I followed the two maids without resisting, but the maids assigned to accompany me seemed eager for a fight. They would push me now and then as we made our way to the kitchen, and once we arrived, they turned my life into a living hell.
One of them opened the door and forcefully pushed me inside, causing me to almost stumble to the ground. I didn't say anything; I knew better than to confront these people.
"Ma'am Rita, the princess is here," one of them said, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in her tone.
A woman in her mid-forties turned to us, her chocolate eyes meeting mine as her lips curled into a sly smile.
"Oh... my lady," she said, her gaze shifting to the pile of dirty plates in the corner. "You'll start with that," she added.
"No," I shook my head in disagreement. Ivan had told them to give me some work, not turn me into a slave.
