Marius jolted awake to the sound of loud knocking, his head heavy with sleep. It took him a moment to recognize the source—the door to his small, shabby room. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, feeling the roughness of the blanket against his skin. The knocking persisted, each thud resonating through the thin walls, urging him to respond.
He dragged himself out of the narrow bed and shuffled to the door, the cool stone floor biting at his bare feet. When he opened it, a tall woman stood before him, her posture straight and her eyes cold. She looked down at him, her gaze sharp and unyielding.
"You look like shit," she remarked, her voice cutting through the morning air like a knife. She pointed over his shoulder, into the room. "Wash your face."
Marius blinked, still trying to fully wake up. He hesitated, glancing back at the wooden basin in the corner of the room. Before he could take a step, the woman whistled sharply, and he turned back to face her. Her hand reached out, thrusting a bundle of clothes into his chest.
"I forgot to hand you this," she said, her tone mocking. Marius looked down at the garments, their red and white fabric stark against his clammy hands. He pushed them back toward her.
"I'm fine with what I'm wearing," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "It's still clean, and I'm comfortable in it."
The woman's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Come closer," she ordered, her voice sweet but laced with something darker.
Marius eyed her warily but took a step forward. Without warning, her hand shot out and slapped him hard across the face. The sting spread across his cheek, bringing tears to his eyes, but he forced them back, refusing to show weakness.
"I am the Queen's maid," she hissed, her face inches from his now. "When I give you an order from my master, you obey. Got it?"
Marius swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "Aren't you an Omega like me?" he shot back, his voice low with suppressed anger. "Do you get off bullying your own people because you have some position of power?"
The maid's laughter was harsh, a sound that echoed off the stone walls. "You? Preaching to me about solidarity?" she sneered. "You who pretended to be a blue blood along with your mother for years? Don't talk to me about loyalty, Omega."
Her words cut deep, reopening freshly healing wounds. He clenched his fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. The woman's eyes flicked to the bundle of clothes he still held, her gaze narrowing.
"Purple is for Bedni men," she said coldly, gesturing to the plain toga he wore. "Where you're going, you won't be pleasuring men or women with your body. You're transitioning to a servant boy now, earning your keep like the rest of us uglies."
Marius stared at the clothes in his hands, noting the red and white color scheme. The reality of his situation began to sink in—this was his new life, whether he liked it or not. Slowly, he dropped the garments onto the bed and moved to the basin. The water was cold, biting into his skin as he splashed it over his face. It didn't do much to wake him up, but it was enough to dull the ache in his cheek.
He stripped out of the toga he had been given the night before, the fabric pooling at his feet. The new clothes felt strange in his hands, the material softer than he expected. He hesitated for a moment, then began to dress, pulling on the tunic with deliberate slowness, as if savoring these final moments of rebellion.
The maid watched him, her expression unreadable. When he was almost dressed, she smirked. "You've got a nice-looking butt," she remarked casually, her eyes roving over him. "And an impressive member, too. You could be the next big thing in these walls. You could dethrone that cunt even or at least stand as her equal."
Marius gritted his teeth, pulling the tunic down and adjusting it to cover himself. "I'm not prostituting myself," he muttered, his voice firm.
The maid chuckled, stepping closer to him. She reached out, adjusting the tunic so it lay flat against his chest, her touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. Then she bent down, placing a pair of sandals at his feet.
"If I were beautiful enough, I could have been a Bedni," she said softly, her voice almost wistful. "It's a far better life than slaving away for the royal family. There are privileges—your own quarters, money, connections, protection. And of course, there's the pleasure."
Marius stared at her, trying to gauge her intent. Her words were laced with something more than mere envy. There was yearning there, buried beneath the surface.
"Your beauty was enough to get you off death row," she continued, her voice taking on a harder edge. "You'd be foolish not to use that to claw your way back to the top."
That said, she tossed a pair of sandals that looked like it was made dried up grass in front of him.
"You will be doing a lot of walking. You should be protect your feet."
He glanced down at the sandals she had given him, their simple design a stark contrast to the luxury he had once known. Slowly, he slipped them on, the material cold against his skin.
The maid stepped back, her gaze raking over him one last time. "If you survive her Majesty," she said, her voice almost taunting, "you'll be unstoppable as a Bedni. That is... until you get old and undesirable, or jealous Bednis get to you."
It was like she was assuring him. But nothing about this felt good.
Marius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease her words stirred within him. He had spent his entire life pretending to be something he wasn't, and now, the truth of his identity was being forced upon him. But he wasn't about to let anyone, not even this kingdom dictate his fate.
"I'm not prostituting myself," he repeated, his voice stronger this time, more resolute.
The maid just chuckled again, as if his words were nothing more than a child's defiance. She stepped back, heading toward the door, her hand resting on the handle as she turned to face him one last time.
"Suit yourself," she said with a shrug. "But remember, Omega, in this world, you either use what you've got or you lose it. And from where I'm standing, you've got a lot to lose."
Marius stood there for a moment, his thoughts swirling in his head. He looked down at the tunic he now wore, the red and white colors stark against the drab surroundings.
The maid broke the silence, her voice softer now, almost matter-of-fact. "Omega, we should get going. The roosters will soon get singing."
Marius nodded, his resolve hardening. He had no choice but to follow her. The maid opened the door, and they stepped out together into the crisp morning air.
The world outside was still cloaked in darkness, the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. The air was cold, biting at his exposed skin, and a faint mist clung to the ground, swirling around their feet as they walked. The silence of the early morning was broken only by the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a night bird, their cries echoing through the empty streets.
Marius shivered slightly, pulling the tunic tighter around himself as they made their way through the palace grounds. The cold seeped into his bones, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the path ahead. The maid walked a step ahead of him, her pace brisk and purposeful. He watched her, trying to gauge her mood, but her face remained impassive, giving nothing away.
"What will I be doing at the Queen's quarters?" Marius finally asked, his voice low, as if afraid to disturb the stillness of the morning.
The maid didn't turn to look at him as she answered. "The Queen personally requested that you ease into your new role. She wants you to learn the ropes before you're thrown into the deep end."
Marius frowned. "So what does that mean? What will I be doing?"
"You'll be joining those stationed at the Queen's kitchen today," she replied, her tone flat. "It's an easier start compared to the other duties. You'll help with the preparations, cleaning, and whatever else is needed. Consider it a test, to see how well you adapt."
He couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over him, though it was quickly tempered by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The kitchen, at least, seemed safer than the other possibilities his mind had conjured. But he knew better than to let his guard down. In this place, safety was an illusion.
They continued walking in silence, the palace looming ahead of them, its grand silhouette dark against the slowly brightening sky. The cold air filled his lungs with each breath, grounding him in the reality of his situation. No longer a pretender, no longer a blue blood—just an Omega trying to survive in a world that would just as soon see him crushed.
As they neared the Queen's quarters, the faint sounds of early morning activity reached them. Servants were already beginning their day, their voices murmuring softly as they went about their tasks. Marius took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever awaited him inside.
The maid glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "Just remember," she said quietly, her voice almost lost in the morning breeze, "you're here to serve. Do your job well, and you might just get through this."
Marius didn't respond, but he nodded slightly, his mind set. He would do what he had to, bide his time, and figure out a way to survive this.