The king's maid

Lara stood near the window, watching the golden light spill across the stone floor. Everything about the king's chambers felt foreign and grand. She wrapped her arms around herself, still unsure why she had been brought here, let alone in the Lycan King's chambers.

There was a knock, and the door opened. A tall man walked in, wearing fine black clothes. He had the same sharp jaw and piercing eyes as Thornak, but there was a gentleness in him that made her instinctively relax.

He smiled slightly. "Lara, I'm Prince Kael, Thornak's brother."

She bowed politely. "Your Highness," she said softly. "It's an honor to meet you."

"I've come to speak of your placement," he said, voice even and composed. "Your parents and brother have been granted a house within the city walls, modest, but safe. Close enough that you may visit them with ease."

"Truly? My family… they are safe?" she asked, her voice breathless with hope.

He gave a nod, and she let out a breath. Relief bloomed in her expression

"Thank you prince Kael," she said earnestly.

"You are welcome. Your duties are to serve the king himself, as his personal maid. You'll see to his chambers, assist when summoned, and carry out whatever tasks he entrusts to you."

Lara blinked. "T-the king?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Is there a problem." Kael asked.

Her lips parted, but no sound came for a moment. Then...

"I...I thought… I mean, I didn't expect…" She looked down quickly. "That's… an honor."

A soft knock on the door made Lara jump.

A gentle voice followed the knock. "May I come in?"

Before Lara could answer, the door opened and a young woman stepped inside, holding a basket. She had long blonde hair braided over one shoulder and a beautiful smile. She was about her age.

"This is Princess Iris" Kael said. "She is my betrothed."

Lara dipped into a graceful bow, lowering her eyes in deference. "It's an honor to meet you, Princess."

She lifted her gaze just enough to glimpse Iris's soft smile and kind eyes. There was no tension, no judgment in the young royal's face, only quiet curiosity. It put Lara slightly at ease.

"I brought you some things," Iris continued, walking over to the table near the window. "Warm bread, stew. And some proper clothes. My brother thought you might want something more comfortable."

Lara glanced down at the oversized dress she wore it must've been Thornak's. The thought made her cheeks flushed.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I am sorry for the trouble."

Iris turned to her with a grin. "Don't worry. This place might feel like a haunted castle, but not everyone here bites or howls… some of us just complain about the food."

That made Lara laugh, a small, surprised sound that slipped out before she could stop it. Iris' eyes lit up like she'd just won a prize.

"I'm sorry, Princess," Lara said. "I didn't mean to laugh..."

Iris laughed softly. "It's okay," she said with a wink. "Making people laugh is part of my very unofficial duty."

Lara chuckled, but didn't argue.

"Come," Iris said gently. "Eat something first, and I'll have them bring water for your bath. I am sure you must be hungry."

As if on cue, her stomach growled in response, loud enough to make Iris laugh.

....

Iris walked beside Lara through the winding corridors of the palace, her steps light and graceful.

"You'll meet Chamberlain Ysara now," she said gently. "She oversees the inner workings of the royal household, especially those who serve in the king's wing."

Lara nodded with a smile.

They reached the kitchens, where the scent of fresh bread and simmering herbs hung heavy in the warm air. Servants bustled about, heads bowed, hands busy.

A tall woman stood waiting near the far hearth. Her robes were dark.

Iris touched Lara's arm and gave a soft smile. "I'll leave you here. You'll do well. I'll see you soon."

Lara turned to her, voice low but earnest. "Thank you. For everything."

Iris's smile lingered before she disappeared down the corridor like a breeze fading into silence.

The moment the princess was gone, the air shifted.

Servants who had busied themselves with baskets and pots suddenly slowed, their gazes drifting toward Lara. A cluster of younger maids whispered behind cupped hands. Someone muttered something too low to catch, followed by a quiet snicker. One of the older women narrowed her eyes, as though trying to see beneath Lara's skin. The weight of their curiosity pressed against her shoulders, and she straightened her spine despite it.

Chamberlain Ysara stood unmoved by the tension, her expression unreadable. "Come," she said curtly.

She led Lara down the corridor to a wooden door tucked beside the servants' passage. The hinges creaked as she opened it, revealing rows of neatly folded uniforms on carved shelves, sorted by rank and size, everything in perfect order.

"You'll choose from here," Ysara said briskly. "A full set from the top shelf. Change quickly. Your duties begin right away."

Lara's uniform was a deep indigo gown with silver piping along the cuffs and collar, tailored to fit neatly without extravagance. Over it, she wore a pristine white apron embroidered subtly at the hem with the royal crest, and her hair was gathered into a soft cap edged in lace, modest, yes, but unmistakably marked for service to the crown.

She changed quickly, smoothing the apron over her skirt and adjusting the cap on her head. When she stepped out, Chamberlain Ysara was already waiting, her arms folded and eyes sharp with silent appraisal.

Chamberlain Ysara closed the uniform room door with a firm hand and turned to Lara, her tone brisk and clipped, as though reading from a scroll etched into her bones.

"Now, your duties."

Lara stood straighter, resisting the urge to fidget beneath the weight of so many eyes still half-watching from the hallway. One maid in particular paused her scrubbing to glare up at Lara, hatred simmering in her eyes. Her jaw tightened, and the rag in her hand twisted with barely concealed resentment, as if Lara's very presence was an offense.

Lara felt the weight of the maid's stare like a slap, sharp and unexpected. Her heart stumbled, confusion tightening in her chest, she hadn't done anything, yet the woman looked at her as though she were the enemy. A quiet, uneasy heat crept up her neck, but she squared her shoulders and turned to chamberlain Ysara, refusing to let the scorn root itself any deeper.