Chapter Five
THE MASK
Lilac adjusted the hem of her plain, gray dress, her fingers trembling slightly as she stood at the base of the grand staircase leading up to the royal castle.
The invitation had come suddenly—delivered by an envoy in pristine livery and stamped with Prince Edward's crest.
It had been framed as a simple request: the prince required new maids for his castle staff, and her reputation at Wellenberg Manor had preceded her.
Of course, the idea of leaving Wellenberg should have brought relief. Lord Ashalt's cold commands and the suffocating air of the manor had weighed on her since the day she arrived.
But Edward's invitation had not come without unease.
She remembered the way his gaze lingered so long, the way his easy charm hid something darker beneath. Still, refusing an invitation from the royal family wasn't an option.
Lilac tightened her grip on the satchel slung over her shoulder and began her ascent, the imposing castle looming larger with each step.
The castle interior was nothing short of magnificent, every surface gleaming with extravagance.
Gilded sconces lined the walls, their soft glow casting intricate shadows across tapestries that depicted battles, coronations, and other moments of royal triumph.
Lilac was escorted by a pair of silent guards through the labyrinthine halls, her footsteps muffled by thick rugs. The air was heavy with a mix of incense and polished wood, the scent almost overwhelming.
Edward awaited her in a smaller, less formal chamber. He sat by a window that overlooked the sprawling castle gardens, the sunlight catching the gold embroidery on his doublet.
He looked every bit the prince: poised, regal, and utterly unapproachable.
"Lilac," he greeted, his lips curving into that same practiced smile. "Welcome. I trust the journey wasn't too taxing?"
"It was—pleasant, Your Highness," she replied, curtsying low.
"Good." Edward rose, motioning for her to sit in one of the chairs by the window. "We'll discuss your duties shortly. But first, let me assure you, you'll find life here far more agreeable than at Wellenberg Manor."
His words were smooth, his tone light, but there was a subtle weight behind them—a veiled disdain for Asphalt that Lilac didn't dare question.
The initial hours passed uneventfully. Edward's steward showed Lilac to her modest quarters and outlined her responsibilities: tending to the prince's chambers, managing his wardrobe, and assisting with correspondence.
The tasks weren't unlike those she'd done at Wellenberg, but the atmosphere was entirely different.
The castle buzzed with life—maids hurrying through halls carrying linens, courtiers whispered in corners, and the faint strains of music echoed from distant chambers.
Yet, despite the activity, Lilac couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Edward's presence was never far, his footsteps seeming to echo wherever she went. And though his words were always polite, there was an undercurrent to his attention that unsettled her.
Later that evening, as Lilac worked in the prince's study organizing papers, raised voices drew her attention.
She froze, her hands stilling over a stack of documents as the unmistakable sound of Edward's voice carried through the corridor.
"You don't understand the gravity of this situation!" Edward's tone was sharp, a far cry from the polished charm he usually displayed.
"And you don't understand discretion," another voice replied, deep and authoritative. Lilac's heart skipped—this had to be the king.
She crept closer to the study door, her pulse quickening as she strained to hear more.
"If this gets out," Edward continued, his voice lowering but losing none of its intensity, "it will ruin everything. Do you want to see this family dragged through the mud?"
"There are better ways to handle this than rash decisions," the king replied, his tone laced with weariness. "Your temper will only make matters worse."
"My temper?" Edward snapped, and Lilac could almost feel the air crackling with his anger. "This isn't about me—it's about protecting the crown."
The argument continued, their voices rising and falling like the tide. Though the details were murky, the tension between father and son was palpable.
Whatever scandal they spoke of, it was serious enough to shake even Edward's polished facade.
Lilac's breath hitched as a sudden silence fell. Had they noticed her? She stepped back quickly, returning to the desk and resuming her task with trembling hands.
Moments later, the door opened. Edward strode in, his expression thunderous. He stopped short when he saw her, his eyes narrowing.
"Did you hear anything?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm.
"No, Your Highness," Lilac lied, her voice steady despite the beating of her heart.
Edward studied her for a long moment before nodding. "Good. Some matters are best left unheard."
As the days passed, Lilac's unease grew. Edward's charm continued to fray at the edges, revealing glimpses of the temper that lurked beneath.
He was quick to anger when things didn't go his way, and his interactions with the castle staff often carried an air of condescension.
Still, there were moments when he seemed almost human—when he spoke of his ambitions with a fiery passion that bordered on desperation.
It was in these moments that Lilac saw the weight he carried, the burden of a prince who felt the world was against him.
But it was a double-edged sword. For every moment of vulnerability, there were two types of cruelness.
The turning point came one evening during dinner. The grand hall was filled with courtiers and nobles, their laughter and conversation mingling with the clinking of silverware.
Lilac had been assigned to serve at Edward's table, her movements careful and deliberate as she poured wine and cleared the dishes.
A minor accident occurred—another servant accidentally spilled a small amount of wine on Edward's sleeve. The prince's reaction was swift and merciless.
"You call this competence?" he hissed, his voice low enough not to draw the room's attention but sharp enough to cut.
The servant stammered an apology, his face pale, but Edward's glare didn't waver. "Get out of my sight," he growled, his tone like ice.
Lilac watched the exchange, her stomach twisting. The mask of charm Edward had worn so easily had slipped entirely, revealing the cold, calculating man beneath.
As the servant scurried away, Edward's gaze flicked at Lilac. For a moment, their eyes met, and she saw something in his expression—a flicker of frustration, of vulnerability—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Later that night, as Lilac prepared for bed, she found herself replaying the day's events. Edward's outburst, his argument with the king, the strange tension that seemed to hang over the castle—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle she couldn't quite assemble.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small pendant she had found tucked into her satchel earlier—a gift from Edward, though he hadn't given it to her in person.
It was a simple piece, adorned with the royal crest, but its weight in her hand felt heavier than it should.
Lilac's thoughts drifted to Wellenberg Manor, to Ashalt and the mysterious secrets that lingered there. She had traded one web of intrigue for another, and she wasn't sure which was more dangerous.
As she stared out the window at the darkened castle grounds, a single thought echoed in her mind:
What had she gotten herself into?