I hurriedly threw on my uniform, my hands trembling with the pressure. In my frantic state, I barely managed to put it on properly. The buttons were uneven, and the loose fabric hung awkwardly off my shoulders, but I had no time to care. The second I opened the door, I saw Marcus standing there, his eyes filled with fury. Without a word, I knew what he was thinking. His glare alone was enough to drive the message home. Without wasting another second, I darted past him and ran toward the king's chamber.
My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst through my chest. I could barely breathe, my lungs burning as I sprinted through the halls. Fear wrapped around me like a tight cloak, suffocating, unbearable. The sound of my own footsteps echoed in the corridor, but I didn't notice much of my surroundings. My entire focus was on reaching the king's chambers before it was too late.
As I rounded a curved corner, disaster struck. I felt something slip from my right foot, and suddenly, the cold marble floor pressed against my bare sole. My shoe had come off.
I glanced back, spotting the shoe a few paces behind me. For a split second, I considered going back for it, but the urgency of the situation made the decision for me. I couldn't afford to stop now. Not when I was already late. Not when the king could be waiting. So I kept running, the uneven sound of my one bare foot hitting the cold floor only adding to the chaotic noise in my head.
*I am doomed,* I screamed inwardly. *He'll kill me for this!*
My thoughts spiraled. Every step I took seemed to carry me deeper into the pit of my own despair. *How could I have let this happen?* The court mistress's voice echoed in my head, her voice full of caution as she warned me to Stay on the king's good side, or face consequences worse than I can imagine.
I had barely been here a day, and I had already messed up. The sheer weight of my failure made my chest tighten, and tears began to blur my vision. What excuse could I give the king for being late? How would I explain myself? And even if I did—what would it matter? I had broken one of the most important rules, and the price could very well be my life.
The thought of failing not only myself but my entire kingdom crushed me further. My mother's last wish, my people—they all depended on me to carry out my mission, to save them from the darkness. But how could I do that if I didn't even survive the first day as the king's personal maid? The tears came faster now, spilling down my cheeks as I ran through the seemingly endless corridors.
Just as I made the final turn leading to the main corridor outside the king's chamber, I saw something that made my heart skip.
The procession.
They were still there. The grand, ornate door to the king's chamber had yet to open. Relief washed over me like cold water. I wasn't too late. The universe had shown mercy after all.
I almost laughed, the sound catching in my throat as I quickened my pace, sprinting to catch up with the line of stewards and attendants. My sudden appearance caused heads to turn. Everyone glanced back at me, their expressions ranging from confused to disapproving. But I didn't care. I had narrowly escaped disaster, and that was all that mattered.
Panting, I took my place at the end of the line, wiping the tears from my face as discreetly as I could. I tried to compose myself, brushing down my oversized cloak, straightening my disheveled appearance as best as possible. My heart still raced, but I forced a steady breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.
That's when I remembered—I had lost a shoe.
Panic crept back into my chest as I looked down at my bare foot. The contrast of my one remaining shoe and the other bare foot only made me feel more exposed. Compared to the others, I looked a mess. My uniform was ill-fitting and wrinkled, my hair was still slightly disheveled from my mad dash, and now, with one shoe missing, I felt utterly out of place.
But if this was the price to avoid the king's wrath, so be it.
As the procession continued its slow approach to the chamber doors, I felt the weight of every step, my bare foot cold against the marble floor. Each movement was filled with tension, the grand door looming ahead, a reminder of the peril I had narrowly escaped. I stood tall, trying to blend in with the other stewards, pretending that I wasn't falling apart inside.
My mind still reeled from the near-disaster, and I couldn't shake the thought of how close I had come to being on the king's bad side. I had managed to catch up with the procession just in time, but the fear still lingered, clinging to me like a shadow.
The grand doors finally creaked open, and the procession began to file into the king's chamber. The air seemed to grow colder as we approached, and my stomach twisted into knots. I took a deep breath, stepping forward with the rest of them, feeling the tension rise once more.
Finally, we all entered the king's chamber. Moving with as much composure as I could muster, we arranged ourselves on both sides of the room—some on the left, some on the right. I nearly fumbled the whole thing, feeling momentarily lost in the process, but I quickly fell into place, mimicking the disciplined posture of the other servants.
