part of an unprecedented discovery… with wages." I scoffed, tasting the broth-and been paid for it, I suppose not everyone can be helped."
Lauren pressed her lips together.
Cael stood silent, straight. Irritating
I exhaled, "Can you both sit down, I'm trying to actually enjoy the meal." I didn't look up.
Cael obeyed quietly. Still observing.
I tilted my head, noting the faint smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.
{What an idiot. Well on the plus side it'll be yet another cash-in discovery.}
Just thinking of the cold, hard bars I'd be making soon because of his hard work almost made me grin outright—I could feel my selfish lips curl at one side.
"Actually, my lady," Lauren interrupted, voice careful. "I have errands outside the estate today… the 'threads'." She added the last word with a suspicious lift of her brow.
"Very well," I said, waving a hand, returning to my food. "I won't be needing you for the rest of the day anyway."
Lauren curtsied, "Thank you." She said and then left.
The door clicked shut behind her.
"So," Cael said evenly, "what are we going to do now?, about your paused operations."
"humm...," I mumbled, scooping another mouthful of rich, meaty broth. Warm and comforting. Heaven.
"Or we can move on to the more important things…" he added, pausing as if calculating my reaction.
I chewed slowly, deliberately.
"It's the only a matter of time before the Vessels reveal their fortified fonts, while your house is practically bleeding coin… but here you are, enjoying broth and bread." He said, voice leveled, eyes steady on me.
I swallowed hard, lifting the warm tea to my lips, letting the faint sting of citrus slap my inner cheeks. "Not true," I countered, voice airy. "I'm also enjoying tea with it. Look Vermin, If you're beginning to see no sense in the your obsession of me, you're free to leave anytime."
"I never said that..." He sighed, relaxing back against the couch, hands resting lightly, exuding patience and control. "The 'threads' your maid mentioned just now… I'm guessing they aren't actual threads?." He added.
{I knew he'd catch that. Lauren such a terrible liar.}
"They're not threads at all," I said, voice low and measured. "But I don't feel like explaining them either."
"That's fine by me," he replied, tilting back further, like the room belonged to him as much as me. "I can be very patient."
I side eye him, spoon paused mid-air, then scoffs.
{Whatever boy, I'm in a good mood now that I know I don't have to share discovery credits with that plumber.}
.><><><.
Every morning I remind myself that Lady Iris is my employer, not my responsibility—and every morning she proves me wrong. Any other lady would take what was offered. She does the opposite. She's clever and beautiful, and already catching the attention of two young lords—one of which is the future Emperor. And she ignores them both. Unbelievable.
"It's a little frustrating how stupid she seems at times." I sigh quietly taking of my maid uniform.
I hated changing into commoner clothes. Not because I disliked them. The tailored ones were comfortable—linen, worn soft at the edges, the shoes didn't pinch. But the moment I take off my maid uniform, I felt like I had shed some invisible permission and control, some invisible authority. Suddenly, I was just... anyone.
I folded the uniform carefully and pulled on the brown dress instead. Plain, modest and ordinary. I did my hair into two tight braid. No loose strands. Not screaming for attention.
"You look so sad." Gwendolyn, my roommate—another maid, said from the old vanity by her bed. She was older than me and obsessed with make-up.
"I look normal, as maids should." I replied calmly.
"Okay cutie, but do know that with that mindset, you might die a maid." She scoffed.
I shut her a look, glaring. "Why are you always trying my nerves?" I ask my teeth together.
She didn't answer at first, setting down her brush. Then she straightened, grinning. "That's easy enough… it's because you have the cutest upset face ever!" She flailed her hands at me, and I dodged, stepping aside so she collided with my bed.
"Not this again, Dolyn," I said, walking past her.
"You better come back with good sweets this time!" she called after me.
"Yes, yes. Berries and jerries," I replied, closing the door behind me.
—
Walking towards the inner gates, it was louder than usual. Guards were everywhere. Sir Carl's orders to reinforce security was still fresh, and it showed.
"Heading out?" one of them asked as I approached, already opening the ledger.
"Yes. Errands for Miss Iris—." I began.
"Where to?" He cuts in. Sharp.
That caught me off guard.
"Uria." I said
The quill paused. I felt it more than I saw it.
"What kind of errands?"
My mind went blank. I could feel my face warming. "Just ... personal necessities."
{Please don't ask for the specifics.} I prayed silently.
I knew they'd be questions, but I had nothing in mind particularly.
"We'll assign you an escort," he said, turning slightly.
