I dressed in the maid's uniform, the fabric stiff and unfamiliar against my skin. I tied the veil carefully over my face, adjusted the mask beneath it for good measure, and stared at the mirror.
The reflection showed nothing human- just shadows, black fabric, and the glint of my own eyes staring back at me.
I thought about the rules. The veils, the silence, the locked doors. I questioned, silently, why anyone would hide their face behind fabric like this. But the mirror reflected only my resolve.
Someone knocked. Gentle, measured.
"Yes?" I called softly, voice muffled by the layers of fabric.
It was Sivea , the maid from last night- her own veil perfectly in place, hands folded demurely.
"Morning," she said, her tone low, respectful. "The Head requests your presence in the main hall before work begins. You are expected there promptly."
I nodded, adjusting my veil one last time. The mask felt heavier than usual, but also... right.
"Promptly," I murmured to myself, tilting my head at my reflection with a small, private smirk. "Right. Promptly... and fully veiled. Amelia, the unseen."
Outside my window, the first pale light of dawn touched the manor's spires. Shadows stretched long across the stone walls, but I felt no fear - only a quiet determination, and a strange, fluttering curiosity about what awaited me in the hall.
---
I adjusted my veil once more and followed Sivea down the echoing corridor. The morning light was weak, filtered through the high windows, casting long, slanted shadows that stretched like fingers across the stone floors. The manor was already stirring though only in silence. Every step I took seemed to be mirrored by another, unseen.
As we entered the main hall, I froze for just a fraction of a second. The room was already filled with maids, lined in rigid rows, veils perfectly in place. Ilina, Mara, and Tara stood silently, their postures immaculate. Each one radiated quiet discipline, their eyes visible above the fabric, unreadable yet alert.
At the front of the hall stood her the woman, who had opened the door the first day I arrived. The memory of that encounter hit me like a chill. Her presence was suffocating, her aura spreading through the room like a shadow that refused to lift. Even veiled, she exuded something almost tangible, a force that demanded obedience.
She began to speak, her voice low, cutting through the quiet like a blade. Each word carried weight, a command that seemed to root itself in the walls
"Row one - assigned to the kitchens."
"Row two - assigned to the east corridors."
"Row three - assigned to the library."
"Row four - assigned to the gardens."
"Row five - assigned to the service chambers."
I slid silently into my place in the fifth row, heart steady despite the fluttering in my chest. Sivea was beside me, an anchor in the sea of black fabric and veiled faces. The woman's eyes scanned each row meticulously, a predator ensuring that nothing escaped her notice.
After the assignments were finished, we were dismissed. The maids moved with the fluid precision of a well-rehearsed dance. I followed Sivea, blending into the procession, the weight of my veil pressing against my skin like a reminder of the world I had entered.
Even in the quiet obedience of the hall, I felt it, the pull of curiosity, the thrill of anticipation, and the sharp edge of fear. The manor was alive, and I was now part of its rhythm - veiled, unseen, and fully under its shadow.
I was assigned in the fifth row, alongside Sivea, Ilina, Tara, and Mara. The work in the service chambers was monotonous, yet precise - each movement measured, each sound swallowed by the thick silence of the manor
After a few moments, Ilina leaned slightly toward us, breaking the stillness.
"Have you heard?" she murmured. "Another maid... she was struck and scolded by Liora."
My heart skipped. Liora? The little girl? I looked at the others.
All four of them nodded, faces tense.
Sivea's eyes narrowed as she asked, quietly, "What happened?"
Ilina's lips pressed together for a second before she whispered, "She... accidentally shattered one of the delicate crystal goblets during the morning preparations. Liora has no tolerance for mistakes."
We all gasped in unison. "Ahhhh..."
I leaned in closer, my curiosity spiking. "Her full name?"
"Liora Evgeniya Aleksandrovna Vorlachev," Tara breathed, as if the weight of the name alone demanded respect.
I swallowed hard, feeling my curiosity pulling me forward. "And... what about her parents?"
Instantly, all four of them moved, covering my mouth with urgent hands.
Mara whispered, her voice trembling slightly, "Her mother passed away... no one knows exactly why. Her father... he detests her. And her four brothers... they look down on her as well."
My pulse quickened. "Four brothers?"
They all nodded.
"They're extremely powerful," Ilina added, keeping her voice low. "Her father..., he controls the Eastern Syndicate, politics, underground dealings, everything in that district. And each of her brothers holds authority in their own territories. No one dares oppose them."
The word syndicate made my chest tighten. The reach, the influence... this family's power extended far beyond the walls of this manor.
Sivea leaned in, whispering almost reverently. "And... they're strikingly handsome. But their beauty is deceptive. Even her father, at thirty, has the charm of a prince... yet the cruelty of a tyrant. Her brothers also handsome, but lethal, dangerous beyond belief. One wrong move, and even seasoned men would crumble under them."
Sivea hugged herself tightly, trembling slightly, a low shiver running through her as if the words alone could chill her to the bone. "They're... they're terrifying
I nodded slowly, eyes hidden behind my veil, absorbing every whispered detail. The world outside this hall was darker, colder, and far more dangerous than I could have imagined. - and Liora's family stood at its center.