The king wasn't in the outer chamber, just as he hadn't been earlier in the day. He remained in the inner chamber, where the heavy wooden door stood between us and him. As we stood in silence, perfectly poised as royal stewards should be, I allowed my eyes to wander, taking in the scene around me. My curiosity peaked when I spotted the various meals the other servants were carrying.
The sight of the dishes made my stomach clench with hunger. Each servant carried a different delicacy, and together they formed a feast fit for a king—literally. There were platters of roasted meats, steaming in their juices, their skins glistening with honey and spices. Baskets of freshly baked bread sat atop silver trays, their golden crusts still warm, the aroma wafting through the room and teasing my senses. Bowls of rich, creamy soups and stews emitted curling wisps of steam that filled the air, while plates of exotic fruits—mangoes, figs, and pomegranates—gleamed like jewels under the soft glow of the chamber's lanterns.
I couldn't help it; I began to salivate. My stomach growled softly as I stared at the spread before me. The scent of the sizzling meats mixed with the sweetness of the pastries and the sharp tang of citrus fruits, and I could feel my knees weaken. I've always loved food, never one to shy away from a hearty meal. The idea that all this was for the king, and the king alone, made me want to laugh. *Does he really need so many options?* I thought, my mouth watering even more.
Just as I tried to steady myself, suppressing the gnawing hunger that crept up on me, my eyes wandered across the chamber and landed on someone familiar—her. The girl from the day of our selection. The one who had been pushed forward by her guardian, resentment clear in her eyes. She seemed different now, as if she had accepted her fate. She no longer looked sad or defeated. When our eyes met, we exchanged small smiles—silent acknowledgments of survival in a place that tried to break us.
Before I could finish my smile, the sound of the door cracking open drew my attention. I turned to see Marcus walking in with his usual air of authority. He exuded confidence as he entered, and I immediately noticed how every head in the room dipped slightly in respect. Without hesitation, I followed their lead, lowering my gaze to the floor, hoping to avoid attracting any attention to myself.
Marcus reached the center of the room and paused, his eyes slowly scanning the space. His gaze lingered over each of us, meticulously checking every detail to ensure everything was in order. As his inspection neared me, I felt a spike of panic. My heart hammered in my chest. I kept my head lowered, hoping he wouldn't notice my disheveled state—my too-large uniform, my uneven appearance after rushing to get here. The thought of how close I had come to disaster earlier made my stomach twist.
As his eyes passed over me, I could feel my pulse quicken. It was as if he could see through me, reading every thought and mistake I had made. I held my breath, praying that he wouldn't notice the mess I was in. After what felt like an eternity, Marcus finally seemed satisfied with his inspection and nodded slightly, signaling that everything was in place.
But just when I thought I was safe, he began walking toward me.
My heart sank. He stopped right in front of me, and I froze. I kept my head down, my body rigid, trying to shrink into myself. The silence that followed felt suffocating. His presence loomed over me, and I dared not look up. My heart pounded in my ears, and I shut my eyes, bracing for the worst.
But nothing happened.
Instead, I heard a soft thud near my feet. I cracked open my eyes and, with cautious curiosity, glanced down. There, at my feet, was my missing shoe—the one I had lost during my frantic dash to the chamber. Marcus had picked it up and returned it to me.
Confusion rippled through me. *Why would he do that?* I whispered to myself. It felt... strange. This was the same Marcus who always eyed me with suspicion, the same Marcus who seemed determined to catch me off guard. And yet, here he was, quietly returning my shoe. I bent down, hurriedly slipping it back onto my foot, feeling a mixture of relief and bewilderment.
Just as quickly as he had appeared in front of me, Marcus walked away, making his way toward the door that led to the king's inner chamber. He stopped just before the door and, with a steady voice, announced, "It's all set, Your Highness."
He did not open the door, but instead, after speaking, he took his position in a corner of the room, standing straight and tall, waiting.
The tension in the room rose to a near-breaking point. My heart was racing again, and I could feel the chill in the air grow stronger. Every servant stood perfectly still, waiting for the king's appearance.
My mouth went dry, and as I swallowed hard, the sound of the king's chamber door creaking open made my body freeze in place.