LIVING WITH HELL WITH THE PRINCE

Chapter 3

 Living In Hell With The Prince

The hallways of the royal palace stretched endlessly, their polished marble floors gleaming under the soft glow of golden chandeliers. The air carried a faint scent of lavender, and the silence was broken only by the clicking of Sofia's sharp heels as she led the way. Behind her, Mai followed nervously, with Clara and Bella, the two other maids, flanking her on either side.

Sofia glanced back briefly, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "Over here," she began, her voice echoing faintly, "we have the royal portrait of the mighty Prince himself." She gestured dramatically toward a massive painting hanging on the wall.

Mai's gaze was dawn imposing canvas. Prince Lilian's eyes, rendered chilling details, seemed to pierces through her, a predator assessing it's prey. The cruel twist of his lips in the portrait spoke volumes about man's temperature. He seated on a majestic velvet throne, his cold, piercing gaze seeming to follow her every move. The smirk on his face hinted at a personality both commanding and unyielding.

"He looks… intimidating," Mai murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Oh, he is," Sofia replied with a smirk. "That portrait doesn't even capture half of his temper. But don't worry, you'll get used to it. Eventually."

As they walked further, Sofia pointed to the walls adorned with elaborate carvings and golden accents. "And those flower bouquets you see outside every chamber? They're replaced every morning—an old royal tradition to symbolize life and beauty in the palace." Her tone was casual, but Mai could sense the underlying pride in her words.

Door after door passed by until Sofia came to a stop before a grand entrance. The door was tall and imposing, its golden knobs gleaming like miniature suns. Turning to Mai, Sofia handed her a small key. "Here we are—your royal quarters. The King himself arranged this for you. It's right opposite the Prince's chambers to make your duties… easier." Her last word dripped with subtle irony.

Mai stared at the door, her hands trembling as she took the key. "This… this is all for me?" she whispered, her voice a mixture of disbelief and awe.

Sofia rolled her eyes, though not unkindly. "Yes, and I suggest you don't take all day admiring the door. The Prince won't be happy if you're late tomorrow."

With shaking hands, Mai pushed the key into the lock and turned it. The door opened with a soft creak, revealing a room that took her breath away.

The space before her was nothing short of magnificent. The walls were painted in soft pink, accented with golden designs that glimmered in the light of a crystal chandelier. A plush pink rug covered the marble floor, matching the delicate pink curtains that framed a grand window overlooking the palace gardens. Every piece of furniture looked as though it had been crafted by the finest artisans—an elegant writing desk by the window, a gilded wardrobe with golden knobs, and a vanity table with a mirror that seemed to sparkle.

The centerpiece of the room was a royal bed, draped in silk sheets and adorned with pillows embroidered with golden threads. It was a masterpiece of luxury, fit for a queen, let alone a simple girl like Mai.

Mai stepped inside hesitantly, her legs trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes as she took it all in. Despite her efforts to hold them back, they streamed freely down her cheeks.

"All this," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling, "just for me? Just an ordinary tutor?"

Her shoes, which had pinched her feet all day, felt unbearable now. She slipped them off, sighing as her aching feet sank into the softness of the rug.

Sofia, noticing her tears, placed a firm but gentle hand on Mai's shoulder. "Please don't cry," she said, her voice softening. "It would be a great displeasure to see you like this. As far as I'm concerned, crying isn't allowed in the royal palace."

The other maids exchanged confused glances. Clara, the one on Mai's left, couldn't help but think to herself, How could someone cry after seeing such a glorious room?

Sofia, ever composed, gestured for Mai to follow her. "Come now, let me show you around your new quarters," she said, taking Mai's hand.

She led her toward the grand bed. "Here we have your royal bed," Sofia explained, her tone laced with pride.

Mai sat down hesitantly, her movements delicate as if she feared ruining it. The moment she did, the softness of the mattress seemed to envelop her entirely, pulling her into its luxurious embrace. Shocked by the sensation, Mai sprang up immediately, her cheeks flushed.

"I've never…" she stammered, her words trailing off. "I've never sat on anything this soft before."

Sofia chuckled lightly. "You'd better get used to it. This is the royal palace, after all."

She turned and pointed toward another door in the corner of the room. "And over there is your closet. Come, let's take a look."

Sofia led Mai toward a door in the corner of the room. The polished golden handle under the chandelier's light, and as Sofia opened the door, Mai's jaw dropped. Before her stood a grand magnificent closet, a true marvel of craftsmanship and ingenuity.

