Feelings of a Maid

As days went by and everyone busied themselves with their own tasks, one woman, in particular, was finally recovering fully after a long period of forced rest.

Viviane, fresh from her morning bath, sat before her vanity. With slow, deliberate motions, she began brushing her light blue hair, each strand catching the gentle light of the room. Her eyes, however, betrayed a storm of emotions.

Part of her was drowning in disappointment, a corrosive guilt tightening around her chest. She felt like a complete failure, someone who had no right to be there after that traumatic event. Every sigh that escaped her lips seemed to carry the weight of her doubts.

A cruel voice in her mind urged her to give up, to settle for being a mere shadow, a submissive follower who obeyed without question—or worse, to disappear entirely. Yet there was another side to her, shy and ashamed, clinging to the memory of something that kept her moving forward: her master's anger.