The tension in the air was thick as the palace staff gathered to voice their concerns about the picnic. Prince Aedric, seated on a cushioned bench with his arms crossed, scowled at every suggestion they made. Lady Selene, sitting demurely nearby, watched the scene unfold with mild amusement, her doll-like expression masking her thoughts.
"My prince, surely you understand the importance of additional security," one of the senior servants ventured carefully. "We can discreetly accompany you to ensure your safety and that of Lady Selene."
"No!" Aedric snapped, his voice sharp enough to silence the room. "I already said Elias is enough. I don't need a dozen bumbling fools ruining my picnic!" His glare swept over the gathered staff, daring anyone to challenge him further.
"But, Your Highness—" another servant began, only to be cut off by Aedric's raised hand.
"Elias is the only one I trust." Aedric's tone softened slightly, though his scowl deepened. "Everyone else will just get in the way. That's final."
The servants exchanged uneasy glances but knew better than to argue further. If the crown prince had made up his mind, no amount of reasoning would change it. They reluctantly bowed and retreated, leaving only Head Maid Sasha behind.
Elias, who had been standing quietly by the door, felt the weight of the prince's words settle heavily on his shoulders. Being singled out in such a way wasn't a privilege—it was a burden. He noticed the sharp glances Sasha and some of the other maids sent his way as they passed. Their jealousy was palpable, though they hid it behind tight smiles.
Once the room had mostly cleared, Sasha approached him, her footsteps deliberate and slow. She stopped just short of invading his personal space, her piercing gaze locking onto his.
"Elias," she said in a low, icy tone, "you may think being the prince's favorite has earned you some sort of status, but let me remind you—if anything happens to him while you're with him, your head will roll."
Her words sent a chill down Elias's spine. He tried to meet her eyes, but the intensity of her stare made him look away. His palms felt clammy, and his heart pounded as she leaned in closer.
"Remember," she continued, her voice a sharp whisper, "you're not special. You're just convenient. Don't let this opportunity go to waste—or it will be the last one you ever get."
With that, she straightened and turned on her heel, leaving Elias frozen in place. His thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and self-doubt. He knew Sasha's threat wasn't empty; if anything went wrong, he would take the blame without question.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of anxiety. Elias felt jumpy, his nerves on edge with every sound or sudden movement. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, though it was likely his imagination. The other servants didn't harass him outright, but their cold stares and muttered comments didn't go unnoticed.
By the time he joined Aedric and Selene for the picnic preparations, he felt utterly drained. Still, he forced a polite smile and dutifully carried the baskets of food and blankets, all while keeping his gaze fixed on the ground to avoid drawing any more ire.
"Elias, hurry up!" Aedric called impatiently, snapping him out of his thoughts. "We don't have all day!"
"Yes, Your Highness," Elias replied, quickening his pace.
As they left the palace grounds, Elias couldn't help but feel the weight of Sasha's warning pressing down on him. The prince may have trusted him, but the rest of the palace was waiting for him to slip up. He just hoped he could get through the day without giving them a reason to pounce.
______
The rest of the day felt like a series of small disasters for Elias. Sasha's words replayed in his mind, fueling his anxiety. Every movement felt heavier, his focus slipping, and as a result, he fumbled simple tasks.
A tray rattled as he carried it down the hall, earning sharp looks from nearby maids. He knocked over a stack of freshly folded linens, and though he quickly apologized and cleaned it up, the maids scolded him harshly.
"You're lucky we can't leave marks on you," one hissed under her breath, glancing nervously toward the direction of the prince's chambers.
Elias bowed his head, muttering an apology before slipping away. He felt grateful that their fear of Prince Aedric prevented any physical punishment, but the verbal jabs and disdainful stares still stung. The constant tension was suffocating. He needed to find some space to breathe.
As he wandered through the quieter corridors, searching for a moment's peace, he nearly bumped into someone rounding the corner.
"Careful there," a calm, deep voice said.
Elias looked up to see the doctor who had treated him during his fever. The older man's sharp, intelligent eyes studied him with faint surprise.