The closet was a towering wooden structure, carved from rich mahogany and adorned with intricate floral engravings. Its double doors opened to reveal an array of shelves, drawers, and hanging spaces, each meticulously organized. A full-length mirror was embedded into one side of the closet door, framed with delicate gold detailing. The closet was not merely a storage space—it was a work of art and function combined.

Inside, the closet had a pulley system, with ropes and levers designed to bring high shelves and hanging rails down to an accessible level. Small brass knobs and handles dotted the interior, giving the closet an air of mechanical sophistication.

Sofia stepped inside confidently, motioning for Mai to follow. "This is your royal closet," she said, her voice echoing slightly in the spacious chamber. "It was designed for both elegance and convenience. Every lever, every rope, serves a purpose."

Mai hesitated at the threshold, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had never seen anything so complex in her life. The ropes and pulleys intimidated her, and she was too ashamed to admit that she didn't know how to use them.

"Go ahead," Sofia said, her tone casual. "Try it out."

Mai swallowed hard and took a step closer, her fingers brushing against one of the ropes. She froze, unsure of what to do next. Her confusion must have been written all over her face, as Sofia let out a soft laugh.

"You've never used one of these before, have you?" Sofia asked, tilting her head.

Mai's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "N-no," she stammered, lowering her gaze. "I'm sorry…"

"There's no need to apologize," Sofia said warmly. "Here, let me show you." She reached for one of the ropes and gave it a firm pull.

The pulley system came to life with a gentle hum, and a hanging rail filled with gowns descended gracefully from the upper section of the closet. The gowns were breathtaking—silk, satin, and velvet fabrics in every imaginable color, adorned with lace, pearls, and golden embroidery.

"These are yours," Sofia said, gesturing to the gowns. "Handpicked for you by the King's personal tailor. Each piece is fit for a royal gathering."

Mai stared in awe, her fingers trembling as she reached out to touch the fabric of one gown. It was smooth and luxurious, unlike anything she had ever owned.

"And down here," Sofia continued, pointing to a series of small compartments at the bottom of the closet, "are your shoes."

Mai crouched down and gasped. Rows upon rows of shoes were neatly arranged, each pair more exquisite than the last. There were heeled slippers, embroidered sandals, and delicate boots in every color and design.

"All these… for me?" Mai whispered, her voice shaking.

"Yes, all for you," Sofia replied. "You may be a tutor, but here in the palace, you're treated with the respect and luxury your position deserves."

Mai bit her lip, struggling to hold back tears. She had never experienced such generosity and grandeur before. It felt overwhelming, like stepping into a dream she hadn't dared to dream.

Sofia placed a hand on her shoulder, her expression softening. "You don't have to feel out of place, Mai," she said gently. "You'll get used to it. Now, come—there's more to see."

She led Mai out of the closet and back into the main room, where the bed awaited like a beacon of comfort. "I'll leave you to settle in," Sofia said. "You've had a long day, and tomorrow will be even more demanding." "if there's anything you'd need feel free to ask or better still you could call for me" Sofia said

Mai nodded, still too stunned to speak. As Sofia and the other maids left the room, Mai sat down on the edge of the bed, staring around her in disbelief. She was no longer just a commoner—she was part of something far grander than she had ever imagine.

The luxurious silence of Mai's new quarters was short-lived. Just as she let out a sigh, trying to process her overwhelming new reality, the heavy door to her chamber swung open with a loud:

**BANG**

Startled, Mai jumped to her feet, her heartbeat racing. Her eyes darted toward the entrance, only to see none other than Prince Lilian himself, standing there with a look of utmost arrogance, arms crossed over his chest.

She let out a breath of relief before narrowing her eyes at him. "There's something called knocking, you know," she said, folding her arms.

Prince Lilian raised a brow, his lips twitching into a smirk. "And why would royalty like me lower myself to knocking for a mere servant?" His voice dripped with disdain.

Mai clenched her fists, already irritated by his presence. But before she could retort, he continued, stepping further into the room with slow, deliberate steps. "I see you've settled in well. But let's not forget—you are not here for luxury. You are here to serve me."

Mai stiffened at his words. She had expected resistance from him, but the condescension in his tone made her blood boil.

"Since you seem so eager to prove yourself," Lilian went on, tilting his head mockingly, "I have a few tasks for you."

Mai's stomach dropped. She had a bad feeling about this.