Even as I returned to my tasks, I felt the pull of curiosity growing stronger. I needed to see, to understand... and perhaps, to survive in the shadow of the Vorlachevs.
---
By the time I returned to my room, the corridors had quieted, leaving only the echo of distant footsteps and the faint hum of the lamps. I closed the door behind me and collapsed backward onto the bed, arms tucked behind my head as I stared up at the ceiling.
The shadows above me were still, but my mind wasn't.
The Eastern Syndicate...
The name replayed in my head like a whisper I couldn't shake off. Sivea's tremble, Mara's nervous glance, Ilna's forced quiet, every expression from earlier lingered in me, heavy and unsettling.
I let out a long breath.
"So the girl's father rules an entire syndicate... and her brothers command their own territories?" I muttered under my breath, eyes narrowing at the dark wooden beams above. "That family isn't just wealthy... they're practically kings."
From what the maids described, the father of that girl wasn't merely a leader. He was something far more dangerous, a ruler of influence, someone who controlled politics, trade, information, and fear all at once. His name alone could probably silence a room.
And the brothers...
Each one with their own power base, their own network.
Their reach must've stretched across cities, maybe countries.
I swallowed hard.
And here I was... a woman who once walked the other side of the line.
A woman who had dealt with the shadows, who had run from bullets and betrayal.
A woman who had rejected the criminal world - yet somehow ended up serving the daughter of one of the most feared syndicate rulers?
I let out a bitter laugh and covered my eyes with my forearm.
"What kind of twisted joke is this...?" I whispered.
The irony hit me hard.
Back home, my old world - I fought to survive against organizations just like this.
I opposed them.
I hunted them.
I ruined their operations when I had to.
And now...?
Now I was changing linens and scrubbing floors in the household of the very type of man I once stood against.
I exhaled deeply and shifted my gaze toward the dim lantern on the wall.
Still... something didn't fit.
Why was a man as powerful as the Vorlachev patriarch letting his youngest daughter grow up here, hidden behind veils and rituals instead of glittering halls and political advisors?
Why did he despise her?
Why did her brothers keep their distance?
And what exactly had happened to her mother?
The questions stacked inside my chest, heavy and relentless.
This place is more complicated than I thought...
I wasn't sure if I should be scared.
Curious.
Or both.
My fingers curled slightly on my stomach as I stared into the quiet dimness.
"All right, Amelia..." I murmured to myself, voice barely audible. "You wanted a way to survive. You wanted a chance to start over. But you walked straight into the territory of a syndicate giant without knowing it."
I sighed, closing my eyes.
"...Great choice."
Yet despite the unease stirring through me, something else flickered in my chest something sharp, dangerous, and undeniably familiar.
Interest.
A pull toward the unknown.
Toward the storm brewing inside the Vorlachev family.
And maybe... toward the power they hid behind their cold, silent walls.
--
Sunlight slid across my face, warm and sharp.
My eyes snapped open.
Formation.
I shot up from the bed instantly. My body moved before my mind could fully wake - mask, veil, routine - all practiced motions I'd forced myself to memorize in a single night.
But I stopped.
A sting.
A soft, nagging ache at the side of my cheek.
The bee bite.
I turned slowly toward the mirror. My fingers lifted the veil... then removed the mask.
A woman stared back at me.
Not the shadow I'd become in the manor halls, but a face that didn't belong in this world - soft, sharp, strangely beautiful. My hair fell loosely, my skin pale from last night's cold, the bee bite only making me appear more alive.
"...That's me?" I whispered.
My fingers traced my cheek gently, following the curve of my jaw. For a second - just a second - I admired the stranger in the glass.
Then reality snapped back.
Formation.
"Sh*t"
I grabbed the veil, pulled the mask over my face, tied the fabric as fast as possible, and flung the door open.
My footsteps thundered through the corridor. I ran, veil fluttering behind me.
I slid into the formation line just as the woman arrived.
I exhaled hard with quiet relief.
Her heels struck the marble like a threat. Without warning, she slammed the wall panel with her palm - the sound cracked through the hall.
Her head tilted sharply to the right, eyes slicing toward one of the maids behind me.
"You," she said coldly. "Fix the storeroom. I don't want to hear any excuses from your mouth."
"Y-Yes, Ma'am!" the girl squeaked and rushed off.
The woman turned to the rest of us.
"I am Natalya Sergeyevna, Overseer of Household Discipline," she said.
Not the Head - but the one who controlled the staff. The spine of the manor.
Her voice lowered, carrying a warning.
"The Head received a message late last night. We discussed the preparations required. The manor will be much busier in the following days."
A few maids stiffened at that.
Natalya continued, arms folded behind her back.
"Tomorrow, I will choose who goes outside to procure supplies. There will be an upcoming visit." Her expression soured slightly. "A friend of Lady Liora."
My eyes blinked behind the veil.
Liora... has friends?
Evil attracts evil, maybe. Or monsters only keep company with monsters.
Natalya snapped her fingers.
"Now- move!"
We scattered instantly, rushing into our designated tasks.
But my mind stayed on that single thought.
A friend of Liora...? Another one like her?
How many monsters does this manor hide?