Ingrid's serene smile remained as she enveloped Roxanna in her arms, being carried gracefully toward the Lily Palace gates. Years spent surrounded by women had made her at ease in Dame Roxanna's presence.
"Dame Roxanna, you possess remarkable strength," Ingrid praised.
"Thank you, Your Highness. I envy your delicate skin. My work doesn't allow for such luxuries," Roxanna responded courteously.
Ingrid's smile widened. "It's rare to hear someone envy something about me," she said softly.
Roxanna was part of the investigation team dealing with the recent intrusion in Lily Palace and was well-informed about the challenges faced by the princess.
She wanted to offer words of comfort to the princess, aware of her struggles, but she couldn't overstep her boundaries. She was, after all, a knight of the empire that hold the princess captive.
"Your Highness, do you enjoy reading?" Roxanna asked, hoping to shift the conversation.
"I do, but our choices are restricted to books approved by the caretaker," Ingrid explained. "So, I've mainly delved into educational books... history and accounting, for example."
Roxanna chuckled. "I used to dread those subjects when my mother insisted I read them."
Ingrid laughed softly. "I had similar experiences," she admitted. "My mother would lock me in my room until I memorized the entire book."
"Your mother locked you in?" Roxanna inquired, raising her brows.
"Yes, it proved to be effective," Ingrid replied nonchalantly. "But why the curiosity, Dame?"
Roxanna was momentarily lost in her thoughts. "Oh, I have a few romance novels you might enjoy," she blurted out. "Although, I guess the caretaker will not allow me to bring them here."
"You have romance novels?" Ingrid asked, intrigued.
Roxanna nodded. "They're a small indulgence I allow myself when I receive my pay," she confessed.
Ingrid raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "You're allowed to read such books?"
Roxanna's brow furrowed, her tone laced with amusement. "Of course," she affirmed. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Ingrid hesitated, her words tinged with uncertainty. "Aren't they... rather inappropriate? Oh, I don't mean to judge you. I'm just genuinely curious."
Roxanna offered a reassuring smile. "No, not at all. Instead, they can set your heart aflutter."
"Heart flutter..." Ingrid echoed the phrase, musing on it.
Just then, a group of servants approached them. "Princess, you've returned," they greeted with warm smiles.
Roxanna couldn't help but notice Ingrid's subtle tension at their presence.
"Please, guide us to my chambers," Ingrid requested.
The servants nodded and led the way.
Roxanna leaned in slightly and whispered, her gaze icy as she observed the maids. "Your Highness, are they not treating you well?"
"They... treat me fine," she replied.
Roxanna relaxed. "I apologize for stepping by bounds. I thought you were unhappy to see them," she said.
Ingrid turned her gaze to the maids in front. "I was not... unhappy," she murmured.
Roxanna refrained from probing further and ushered Ingrid into her room. Carefully, she settled Ingrid onto the plush bed, ensuring her feet didn't brush against anything.
"Thank you for bringing me back, Dame Roxanna," Ingrid said, her smile as tender as a caress.
"You needn't express gratitude, Your Highness."
With a nod, Roxanna departed, leaving behind only Christine, the maid with long braided hair. Ingrid hadn't encountered her within the palace before.
"Greetings, Your Highness. I regret not introducing myself earlier. I am Christine, your new maid," she said with a respectful tone.
Ingrid returned the gesture with a warm smile. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Christine," she replied.
"Your Highness, have you had your lunch? Is there a specific dish you desire?" Christine inquired, her eyes filled with concern.
Ingrid's gaze fell to the floor beneath her. "Just the usual," she murmured.
As Christine's footsteps faded away, Ingrid's fingers clenched tightly over her chest.
Each beat of her heart resonated through her body, sending tremors into her very bones. Her eyes, wide with alarm, darted around the room, absorbing the details in a frenzied attempt to ground herself.
The ornate boxes adorned with delicate motifs, the rich, velvety curtains that billowed in the breeze, the soft expanse of the bed beneath her trembling fingertips—it all mirrored the vivid scenes from her dream the previous night.
"What was that?" Ingrid's voice quivered, a fragile thread of sound in the air.
The room seemed to echo her confusion, the silence punctuated only by the hushed rustle of fabric and the occasional creak of the furniture.
Ingrid's breath caught in her throat as she recalled the uncanny familiarity of her dream: the number of maids waiting at the entrance, Roxanna's questions inside the palace, and the scenery.
"Even Christine," she murmured, her words barely audible. "How did I know her name in my dream?"
Ingrid inhaled deeply.
"It's okay," she whispered. "It's just a coincidence."
But before she could fully embrace this fragile reassurance, a sharp knock reverberated through the door.
"Your Highness, we have brought your food," came a voice from the other side of the door.
"We?" Ingrid questioned, her voice barely audible, a whisper lost in the grandeur of the room.
The door creaked open, revealing a procession of maids, five in all, each carrying a tray laden with an assortment of delectable dishes. Their eyes met hers, and their lips curled into gentle smiles.
"Happy birthday, Princess."