Anastasia moved quietly through the dimly lit hallways of the Duke's estate, a tray of refreshments balanced carefully in her hands. She had grown accustomed to the silence here, the weight of the Duke's commands and the shadows that clung to the walls like ghosts. Each day was the same routine—serving, cleaning, and staying out of sight.
Today, however, there was a palpable tension in the air. The Duke had summoned several important men from the court to discuss something of great urgency. Though she wasn't privy to the details, Anastasia could tell by the hurried footsteps of the servants and the strict instructions given that this was no ordinary meeting. And now, she had been tasked with serving refreshments to the Duke and his guests.
As she approached the grand meeting room, the muffled sound of voices reached her ears. The door was slightly ajar, allowing her to hear snippets of their conversation.
"The crown is becoming more unpredictable," one voice said, laced with irritation. "If we don't act soon, the balance of power will shift."
"We need leverage," another voice responded, calm but firm. "Without it, we risk losing everything."
Anastasia took a deep breath, steadying herself before gently pushing the door open with her foot. The room was bathed in a warm glow from the fireplace, casting long shadows over the faces of the men seated around the grand table. The Duke sat at the head, his posture relaxed but commanding, his eyes sharp as they scanned the room.
To his right sat Lord Haversham, a man known for his vast wealth and influence at court. Next to him was General Castor, a decorated military leader, and across from them sat several other nobles of varying degrees of importance. The tension in the room was thick, the air heavy with unspoken power dynamics.
Anastasia entered quietly, careful not to disturb their discussion as she placed the tray of drinks on the sideboard. She moved from guest to guest, pouring wine and ale, her eyes downcast as she tried to make herself as invisible as possible. The men paid her little attention, too focused on the matter at hand.
"As I was saying," Lord Haversham began again, swirling his wine in his glass, "the issue lies with the crown's new trade policies. They're crippling the nobility's influence, pushing us into a corner where we have no choice but to comply."
The Duke remained silent, his fingers tapping lightly against the surface of the table. His expression was unreadable, but Anastasia had been around him long enough to know he was carefully weighing his words.
"I wouldn't be so quick to call it crippling," General Castor interjected. "It's a calculated move, yes, but one we can counter if we're strategic. The problem is that no one has been able to present a clear solution."
There was a murmur of agreement around the table, but the room was still charged with frustration. Anastasia moved to refill the Duke's glass, her hands steady as she carefully poured the wine. She was close enough now to hear every word of the conversation, though she tried to block it out. It wasn't her place to listen, and it certainly wasn't her place to have an opinion.
"We need a solution that strikes at the heart of their policy," Lord Haversham pressed, his voice rising slightly. "We need leverage, something that forces them to reconsider."
The Duke leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he prepared to speak. Anastasia, now standing near the side of the room with the empty tray, felt the tension rise. Everyone in the room waited for the Duke's response. His authority was undeniable, and his voice often carried the final word in such matters.
But just as he was about to speak, something compelled Anastasia to break the silence.
"It's about power," she said softly, almost to herself.
The room went still. For a moment, Anastasia didn't realize she had spoken aloud. Her heart stopped, and she felt every pair of eyes in the room turn toward her. The shock of her own voice speaking out in such an important setting sent a wave of panic coursing through her veins.
The Duke's gaze landed on her, cold and penetrating. The other men looked confused, their expressions varying from mild surprise to outright irritation. Anastasia's breath caught in her throat as she stood frozen in place, wishing she could take back what she had just done.
But there was no going back now.
"Explain yourself," the Duke said, his voice measured but carrying an edge that made it clear this was not a request.
Anastasia's mind raced. Every instinct told her to stay silent, to apologize, and beg for forgiveness, but something in the Duke's eyes made her hesitate. There was a challenge there, a silent command to continue. Her throat felt dry, but she swallowed her fear and spoke again, her voice trembling but steadying as she went on.
"The crown's policies… they're not just about trade," she said, her voice low but audible in the hushed room. "They're about consolidating power—control over the nobility, over the economy. The crown is using the policies as a way to weaken the influence of the nobles while increasing its own authority."
She glanced around the room, noting the skeptical looks she was receiving, but something pushed her forward.
"The key isn't to counter the policies directly," she continued, her thoughts coming together more clearly as she spoke. "It's to shift the narrative—to make the crown's policies seem like a threat to the people. If the nobility can position itself as the protector of the common folk's interests, the crown will have no choice but to reconsider. They can't afford to alienate the people."
There was a stunned silence in the room. Anastasia could hardly believe the words that had just come out of her mouth. She had no idea where they had come from, only that they had been bubbling beneath the surface for some time, a result of years of listening, watching, and learning from the shadows. And now, they were out in the open.
Lord Haversham looked incredulous. "And you would suggest… what? That we stir unrest among the people? Fan the flames of rebellion?"
Anastasia hesitated, realizing how dangerous her words had been. She had spoken without thinking, and now she could see the potential consequences of what she had said.
"I… I didn't mean…" she stammered, feeling the weight of the room's scrutiny bearing down on her.
But the Duke remained silent, his eyes locked on her with an intensity that made her heart race. He was studying her, not with the anger or irritation she had expected, but with something else—something far more dangerous.
"It's not rebellion," Anastasia said quickly, trying to backtrack. "It's about controlling the narrative. The people need to see that the nobility can offer them stability, protection—something the crown is failing to provide. If the crown's policies are framed as harmful to the common folk, they'll be forced to negotiate with the nobles to avoid unrest."
The room remained silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. The tension was suffocating, and for a moment, Anastasia feared she had sealed her fate. She was just a slave, after all. She had no right to speak in such a way, especially not in front of men like these.
But then the Duke spoke, his voice calm and deliberate.
"She's right."
Anastasia blinked, her heart skipping a beat. She couldn't have heard that correctly.
"The crown's power comes from its ability to control the narrative," the Duke continued, his gaze still fixed on her. "If we disrupt that narrative, we weaken their control. The people are the key."
Lord Haversham looked taken aback, clearly not expecting the Duke to side with her. "But how would we do such a thing? The crown has the backing of the church, the military… we would need to be careful not to overplay our hand."
The Duke leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Careful, yes. But decisive. We would need to start slowly, quietly. Spread rumors, sow doubt. The people are already restless—give them a reason to believe the crown is failing them, and they'll turn to us for leadership."
Anastasia stood frozen in place, barely able to process what was happening. Had the Duke just taken her suggestion seriously? Had he really just agreed with her?
The other men around the table began to nod, discussing strategies and potential plans. The room buzzed with conversation, and for a moment, it seemed as though they had forgotten she was even there. But the Duke hadn't forgotten. His gaze was still on her, unreadable, as if he were trying to figure out how she had come to such a conclusion.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice low but commanding. "Anastasia, leave us."
She bowed her head quickly, relieved to be dismissed, and hurried out of the room, her heart pounding in her chest. The moment the door closed behind her, she felt her legs tremble beneath her, and she leaned against the wall for support.
What had she done? What madness had overtaken her to speak out in front of those men? She had no place in their discussions, no right to offer her opinion. And yet… the Duke had listened. He had agreed.
But the thrill of that moment was quickly replaced by fear. She had overstepped. The Duke may have been impressed for now, but she had no doubt he would be watching her even more closely from now on. And that thought terrified her more than anything.