"No!—" I said too fast again,
He gave me a long look, suspicious. My heart was rising. "I won't take long. A guard would only slow me down." I tried to laugh, but it came out strained. I couldn't find my voice.
That earned me another look. This time with weight. I was finished.
Then a voice cut in, easy and amused. "You lot are scaring the little darling,"
I stiffened.
The young general lounged by the gate, legs crossed, grining wide. "Relax. Lauren's harmless. I've known her since she tried to eat mud and swore it was pudding."
My jaw clenched. It was this idiot, Eric Flynn. I'd been hoping to slip past him unnoticed.
"If she was up to anything scandalous she'd be sweating bullets by now." Eric continued.
The guards exchanged glances. One sighed and waved me off.
"Sign out. Be back before dusk." The one with the ledger prompted.
Relief hit me so hard my legs almost wobbled. "Thank you." I tried to sign quickly, but Eric walked up to me. Leaned in and whispered.
"I'm sorry for them, The Steward's really on edge about security now because of the prince. Hope you understand." He winked.
"I—yes. I understand," I murmured, stepping back. "I need to hurry." I rushed past him before anyone could change their mind.
"How's your sister these days?" Eric called after me.
I didn't answer, hoping my ears weren't as red as they felt.
—
Walking the streets of the estate was always calm and quiet, it was the part I enjoy about leaving the estate. I tugged my braid lightly as I walked, careful to keep my dress from brushing the dusted cobblestones. The guards at the gate were still eyeing me, but at least they weren't following—
{Really? All this fuss over a fifteen-year-old maid, just running errands? I'll never understand noble rules.}
Two minutes of walking took me to the edge of Uria, the closest district to the estate. Small houses leaned into each other along narrow streets, shutters half-open, children chasing stray cats or each other. The smell of smoke rising from afar. It was noiser than last time—too many kids around. Was the parish hall closed?
I walked slow but paced, hands clasping the satchel neatly in front of me, avoiding unnecessary attention. I had no illusions about standing out.
I was a commoner, not a noble. Wanting anything more than that only caused trouble.
When I reached the main road leading to the marketplace, I spotted a wagon waiting, pulled by a chestnut horse. The driver, a bright young man with an easy smile that put me on edge, nodded to me as I approached. "Hey little girl, are you alone?" I hesitated, wondering briefly if I should just hail a different ride—but no, I knew the route.
"Yes, but I'm meeting with my Mother at the market." I squeezed the satchel straps, no one needed to know where I was headed.
He seemed to notice my dismay. "Alright, I'm headed that way."
Another lady approached, "Are you passing by the bakery by chance?"
The market bank wasn't far, and there was no bakery on the way, so it had to be further down since there's no meet-road.
"Yes ma'am, but it's further than I go so that'll be 5rins." He said with a smile.
"So expensive, that fine," the lady said climbing on board, I climbed after her.
My feet tapped the whole way there. The wagon stopped me off near the marketplace. I gave the driver his pay and stepped down, smoothing my dress out of habit.
"Thank you." I said.
"You're welcome. Now, be careful out there." He said before lashing the horse's reins.
I turned on my way, my destination was beyond the market.
The bank sat exactly where it always did—wedged between a stationary store that always smelled infected and a tailor shop that was never open. The window paint was peeling, the sign still slightly crooked.
I hated the place. Everyone did honestly. Only lowly commoners used it. and I'm sure even they preferred newer banks with brighter doors and cleaner floors.
This was Lady Iris's pick, even though I protested many times. She liked this one.
"I'm sure she'd change her mind if she saw it herself," I breathed, and stepped in.
The bell above the door chimed when I stepped inside. The old clerk looked up from his desk, squinted once, then relaxed.
"Lauren, good morning," he said, already reaching beneath the counter.
"It's already noon, Jeffrey," I replied.
He slid a thin bundle of papers across the counter, bound neatly with twine. I checked the seal first, like I always did. It was intact. Clean.
"I almost thought you weren't coming this month," he added, in his usual friendly tone.
I nodded. "Thank you."
That was it. He was a nice old man, but I didn't need to linger. I had to get some believable personal neccessities first—but what?
{If only I could ask her directly...}
"Argh..."
I tucked the bundle carefully and tightly beneath my arm and turned to leave. Whatever its contents were weren't meant for my eyes anyway.
Outside, the marketplace bustled noisy ahead of me again. I didn't slow until I was a street away. Only then did I let out the breath I'd been holding—because the area always unnerved me, my nerves were always knacking because this routine was fragile. Lady Iris said to make sure I'm unmemorable, any crack and people would starte noticing things.
And I didn't do well under the spotlight.