The first rays of dawn filtered through the high, narrow windows of the palace, casting cold streaks of light across the polished stone floors. I awoke on a hard cot in a small servant's chamber, barely more than a closet in size, with plain walls and a single candle on a rickety bedside table. My back ached from the unforgiving mattress, and for a moment, I struggled to remember where I was.
Then reality settled in like a weight on my chest. The palace, the queen's cold command, Javier's small, fragile face flashing in my mind. My heart ached, and I pulled myself up, my hands trembling slightly. Today would be my first day of service to the queen, a life I'd never wanted but was now bound to.
Just as I was preparing myself, there was a brisk knock at the door. A tall, stern woman entered without waiting for a response. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun, and her sharp gaze appraised me with a mix of disapproval and impatience.
"Get up," she snapped, her tone leaving no room for protest. "You're late. The queen expects you in the hall at once. And if you care to keep your head on your shoulders, you'll follow my orders to the letter."
I bit back any response, nodding and pulling myself to my feet, forcing myself to stand tall under her intense gaze.
"Good," she said, her voice a bit softer now, though her eyes were still cold. "You'll address me as Headmistress Elara. I am in charge of all servants in the queen's service, and I will not tolerate incompetence." She motioned for me to follow her, and I walked a step behind as we made our way through the palace halls.
The grand halls around me was overwhelming, the tall ceilings and golden hallways is a stark contrast to the simple life I'd known. My stomach twisted with a mixture of awe and resentment. This was a place of unimaginable wealth, yet I'd been forced to steal bread just to keep Javier alive. Now, I'd be expected to maintain it, polish it, make it gleam while my brother lay in the care of strangers.
Elara led me to the main hall, where the queen waited. She sat on her throne, her gaze sweeping over me as if I were a particularly uninteresting insect. The same coldness in her eyes reminded me of the terms she'd set. My brother was beyond my reach, and she held my fate in her hands.
"You'll start by attending to my chambers," the queen said, her voice calm, each word like ice. "Then, you will assist with the morning meal preparations in the kitchens. I expect excellence."
"Yes, my queen," I replied, my voice steady, though inside, my emotions churned.
As I turned to leave, the queen's voice rang out, cold and sharp, halting me mid-step.
"You were not dismissed," she said, her tone like a sudden frost creeping into the warm dawn. I froze, forcing myself to meet her eyes. Her gaze was steady, impassive, as if she were delivering an ordinary sentence rather than reshaping my fate with every word. "One more thing," she continued, her voice echoing through the hall, "you are to remain faceless."
The words hit me like a slap, and I felt a sudden, sharp sting of humiliation. Faceless? I barely breathed as she went on.
"A veil will forever cover your face, a reminder of the treason you attempted and the ruler you serve," she declared, her voice low but laced with a satisfaction that made my stomach twist. "Elara," she gestured to the headmistress, who stood at attention, eyes forward, "take her to the dressmaker. She is to be fitted with a servant's dress and a veil to remind her of her place."
Elara nodded stiffly. "It will be done, Your Majesty."
"Now," the queen continued, her voice softer but no less chilling, "remove that dreadful cloak and change. You should look like one of my servants. Elara will take you to begin your duties afterward."
I bowed, swallowing hard as I murmured, "Yes, my queen." My voice came out small and weak, a stranger's voice echoing back at me.
Elara motioned for me to follow her, her job of the palace. I felt each step like a heavy weight, pressing down on me with each reminder of what I'd lost—and what I was becoming. The grand, gilded hallways and high windows that sparkled with sunlight only made the ache inside me deepen. Every luxurious detail seemed to mock me, reminding me that I was bound here, veiled, faceless, and hidden away from the life I'd known.
We arrived at a small, secluded room tucked away from the palace's bustling corridors. Inside, an elderly woman with gray hair and sharp, calculating eyes stood by a rack of servants' uniforms. She looked me up and down, her eyes lingering on my face before shifting to Elara.
"This is the one?" she asked, her voice dry and disinterested.
Elara nodded curtly. "Yes. A simple servant's dress, nothing extravagant, and a veil—one that she will wear from now on."
The dressmaker raised an eyebrow, but she offered no protest. Instead, she turned, pulling a dull gray dress from the rack, along with a long, thin veil of the same color. She held them out to me, her hands steady, her expression unreadable.
"Go on, girl. Try it on," she said, her voice brusque.
I took the garments, my fingers trembling as I ran them over the rough fabric. This was to be my new identity, the veil that would hide me from the world and strip me of any trace of who I once was. I hesitated, but the firm gaze of Elara left me with little choice.
In a small alcove nearby, I slipped out of my old, tattered cloak and put on the servant's dress. The fabric was heavy and plain, the fit loose and unremarkable. I pulled the veil over my face, the thin, scratchy fabric casting a dim shadow over my vision. I caught a glimpse of myself in a small mirror on the wall, and a pang shot through me.
The person staring back was no longer me. She was a ghost, a shadow—someone who had been erased.
I returned to the room where Elara waited, my head lowered. She looked me over, nodding with satisfaction, as if I were a piece of furniture that had finally been put in its place.
"Now, come," she said, her voice brisk. "You have much to learn."
