The maid walked past the servants' hallways and reached a red door. She knocked on it thrice in a sequence. The door creaked opened, and she sneaked in.
"The king killed our accomplices. We need to inform our lord," she whispered to a lady standing next to the mantle. Her slender silhouette of her back and her auburn hair glowed red from the fire.
"Send him a message about our situation," the lady slowly whispered. She carefully opened a kerchief full of blond curly hair. Caressing it, "He was meant to be mine," she mumbled and tossed it into the fire. The hair strands crackled as it burnt into ashes. "I will make him mine," the auburn-haired woman clenched her fists.
"Miss, should I add, exclude the information about the prince this time as well," the maid hesitantly said.
"Write everything we know about the prince. I want the prince dead," the lady cracked her neck.
