CHAPTER SEVEN — Cracks in the Ice
Helena's days as Prince Kira's private maid had turned into a silent nightmare.
Since the moment he assigned her to serve him, her workload had doubled—sometimes tripled. She woke before sunrise, cleaned until her fingers hurt, then spent hours running errands she barely understood. Servants whispered about her behind her back, calling her unlucky for catching the prince's attention.
"Poor girl."
"She won't last."
"He's the coldest person in the royal family."
But Helena pushed through everything, even though her body was constantly tired. She avoided thinking too deeply about how or why objects sometimes moved when she passed, or why the lamps flickered every time she was overwhelmed. She just brushed it off as palace weirdness. Nothing more.
Prince Kira, on the other hand… was impossible.
He barely spoke, but when he did, his words dug like cold knives.
"Do it again."
"That isn't clean enough."
"You're too slow."
Helena tried not to break, even though the weight of everything felt like a stone pressing on her chest.
One evening, after hours of scrubbing the prince's study, she tried to stand but her vision blurred. She leaned against a shelf for support—and the books trembled. Not a little. They shook as though something reacted to her heartbeat.
Helena instantly stepped back.
"Not again…" she whispered.
But she forced herself to ignore the strange event, grabbed her cleaning cloth, and continued.
The next day, the palace was buzzing—Prince Kira was heading to an important meeting with high council members. The hallways were filled with guards, nobles, and hurried footsteps.
Helena was carrying a tray of documents to the east wing, her mind clouded with exhaustion. She turned a corner—
And collided directly with him.
The tray crashed. Papers flew like snow in the air.
Helena dropped to her knees immediately, scrambling to pick them up.
"I'm so sorry, Your Highness, I—"
Kira's voice cut through the hallway.
"Helena."
She froze at her name. Kira never used it unless he was angry.
Slowly, she looked up.
His eyes were locked on hers.
And something strange happened.
For the first time, Kira wasn't wearing his emotionless mask. There was a flicker of something else—confusion? Recognition? A pull he didn't want to admit?
The air between them felt heavy, warm, and almost familiar.
Kira broke the gaze too quickly.
"You are becoming quite a handful," he said coldly, though his voice wasn't as steady as usual.
"I—I didn't mean to bump into you, Your Highness," Helena whispered, her heart racing.
"Apparently, you go wherever you shouldn't." His tone hardened, trying to hide whatever he felt in that moment. "Since you can't manage simple tasks without causing chaos…"
She held her breath.
"…you will take on additional duties."
Her shoulders dropped. "Your Highness, I—"
"That is final."
Helena bowed her head, trying to hide the sting behind her eyes. She picked up the papers quietly, her trembling fingers brushing against the polished floor.
Kira watched her for a moment longer than he should have.
There was something about her that unsettled him. Something he felt the moment their eyes met. Something warm, almost electric. And he hated that feeling.
He turned sharply and walked away, pretending not to notice how the torches lining the hallway flickered intensely as Helena stood up—reacting to her emotions.
Later that night, Helena finally finished her endless tasks and stepped outside the servant quarters. Her shoulders ached, her heart felt heavy, and she felt more alone than ever.
She leaned against a column, whispering to herself, "Why is he doing this to me…?"
What she didn't know was that Kira stood in his chamber balcony just above her, watching her silhouette under the moonlight.
His jaw tightened.
Why did looking at her make him feel something he couldn't control?
Why did her presence disrupt his calm, frozen world?
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Kira gripped the balcony railing, forcing himself to look away.
"This is nothing," he whispered.
"It has to be."
But even he didn't believe that anymore.
Because with Helena… nothing felt like nothing.
Not anymore.