Princess Bridget Cogsworth's Schedule:
+ 8:45 AM - 10:15 AM: Lessons in astronomy and alchemy.
Princess Camilla Sylvie Francheska Couturé
+ 9:15 AM - 11:00 AM: Concordian Fashion design session with the royal seamstress.
Florian carefully folded the two pieces of paper containing Bridget's and Camilla's schedules and tucked them into the pocket of his apron. His hand briefly lingered there, as if the papers were some sort of talisman against the ridiculousness of his current situation. He adjusted the glasses perched on his nose, muttering a quiet curse as they slipped down again.
'How do people wear these all day without losing their minds?' he thought, frustrated. He wasn't used to wearing glasses, and the constant adjustment was just another reminder of how out of his element he was.
Still, he had a plan—or at least the rough outline of one.
'Bridget and Camilla both take their lessons in the same hall. Their rooms are right next to each other, so I can alternate between them. I'll pretend I'm cleaning or fixing things, just another maid going about her duties. That way, I can observe them without raising suspicion.' His gaze shifted to the cleaning tools in his hands, their weight unfamiliar yet grounding.
Florian's chest tightened with nervousness. He hated the idea of messing up—drawing attention to himself would be a disaster—but the embarrassment was almost worse. Every step he took in the frilly maid uniform felt like walking through a bad dream.
'No one will recognize me. Lucius said this disguise was foolproof, and Cashew practically swooned over it. I just need to focus on the task at hand.' He inhaled deeply, willing himself to believe it.
'So, I have ample time to "clean" in the room where Bridget is having her astronomy and alchemy lessons. Once I've observed enough there, I'll move to the room where Camilla is meeting the royal seamstress. Simple enough... right?'
Florian exhaled, the breath shaky but determined. "Let's do this, Aden," he whispered, using the alias Lucius had insisted on.
He straightened his posture, tightened his grip on the cleaning tools, and forced his legs to move. With every step toward the hall, his nerves felt sharper, but he reminded himself of one thing: failure wasn't an option.
Florian took a deep breath as he approached the door to the astronomy room, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound of muffled voices filtered through the door, and he hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he was ready for this. With a final exhale, he steeled himself and pushed the door open.
The room was vast, with tall windows letting in the soft morning light, casting a warm glow on the wooden floors. A large desk was positioned at the center of the room, covered with various scrolls, books, and star charts.
Several maids were already inside, quietly moving about, and at the head of the room, there was an older man, who must have been the professor. And sitting at the desk, her posture straight and commanding, was none other than Bridget Cogsworth.
The moment Florian stepped inside, all eyes turned toward him. The maids gave him quick, disapproving glances, while the professor raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his presence. Bridget, on the other hand, didn't immediately acknowledge him. Instead, she remained poised, her gaze focused on the professor's words.
Florian's chest tightened. He could feel their eyes on him. Taking another deep breath, he raised the cleaning tools in his hands, trying to appear as confident as possible. "P-Pardon me, Your Highness," he said, his voice higher-pitched than usual, though it still faltered. "I... am here to clean."
The words sounded awkward in his ears, and he could feel the heat rise to his cheeks. As he stood there, the silence stretched on for a few moments. Finally, one of the maids, a sharp-eyed woman with a frown set on her face, spoke up.
"This room does not need cleaning at the moment." she said, her tone cold and dismissive. "Her Highness is in the middle of a lesson. You should leave."
'Fuck.'
Florian felt his stomach drop. He'd barely stepped inside, and already things were going wrong. But before he could apologize and retreat, Bridget, surprisingly, spoke up.
"It's fine," she said, her voice calm and measured. "I don't mind having a maid here while I work." Her gaze briefly flicked toward Florian, and he noticed something unexpected—she didn't look as arrogant or unapproachable as he observed her to be before.
In fact, there was an air of quiet acceptance about her that made Florian feel a little more at ease.
The maid who had spoken earlier seemed frustrated but nodded curtly. "As you wish, Your Highness."
Florian quickly shuffled to a corner of the room, away from Bridget and the professor, and began cleaning, focusing on wiping down a nearby shelf. His mind, however, was far from the task at hand. His ears strained to catch snippets of the conversation.
The professor, a middle-aged man with glasses perched on the end of his nose, had resumed speaking to Bridget. "As I was saying, Your Highness, the constellations we see here in Concordia cannot be observed in the other kingdoms. The stars that guide us are unique to this land."
