Jean stood in the middle of the chambers, her arms crossed and her gaze sharp. The two maids stood before her, shifting nervously under her scrutiny.
"What are your names?" she asked, her tone firm yet calm.
"Rita," one answered quickly, a tinge of fear in her voice.
"Mimi, my lady," the other said, her head bowing slightly.
Jean nodded, her expression unreadable. "You'll come with me. Mimi, Rita—you too."
The two maids exchanged wary glances before following her as she strode out of the room. The click of her heels echoed through the corridor, the tension thick between them.
"Where are we going?" Rita asked hesitantly.
Jean didn't break her stride. "Somewhere you can blossom. Clearly, this chamber isn't it." Her cryptic reply left the maids even more uneasy.
Mimi froze mid-step, her voice trembling as she spoke. "But my lady, please. We love our jobs."
Jean scoffed softly. "Love your jobs? I see the way your eyes dart around, the curiosity burning behind them. And the gossip—" She shot them a pointed look.
"We only told you what happened so you'd be updated," Mimi protested, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jean hummed in acknowledgment, though her expression remained stern. "Who assigned you here?"
"The first princess herself," Rita answered reluctantly.
Jean stopped in her tracks and turned to face them, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Then you have two options: go back to her or transfer to the kitchen."
"The kitchen," Rita said quickly, her voice laced with dread. The thought of facing the first princess's wrath was far worse than peeling potatoes.
"Very well," Jean said, resuming her walk.
Moments later, they arrived at the grand kitchen, where the head maid, Martha, was overseeing the bustling staff. Jean approached her confidently.
"Hello, good day, Ms. Martha," Jean greeted, her voice carrying a respectful yet authoritative tone.
Martha looked up, her stern face softening into a rare smile. "Ah, lovely Jean. How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you," Jean replied. "I've brought these girls for you. They'll be better suited here. In return, I'd like to select one of your staff to join me in the chambers of the third princess."
Martha frowned, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. "Ah, I see. They're not meeting your expectations?"
Jean sighed lightly. "They could use more training, and I simply don't have the time to oversee it."
Martha nodded knowingly. Turning to the kitchen staff, she called out in a commanding voice, "Girls! Line up!"
The staff quickly scurried into position, though their haste resulted in an awkward single-file line.
"No, no! A front line!" Martha barked, and the maids hastily corrected themselves, forming a proper line facing her.
Jean's sharp eyes scanned the group, assessing each one carefully. She pointed at a petite girl at the far end. The girl sneezed unexpectedly, making Jean blink.
"Are you unwell?" Jean asked, her tone laced with concern.
"No, my lady," the girl replied quickly, her cheeks flushing.
Martha shook her head with a smirk. "She's not unwell—just not cut out for the kitchen. She keeps us more distracted than focused."
Jean's lips curved into a small smile. "Perfect. You're coming with me to the third princess's chambers."
The girl gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "The third princess?" she asked for confirmation.
Jean nodded.
The girl squealed, her excitement palpable. "Thank you, my lady!" she exclaimed, hurriedly removing her apron.
As laughter rippled through the kitchen, Rita and Mimi stood by, their faces darkened with resentment. Martha caught their glares and narrowed her eyes.
"Are you glaring at me?" she snapped, her voice sharp as a whip.
"No," Mimi mumbled, lowering her gaze.
"Then get to work!" Martha barked, spinning on her heel as the two maids reluctantly shuffled into the kitchen.
Jean and her new recruit made their way back to the princess's chambers.
"What's your name?" Jean asked as they walked.
"Thalia, my lady," the girl said brightly. "I cannot wait to work with you."
Jean smiled, a rare softness gracing her features. "Good. Thalia, listen carefully: gossip is not welcome in these chambers."
Thalia hesitated. "Not even the right gossip, my lady?"
Jean chuckled lightly. "Only the right kind. And it should be shared solely with the princess."
"Yes, my lady," Thalia said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.
When they arrived, Jean introduced Thalia to the other maids, Sarah and Emma.
"This is your new co-worker," Jean announced.
Thalia greeted them warmly, and the two maids exchanged relieved smiles.
"She's much better than the last two," Sarah whispered to Emma.
Emma nodded. "Those two were all talk, look and no work. Let's hope this one is different."
"I'll do my best," Thalia assured them, her sincerity evident.
Jean watched the exchange with satisfaction, feeling confident she'd made the right choice.
This was the kind of lives she wanted around Salviana. Not toxicity.
As Jean made her way toward the lady's chambers to check on her, she was pleasantly surprised to see Salviana descending the grand staircase in a fresh gown.
A smile spread across Jean's face, the sight of her mistress bringing an unexpected warmth to her chest.
"Your Grace, you're out," Jean greeted, her tone bright. She hadn't realized how much she missed Salviana until she saw her again.
Salviana nodded lightly, taking her time with the steps. Jean stepped forward, offering her hand to guide her down the last stair.
"Yes, Alaric thought he could stay cooped up all day, but even he had to step out eventually," Salviana said with a strained smile.
Though she tried to mask it, her voice betrayed her unease.
How could he leave like that? Without even washing, no less!
Jean tilted her head curiously, her eyes flicking to the materials Salviana held. "And you decided to spend your time with embroidery?"
Salviana grinned, holding up her hoop. "I am diligent."
They settled into the sitting room, the sunlight streaming through the tall windows casting a soft glow over the space. As Salviana set to work threading her needle, Jean's mind wandered, thoughts forming before she could stop herself.