The idea of having people help her bathe was so bizarre that she almost laughed. Am I supposed to just… stand there while they scrub my back? The thought made her shudder, half in embarrassment and half in disbelief.
"Um…" she hesitated, unsure how to respond. The maids remained poised, their expressions polite but expectant.
Isabella immediately opposed the idea of the maids bathing her, shaking her head vehemently. "There's no need for that," she said, her voice firm but polite. "I can handle it myself, thank you."
The maids exchanged uncertain glances, clearly taken aback by her refusal. One of them, a young woman with a calm demeanor, stepped forward. "Your Highness, we understand your wish, but it is our duty to assist you. If we neglect it, we may face reprimands from the king and queen."
Another maid chimed in, her voice gentle but resolute. "Please, Princess, allow us to do our job. If the queen finds out we did not assist you, she will not be pleased."
Isabella sighed, realizing that arguing with them was pointless. She didn't want to get anyone into trouble, but the thought of people bathing her felt… awkward. She tried once more to reason with them, but their respectful insistence eventually wore her down. "Fine," she said, her reluctance evident. "But only because I don't want you all to get scolded."
The maids seemed relieved and quickly set to work. Three of the five followed her into the bathroom, leaving the other two behind to prepare her attire.
The bathroom itself was breathtaking. It was enormous, almost the size of her entire bedroom from her original life. The floors were made of polished marble, and a massive, intricately carved bathtub sat at the center, filled with steaming water that exuded the faint scent of lavender. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, casting a soft, warm glow, and the walls were adorned with delicate gold accents. Along the sides, shelves held an array of luxurious oils, soaps, and towels, each neatly arranged.
Isabella couldn't help but marvel at the sheer luxury. As the maids began helping her out of her clothes, she felt her cheeks flush. This was a level of intimacy she wasn't used to, and her shy protests were met with gentle reassurances. "We're here to serve you, Princess," one maid said as they carefully folded her clothes.
Once she was seated in the tub, her initial discomfort began to melt away. The maids worked with practiced efficiency—one focused on washing her hair, massaging her scalp with fragrant oils, while another scrubbed her legs and toes with a light touch. The third gently cleaned the rest of her body, her movements careful and professional.
The warmth of the water and the soothing motions of the maids began to relax Isabella. Slowly, she leaned back, allowing herself to sink into the experience. So this is what it feels like to have people do everything for you—even bathe you, she thought, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips. She had never experienced even a fraction of this treatment in her original life, where she had been entirely self-reliant.
The maids finished after a while, ensuring that every detail of her bath was attended to with precision. Isabella stepped out of the tub, and they wrapped her in plush, heated towels before leading her into the adjacent dressing area.
The dressing room was as grand as the bathroom, lined with shelves and racks of luxurious gowns, shoes, and accessories. A large mirror stood in the center, surrounded by warm lights, and a small seating area was set up with a vanity table. The maids quickly dried her hair, brushing it until it shone like molten copper under the chandelier's glow.
They dressed her in a gown of soft pastel blue, the fabric flowing like water and adorned with intricate silver embroidery. The dress was fitted at the waist, accentuating her figure, with long sleeves and a modest neckline. Her hair was styled simply yet elegantly, with a few loose curls framing her face and the rest pinned up with delicate silver pins shaped like flowers.
Isabella stood before the mirror, taking in her reflection. She looked regal and stunning, her appearance a far cry from her plain and unkempt self in her original life. The sight made her smile softly. The villainess, now her, was indeed lucky. Even in her mid-teens, she radiated a beauty that would only grow with age.
The maids, seeing her all dressed up, couldn't help but compliment her. "You look beautiful, Princess," one of them said, her tone genuine.
Another maid added, "It suits you perfectly. Truly stunning."
They exchanged subtle glances, clearly surprised. The Princess had always been difficult to deal with, prone to throwing tantrums over the smallest mistakes or delays. Yet today, she had been calm, polite, and even hesitant about receiving their help. It was a stark contrast to her usual behavior.
"Thank you," Isabella replied, her voice warm. The maids smiled at her, their previous wariness replaced with relief. After ensuring everything was in place, they bowed and left the room at her dismissal.
Now alone, Isabella sat at a small table near the window, idly flipping through a book while she waited. Her thoughts wandered to the story and the events yet to come. She was determined to change her fate, and that determination burned brighter with each passing moment.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. "Princess, the adopted sister has arrived," a maid informed her politely.
"Thank you," Isabella said, dismissing the maid with a small nod. Once the door closed, she allowed herself a faint, knowing smile.
The story is just beginning, she thought, rising to her feet. With her head held high and a calm expression, she made her way toward the sitting room, ready to meet the girl who would shape her future in more ways than one.