Bridget's eyes lit up, and Florian was surprised by how intently she was listening. "Really? How do you know that? What makes them different?"
The professor smiled, clearly pleased with her interest. "Well, you see, Princess, the constellation we refer to as 'The Empress's Crown'—a rare alignment of five stars—can only be seen from Concordia. No other kingdom's skies display this constellation, and it has long been a symbol of our royal family."
Florian blinked, pausing in his cleaning. 'Whoa. Bridget's actually really into this.'
Bridget leaned forward slightly, her gaze fixed on the professor. "Tell me more about it. What else makes the constellations here so special? Could they have a deeper meaning? Perhaps a connection to your ancestors?" She asked with a genuine curiosity that Florian hadn't expected from someone so often seen as cold.
'She's even... asking a lot of questions.' Florian thought, still moving around the room, pretending to clean, but his attention was fully on their conversation now.
The professor nodded, clearly impressed by her questions. "That's the beauty of these stars, Your Highness. They're not just guides for sailors and travelers. Some believe they contain the wisdom of our forebears, waiting to be deciphered. But there is much yet to learn."
Florian found himself drawn into the conversation more and more, surprised by the depth of Bridget's interest. For all the rumors of her coldness and arrogance, she seemed genuinely fascinated by the stars and the mysteries of Concordia. He couldn't help but wonder—was this side of her known to anyone?
Just as Bridget asked another question, one that made the professor pause for a moment, Florian heard a loud, unmistakable laugh echo from the other side of the room. His heart sank as he instantly recognized it.
Camilla.
Bridget groaned, her expression shifting slightly in annoyance. "Ugh. She has arrived."
Florian froze, his grip tightening on the cleaning tools. 'No way... Camilla's already here?'
Florian's breath hitched as Camilla's voice echoed through the room. His grip on the cleaning tools tightened, and his eyes darted toward the door. Whatever was going on, it wasn't just an early arrival—it had to be something more. He decided he couldn't ignore it.
'If she's here this early, it might important. I need to find out what's happening,' he thought, heart pounding.
Slowly, he began edging toward the exit, careful not to draw attention. The other maids were focused on their tasks, and the professor was deep in conversation with Bridget, who seemed more interested in his words than anything else. Florian kept his steps light, almost reaching the door, when he felt a firm hand grab his arm.
Startled, he turned quickly to find the sharp-eyed maid from earlier glaring at him. Her grip was strong, and her expression was skeptical.
"Where are you going?" she asked, her tone clipped. "You're not done cleaning yet."
Florian's mind raced as he scrambled for an answer. "I—I need to grab something," he stammered, raising the cleaning tools in his hands as if they would somehow validate his excuse.
The maid narrowed her eyes, her suspicion palpable. "I haven't seen you around before. What's your name?"
Florian froze, his pulse quickening. He hadn't prepared for this, and for a split second, his mind blanked. Then, with a forced smile and a barely concealed panic, he blurted, "Kaz."
The maid raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Kaz?"
"Yes. I'm new," Florian added hastily. "Just started today."
She studied him for a long moment, her gaze sharp and calculating. Then, to his relief, she finally released his arm. "Fine. But come back quickly. If Lady Delilah sees you slacking off, you'll regret it."
Florian nodded quickly, muttering a hurried, "Thank you," before slipping out the door. Once outside, he let out a shaky breath and leaned against the wall, his heart racing.
He glanced down the corridor, ensuring it was empty before straightening up. Camilla's voice was louder now, unmistakably coming from the direction of the room where her lesson was supposed to take place.
'Alright. Time to see what she's up to,' he thought, clutching the cleaning tools tightly as he moved cautiously toward the source of the noise.
The hall was quiet, save for the faint sound of Camilla's laughter echoing from a partially open door. Florian approached carefully, his footsteps soft against the polished floor. He was just about to peer through the crack when he felt another hand grab his arm.
Florian froze, his stomach sinking. 'Not again,' he groaned internally, already expecting the sharp-eyed maid to scold him once more. But before he could turn, a low voice whispered against his ear, sending an unexpected shiver down his spine.
"You seem new, gorgeous. What's your name?"
Florian's blood ran cold as he recognized the voice instantly. Lancelot.