The morning continued as light filtered through the windows and the maids came in, they started preparing Salviana for the day.
Soon it was hair time.
She sat patiently as her "bad" maid, Priscilla, combed her hair, though today it felt harsher than usual—each stroke tugging painfully at her scalp.
Salviana winced, trying to ignore it, but the sharp tugs only grew worse, almost as if Priscilla was doing it on purpose.
She'd tried to tolerate Priscilla's poor attitude for weeks. She'd noticed how Priscilla often left her tasks unfinished or whispered bitterly under her breath.
Salviana had even overheard the lies she spread among the other maids, painting her as spoiled, weak, or unworthy.
Priscilla's spite had been subtle at first, but lately, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
When another harsh yank nearly pulled her hair from the roots, Salviana's patience finally cracked.