"First," he began, his voice laced with amusement, "I want the entire royal library dusted and reorganized. Every book, every shelf. And don't even think about skipping a single one."

Mai's eyes widened. "The entire library? That place is huge!"

He ignored her protest and continued. "Second, the royal stables need a thorough cleaning. You'll scrub the floors, feed the horses, and polish every piece of riding equipment."

Mai gasped. "The stables? But that's—"

"Third," he went on, his smirk widening, "my wardrobe needs to be sorted by color, season, and material. Every garment ironed and placed perfectly, without a single crease."

Mai threw her hands up. "That's ridiculous! That wardrobe is the size of a house!"

"Oh, I'm not finished," he drawled, enjoying her frustration. "Fourth, the courtyard's fountain is long overdue for a scrub. Since you seem so eager to work, you'll be cleaning it… by hand."

Mai gaped at him. "You—you can't be serious!"

"And lastly," he said, stepping closer, his smirk now a full-blown grin, "I would like a cup of tea. A well-prepared one, fitting for my royal tastes."

Mai felt her knees buckle. "You're joking."

Prince Lilian gave an exaggerated shrug. "Oh, but I am not. And by the way, you came here to serve *me.* You're just a servant. If I say bark, you bark. If I say sit, you sit. You are at my beck and call now."

Mai's jaw clenched. That was the final straw.

"You listen here, Your Highness." Her voice was sharp, her eyes blazing with fury. "I am *not* your servant. I am your tutor. I am here to teach you how to be a proper prince, not to scrub your floors or polish your chandeliers!"

Prince Lilian blinked, taken aback for a split second. No one had *ever* spoken to him like that.

"I don't care how royal you think you are," Mai continued, stepping closer, her frustration pouring out. "You can push me, insult me, and try to make my life miserable, but I will not be reduced to a mere maid. If you think I'm going to roll over and obey your every whim, you have another thing coming!"

Their eyes locked, tension crackling in the air. His smirk had faded. For the first time, Prince Lilian saw something unexpected—a spark of defiance, a side of her that refused to be broken.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

Mai didn't give him a chance to recover. She stormed past him, her heart pounding with rage. If he wanted to make her life miserable, she would show him she wasn't that easy to break.

---

The tasks were beyond exhausting. The royal library alone took half a day, with Mai climbing high ladders, dusting ancient tomes, and struggling to keep up with the never-ending shelves. Every time she thought she was making progress, Prince Lilian would conveniently 'inspect' her work, pulling books out of place and declaring her effort 'pathetic.'

The stables were even worse. The scent of hay mixed with the pungent smell of horses nearly made her dizzy. She scrubbed and scrubbed, her arms aching, only for Lilian to walk in, kick over a bucket of water, and scoff. "Still filthy. Start again."

By the time she reached the wardrobe, she was beyond exhaustion. She painstakingly ironed each item, arranged them meticulously, only for him to sweep his hand through the shelves and scatter everything. "Incompetent," he muttered, shaking his head.

The fountain scrubbing left her drenched and shivering, her fingers raw from scrubbing the stone. The chandeliers were impossible. She climbed dangerously high ladders, reaching for each delicate crystal, only for Lilian to clap his hands and make a show of 'spotting' invisible smudges. "You can't even clean properly," he taunted.

Then came the tea.

Exhausted beyond belief, Mai fumbled through the tea-making process, barely able to keep her hands steady. She poured the tea into a delicate cup and placed it before him.

Lilian took a sip and immediately frowned. "It's over-hot. Tasteless. Not made well."

Mai's patience snapped. She grabbed the small cloth-covered kettle and walked up to him, her eyes blazing. "First, you ask me to reorganize the entire library. Second, you make me clean the filthy stables. Third, you—" she paused, listing each task with barely concealed fury. "Now I've made a perfectly fine tea for you, and you have the audacity to call it tasteless?"

She slammed the kettle onto his chest. "You're so ungrateful and proud, you *so-called Prince*. Your not even worthy of this tea. Perhaps you should make your own tea by yourself."

Then, without another word, she turned and stormed past him.

Prince Lilian sat frozen, staring at the tea in shock. His taste buds tingled, recognizing something familiar. The flavor—it was the exact same as the tea his mother used to make for him every afternoon. No one, not even the palace maids, had ever been able to replicate it.

Yet, Mai had.

His hands trembled slightly as he looked at the tea, his mind racing. How could she have known? Who *was*this girl?

And why, for the first time in his life, did he feel *rattled*?