She led me out into the main hall, where the other servants moved about with practiced ease, their faces shadowed with the same veils that now covered mine. I felt a strange kinship with them, yet I knew my place was different. I had come here as an outsider, and now I was a prisoner with no chance of escape.
Elara took me through my duties,Scrubbing floors, polishing silver, hauling wood for the fires. My hands quickly became raw and sore, my back aching as the hours dragged on. Servants passed by, barely sparing me a glance.
After finishing the day's endless tasks, my hands raw and aching, I was summoned by the queen. Her expression was as unmoved as ever as she spoke, each word as unyielding as iron.
"You are to serve as the princess's main servant," she commanded. "You will tend to her every need and ensure she is prepared for the arrival of the prince of Elkodia. I expect you to make her look flawless, without fault, as is her duty and yours. You will keep your veil on at all times. You are not to reveal yourself to her. You are her shadow—nothing more. I expect you to obey."
"Yes, my queen," I murmured, my voice low and steady, despite the turmoil within me. The princess's main servant—another weight tied to my shackles. But I dared not show anything other than humble submission before the queen.
With a curt nod, she dismissed me. But her parting words hung over me as I walked toward the east wing, where the princess's chambers were.
I lowered my head as I walked, hearing the whispers of servants around me, their words laced with curiosity, pity, or amusement. The faceless girl, assigned to serve the princess. I quickened my steps, feeling the weight of their stares, finally reaching the princess's door.
I knocked softly.
"Come in," a gentle voice replied, a voice that echoed faintly of my own. I stepped inside and stopped in my tracks.
Seated on a lavish bed, wrapped in silks and jewels, was a young woman who looked like she'd been crafted by the gods themselves. Dark hair framed her face in waves, her skin glowing in the morning light. But it wasn't her beauty that made me freeze—it was the familiarity in her features. She looked strikingly like me. My heart pounded as I tried to make sense of it. The princess of this realm, and yet…she could almost have been my twin.
Before I could find my voice, her gaze fell on me, full of disdain and irritation.
"What do you want?" she snapped, pulling me from my stunned silence.
"I…I'm sorry, my princess," I stammered, my mind reeling as I forced myself to focus. I lowered my gaze, gathering my composure. "I am here under the queen's orders. She has assigned me as your new head servant."
The princess gave a bitter laugh. "Of course she did," she muttered, her voice laced with mockery. "Leave it to Mother to send one of her…least impressive servants."
I felt a sting of humiliation but held my tongue, bowing slightly and backing toward the door. "If that is all, I'll take my leave, Princess."
"Wait."
I stopped, turning back toward her. Her expression shifted into one of impatience, her eyes narrowing in disapproval.
"The next time you come into my chambers, lose that ugly veil," she sneered. "I refuse to be served by someone who hides behind a scrap of cloth. Dumb and ugly. Hardly the servant I deserve."
A pang shot through me, but I forced myself to keep my voice calm. "I'm sorry, Princess. I cannot remove my veil," I said gently. "It was the queen's order, a punishment for my actions."
Her lip curled in disdain. "Punishment?" She scoffed. "Of course, how fitting. Just keep out of my sight when you're not needed."
With that, she turned away, dismissing me as if I were nothing but a shadow.
I bowed one last time, my heart heavy as I left the chamber, the veil pressing uncomfortably against my face. I could still feel her cold gaze and the sharp sting of her words. As I made my way back to my quarters, the unsettling resemblance between us was on my mind .
As I finally reached my small, dimly lit chamber, exhaustion settled over me like a heavy cloak. Every muscle in my body ached from the day's duties, my mind still reeling from everything that had happened. The queen's cold orders, the weight of the veil on my face, the endless tasks assigned to me—and the strange, undeniable resemblance between the princess and me.
I sank onto the narrow cot, its worn fabric and rough straw filling a poor comfort against the harsh stone beneath. But even as I lay down, sleep felt a million miles away. The princess's face haunted my thoughts. I could still see her—perfect, graceful, her skin flawless in a way I could never hope to mirror. That slight sneer on her lips as she'd looked at me, her disgust so clear.
Unable to shake the feeling, I sat up and reached for a shard of glass tucked away in the corner of the room, my only means of seeing myself. Holding it up, I studied my reflection. My face was worn, my skin rough and blotchy from lack of care and years of scraping by with nothing. Faint scars and blemishes marked my cheeks, and a dullness sat in my eyes—a reminder of nights spent sleepless and hungry.
Yes, there were similarities between the princess and me. We shared the same high cheekbones, the same deep-set eyes. But that's where it ended. Her beauty was polished, effortless. I was no one—a shadow, a servant hidden under a veil, faceless in her presence.
I set the shard down with a sigh, feeling a pang of something I couldn't quite name. A faint wish, perhaps, that things had been different. That I had been someone with the ease and beauty she carried so naturally. Someone who could hold her head high in those grand halls.
But that wasn't my reality. And it never would be.
I took one last deep breath, letting my head sink into the thin pillow. Closing my eyes, I let go of the day's burdens, trying to find solace in the silence of the room. Tomorrow would come, and I would once again be at the queen's command, serving a princess who looked like a vision of the life I'd never have.
Sleep came slowly, but when it finally claimed me, it offered a brief escape from the strange new world I found myself bound to.