Zephyra hesitated outside the tall, heavy doors of the upper floors, her heart thudding softly in her chest. She had never been beyond the kitchens or servant quarters of Faylindra House, always restricted to the workspaces where slaves toiled, hidden away from the grandeur above. But today, she had been chosen for a task that broke through those invisible barriers. She was to deliver a parcel to the upper floors, a privilege rarely granted to someone of her status.
For a moment, she considered turning back. The rumors about what happened to slaves who ventured too far into the forbidden spaces swirled in her mind. But the parcel in her hands was light, and its destination had been made clear.
She took a breath, pushing the door open slowly, the hinges creaking as the ornate wood parted to reveal the world beyond.
The stark contrast was almost dizzying. Inside, the air was sweet and fragrant, absent of the suffocating stench of sweat and toil she was so accustomed to. It was cooler, the marble floors beneath her feet shimmering like water under the afternoon sun. The walls were adorned with tapestries woven from threads that shimmered gold, and the scent of something floral lingered in the air, blending with the faint aroma of fresh pastries that must have come from some unseen kitchen meant only for the masters.
The beauty of it all was overwhelming. Zephyra walked forward hesitantly, her boots scuffing against the plush carpets, her breath shallow with anxiety. This was a world so far removed from her own that it felt like stepping into a dream. Her fingers itched with the instinct to sketch, but she forced them still. There was no room for distraction here.
She passed through the corridor slowly, her eyes drifting to every delicate detail—the carvings of mythical creatures along the walls, the crystal sconces casting fragmented light, and the polished floors that reflected the opulence above. As she approached the sweeping staircase that spiraled upward, she couldn't help but glance toward the rooms beyond.
There was laughter, light and melodic, spilling from a partially open door. Zephyra's curiosity gnawed at her, drawing her gaze toward the sounds. She moved closer, careful not to draw attention, and caught a glimpse of what she had only ever imagined—a banquet room bathed in golden light. The table was set with silver goblets and delicate plates of food she couldn't even name, fruits and meats glazed in sauces that glistened under the chandeliers' glow. The elite sat in a casual array, their gowns and coats embroidered with fine detail, their faces bright with smiles.
Zephyra couldn't fathom what it must be like to live in such comfort. To eat without worry, to laugh without consequence. To be so free from the weight of survival. The sight stirred something deep within her, a mixture of awe and bitterness. She turned away quickly, forcing herself to refocus on the task at hand.
She reached the staircase and began her ascent, the parcel clutched tightly in her hands. Each step echoed softly against the smooth stone, and the closer she got to the upper levels, the more the sensation of being watched gnawed at her. She felt out of place, an intruder in a realm she didn't belong to.
When she reached the top of the staircase, a sudden burst of chatter drew her attention. A group of servants, all familiar faces from the lower floors, stood huddled together in a shadowed corner. Their eyes flickered toward her, and their whispers grew louder, though the exact words were barely audible.
"Look at her," one said, just loud enough for Zephyra to catch. "Strutting around like she's one of them now."
"Thinks she's special because she got a different task today. She'll learn soon enough."
The bitterness in their voices was unmistakable. Zephyra kept her head down, pretending she hadn't heard. But their words dug into her, festering like an unseen wound. The isolation was worse than the labor. She had always known that envy and rivalry were common among the slaves, but she had never been the target before.
As she walked past them, the hushed whispers persisted.
"I wouldn't be surprised if she's sucking up to the overseers. She'll do anything to get ahead."
"Shut it," another voice muttered, though not with any real conviction.
The anger in their words was sharp and undeniable, but it was the growing distance between her and Elysine that hurt the most. She hadn't seen Elysine in the group, but lately, things had felt different between them. Elysine had been avoiding her more and more, often silent in her presence, and today, that absence felt heavier than ever. Zephyra wondered if Elysine had become part of the gossiping circle behind her back, or if she was staying away to avoid being dragged into the drama. Either way, it left Zephyra feeling utterly alone.
The corridor ahead stretched into silence again, and Zephyra's grip on the parcel tightened. She forced herself to focus on the mission. Just a delivery, she reminded herself. Deliver the package, and leave quickly. There was no need to linger in this place any longer than necessary.
But as she rounded the corner, fate seemed to conspire against her. In her distracted state, Zephyra didn't notice the figure stepping out from the door directly in front of her. She collided with something firm—a body, warm and solid—and her breath caught as she staggered back.
Her eyes shot upward, wide with surprise, and she found herself staring into the face of a young man. He was tall, lean, with sharp features softened by an unexpected warmth. His dark hair, tousled and slightly unkempt, framed a set of deep, piercing eyes that held hers in a moment of stunned silence. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place.
Zephyra's heart raced, though she couldn't tell if it was from the shock of the collision or something more unsettling that had crept into her chest. She stepped back, her words stuck in her throat, unable to form an apology. The air between them felt charged, heavy with something intangible, and Zephyra's pulse quickened as her gaze flitted over his features—his jawline, the slight curve of his lips, the intensity in his eyes.
The encounter was brief, but time seemed to stretch as if the world had slowed around them. She could feel the warmth radiating from his presence, the subtle scent of something clean and familiar, but not of her world. Her skin tingled in response, her senses heightened in a way she had never experienced before. It wasn't attraction—at least not consciously—but a strange magnetism that made her feel vulnerable, exposed.
Before she could regain her composure, the man took a step back, his expression shifting from curiosity to polite dismissal. His gaze lingered on her for a split second longer, and then, as if nothing had happened, he turned and continued on his way, disappearing down the hallway.
Zephyra stood frozen in place, her mind reeling from the unexpected encounter. What had just happened? Her chest felt tight, her breath shallow, and though she tried to shake the feeling, it clung to her like a second skin.
The moment left her unnerved, and she found herself replaying it in her mind as she resumed her task. She had never reacted to anyone like that before, especially not someone from the upper echelons of society. It was something far more complicated—a strange, disorienting sensation she couldn't name.
She pressed on, determined to focus, but the flutter in her chest refused to subside.
---
By the time Zephyra reached the designated room to deliver the parcel, the murmurs from the servants had faded into the background, but their impact still lingered. She felt the sting of their resentment, the uncertainty of Elysine's loyalty, and the confusion from her brief encounter with the stranger. The weight of it all bore down on her as she handed the package to one of the upper servants, her hands trembling slightly.
As she turned to leave, she overheard a voice from behind her.
"Who's that girl? Why is she here?"
Zephyra's heart skipped. It was Thessara Valendor's voice, sharp and unmistakable. Why was she asking about her?