"Ah, Elias, isn't it?" the doctor said with a slight smile. "You're up and about already. That's good to see."
"Yes, sir. Thank you for your care," Elias replied, bowing his head slightly.
The man chuckled. "No need to be so formal. My name is Fenrir. I'm not much more than a wandering doctor these days."
Elias straightened, feeling a flicker of curiosity. There was something about Fenrir's presence that didn't quite align with his humble words. His bearing was too refined, his gaze too sharp.
"You're a doctor…" Elias hesitated, then decided to ask the question that had been on his mind since their first encounter. "Are you associated with the temple, by any chance?"
Fenrir raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Why do you ask?"
"You look the part," Elias admitted, then quickly added, "I'm sorry, it's not my place to ask such personal questions." He bowed his head again, cursing himself for being too forward.
Fenrir's lips quirked in an amused smile. "No offense taken," he said easily. "But to answer your question, no, I'm not with the temple anymore. I'm just a doctor now."
His words seemed sincere, but Elias couldn't shake the feeling that Fenrir wasn't telling him the whole truth. There was a subtle weight to the man's presence, an aura of authority and knowledge that didn't belong to an ordinary healer.
"Thank you for answering, Sir Fenrir," Elias said cautiously, deciding not to press further.
Fenrir tilted his head, studying Elias for a moment longer. "You're quite polite for someone so young. And observant, too."
Elias blinked, unsure how to respond.
Fenrir's gaze softened slightly. "Take care of yourself, Elias. The palace can be a demanding place, especially for someone like you."
"Someone like me?" Elias repeated, confused.
Fenrir smiled faintly, but didn't elaborate. "We'll meet again, I'm sure. Try not to overwork yourself in the meantime."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Elias standing in the corridor, more puzzled than ever.
Elias watched Fenrir disappear around the corner, his mind swirling with questions. There was something undeniably strange about the man, but Elias couldn't quite put his finger on it. For now, he pushed the thoughts aside and focused on getting through the rest of the day without further mistakes.
Elias remained frozen in the hallway, staring at the empty space where Fenrir had disappeared. The encounter had left him feeling unsettled, though he couldn't pinpoint why. Something about the older man's words, his presence, the way he seemed to know more than he let on—it all made Elias uneasy.
Before Elias could dwell on it any further, he heard the sharp click of heels echoing down the corridor. He turned just in time to see Head Maid Sasha approaching briskly, her expression a mixture of annoyance and impatience.
"There you are," she snapped at Fenrir, who had just turned another corner ahead. "Do you have any idea how late you are? Lady Selene has already arrived, and both the prince and the emperor are waiting."
Fenrir stopped in his tracks, a faint crease of irritation forming on his otherwise calm face. "I wasn't aware I was running on such a tight schedule, Sasha," he said coolly, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Sasha folded her arms, her sharp gaze cutting through him. "Well, you are. So hurry up before the prince throws another tantrum. I'm sure you're aware of how much of a nightmare he's been recently."
Fenrir let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, I'm aware," he muttered. He turned back briefly, his eyes flicking toward Elias, who was still standing quietly by the wall. A fleeting expression crossed Fenrir's face—something between concern and curiosity—but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"Take care, Elias," Fenrir said again, almost as an afterthought, before striding away toward Sasha, who was already walking ahead without sparing Elias another glance.
Elias watched as the two disappeared down the corridor, their hurried footsteps fading into the distance. His chest felt tight, though he couldn't say whether it was from Fenrir's lingering words or Sasha's commanding presence.
He clenched his fists, trying to calm himself. It's none of my business what's happening with Lady Selene or the prince, he told himself. I just need to focus on doing my job properly.
Even as he thought this, however, the uneasy feeling in his chest remained, and his mind couldn't help but wander back to Fenrir's cryptic demeanor and Sasha's tense urgency. Something was definitely going on, but Elias had learned the hard way that prying into matters beyond his station could only lead to trouble.
With a resigned sigh, he turned and made his way back toward the servant quarters, trying to shake off the lingering tension from the strange encounter.