"Who's that girl? Why is she here?"
Thessara Valendor's voice cut through the air, drawing Zephyra's full attention as she prepared to leave. The sudden inquiry felt off, especially given Thessara's usual indifference toward her presence.
Before Zephyra could move, a cold voice answered Thessara's question.
"Did she offend you, Lady Valendor? Has she done something improper?" The speaker, a sharp-eyed servant who oversaw the lower-ranking slaves, stepped forward, his tone filled with disdain for Zephyra. His eyes narrowed on her, ready to enact punishment at the slightest hint of wrongdoing. He was quick to assume the worst, as if Zephyra's mere presence in the higher floors was a crime in itself. "I can deal with her immediately if she's caused offense."
Zephyra tensed, bracing herself for the reprimand, though she had done nothing wrong. The servant's words came with an unspoken threat, implying a harsh punishment for what was likely just a misunderstanding. Insults followed, muttered under his breath but loud enough for her to hear.
"Clumsy. Always out of place, aren't you?" he sneered. "You slaves never know your place."
Thessara, seemingly oblivious to the tension she had caused, waved her hand dismissively. "No, it's nothing like that. She hasn't offended me," she said, her voice casual but with an odd detachment.
The servant looked confused. "Then why…?"
Thessara hesitated, searching for a response. "I simply thought… she looked familiar. Yes, familiar. I thought perhaps I'd seen her before… somewhere." Her tone was light, but there was something strange about the excuse, as if even she wasn't convinced by her own words.
The servant blinked, clearly taken aback by the weak explanation. "Oh, I see," he mumbled. He then turned to Zephyra, still looking at her with disgust. "Consider yourself lucky. Just stay out of trouble."
He finally released her, but not without a parting jab. "Don't think that just because you escaped punishment this time, you're any less worthless."
Zephyra nodded, though her hands were clenched. Without a word, she quickly left the room, her mind racing with questions about why Thessara had noticed her so suddenly. It didn't make sense. They had crossed paths before—briefly—and Thessara had never cared. What had changed?
---
Whispers and Rumors
As Zephyra returned to her usual duties, the gossip among the servants escalated. Eyes followed her wherever she went, and conversations seemed to die down whenever she entered a room. The rumors were growing nastier by the day, spreading like wildfire.
"She thinks she's better than us, always acting high and mighty."
"I heard she tried to sneak into the upper floors just to get close to the elites. Pathetic."
Someone laughed. "I heard she was spying on the nobles. Maybe she's trying to get in good with them."
Others chimed in. "I bet she thinks she's one of them. I saw her sketching on the walls the other day, like some kind of artist." A snort of derision. "Please. She's just a slave like the rest of us."
Zephyra overheard these conversations but pretended not to. It was hard not to feel the weight of their jealousy, but she pushed on, focusing on her work, even though it was clear that she was becoming a target for their resentment.
Elysine, however, seemed different. She didn't partake in the gossip, but her behavior had changed too. She acted distant, more guarded, and though she still helped Zephyra when needed, something felt off.
---
Confrontation with Elysine
Later that evening, after the day's work was done, Zephyra found Elysine alone. The tension between them had grown too thick to ignore. Zephyra approached her cautiously.
"Elysine… is something wrong? You've been distant lately."
Elysine hesitated, her eyes studying Zephyra's face. "I've just been thinking," she began, her voice measured. "About you… about who you really are."
Zephyra frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You never told me much about your life, before you where a slave. "
Elysine said quietly.
"Before I was a slave?" Zephyra asked
Elysine nodded.
"And I get it—we all have things we'd rather not talk about. But sometimes… it feels like there's more you're not telling me."
Zephyra's felt her heart sinking. Elysine had always been her closest ally, her confidante, and yet she had never revealed the truth about her noble past. She had chosen to keep that part of herself buried, for safety, and out of guilt for not protecting her family.
"Elysine, I… I haven't lied to you. But you're right, I haven't told you everything."
Elysine looked at her sharply. "Then what is it? You changer so much lately. You know so much… things the rest of us don't. You act differently too, like you're more educated than any of us. How is that possible for someone who was supposed to be born a slave?"
Zephyra bit her lip. This was it. She had to tell her.
"I wasn't born a slave," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I used to be… a noble. My family was part of the ruling class, once."
Elysine's eyes widened. "A noble? But… how?"
Zephyra nodded, feeling the weight of her confession. "My family fell from grace when they opposed certain policies of the elites. We were stripped of everything—our titles, our wealth. And eventually… I ended up here."
Elysine was silent for a long moment, processing the revelation. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
"I was scared," Zephyra admitted. "I didn't know if I could trust anyone. And even now… I'm still not sure what would happen if the wrong people found out."
Elysine exhaled slowly. "I get that… I do. Only, I thought you trusted me. We've been through so much together, Zephyra. I thought we didn't have secrets between us."
"I'm sorry," Zephyra said, her voice filled with regret. "I didn't mean to hide it from you. I just didn't know how. All you do is to worry"
Elysine's expression became strange, and after a moment, she nodded. "I understand..."