Elara
The days passed slowly for me. Each morning, I woke up before dawn to begin my chores, and every evening, I fell asleep exhausted, my thoughts endlessly spiraling in my head. Although King Aldric was an unreachable man, his image haunted my dreams. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more beneath his coldness, something that could, perhaps, break the distance between us.
The palace was a vast and unfathomable place. The walls were thick, every room seemed to keep its secrets. Yet, within this labyrinth of corridors and salons, one event marked a turning point in my destiny.
One morning, as I made my way to the kitchens to prepare breakfast, I crossed paths with a servant who handed me a sealed message. He looked nervous, as though the task he had been given was much more important than a simple letter.
"The king requests your presence, Elara," he said in a low voice, barely audible.
I jumped. The king was asking for me? I had never been summoned by him before, and the very idea that he might have such a request unsettled me. With a visible effort to hide my unease, I took the message and bowed slightly, without a word.
I headed toward the royal apartments, my heart beating faster with every step. Why did the king want to see me? Had I made a mistake? My thoughts swirled in my mind, but I tried to remain calm.
When the heavy doors of the royal apartments opened, I stepped into the large hall adorned with tapestries and candles. King Aldric stood near the window, an imposing figure in the pale light of dawn. He had his back to me, but his authority was palpable, even in his stillness.
"Elara," he said in a calm, yet firm voice. "Approach."
I moved forward, my hands trembling, my gaze lowering respectfully. "Majesty, you called for me?" My voice was faint, tinged with apprehension.
The king turned slowly, his piercing eyes seeming to search my soul. His features were hard, but something in the way he observed me created an odd tension in the air.
"I don't usually summon a servant for trivial reasons," he said, a half-smile playing on his lips that seemed more strange than friendly. "However, there is a particular task I would like you to carry out."
I listened, unsure of what to say. The tension in the room was almost palpable. "A task, Sire?"
"Yes," he replied. "A ball is being prepared, an important event to which you will be invited. You must prepare the dresses and garments for the court. But there is one particular detail. The dress I want for the queen of the evening... it must be perfect. And I would like you to take care of it."
I blinked in surprise. "The... the queen, Majesty?" I stammered, feeling my heart race. The king had never mentioned a queen since the death of his wife, and this mention left me puzzled. Was this about a new alliance, a new woman he planned to marry?
Aldric seemed to understand my confusion, and a hint of melancholy passed through his eyes. "No, Elara, it is not about marriage. It is an important occasion for the kingdom. You are a woman of taste, and I know you can accomplish this task."
I bowed deeply, though my mind was clouded with so many questions. "I will do my best, Sire," I replied, my voice stronger despite the confusion swirling inside me.
He looked at me for a moment, then, as though hesitating, he added, "I am aware of your skill in observing details, Elara. You are one of the few who does not look at me as a ruthless king, but as a man. Take care of this dress. It is more than just a dress, do you understand?"
Not quite knowing what these words meant, I nodded slowly. "I understand, Sire."
"Good," he said, his voice returning to its cold and authoritative tone. "You may leave."
I turned to leave, my mind agitated by the king's words. There was something in his gaze, something different that morning. A mix of recognition and intimacy, as if he was waiting for something from me, something more than what he had said.
The following days were marked by frantic preparations for the royal banquet. I devoted myself to my task with extreme care. I wove the dress as requested, making sure every detail matched the expectations of the court. But with every stitch, every fabric I sewed, my mind couldn't detach itself from the scene I had experienced in the king's apartments. There was an odd closeness in his words, as if he had invited me to see beyond the role I had always played.
I could not ignore that this task, as simple as it seemed, went beyond anything I could have imagined. I felt that the king was looking at me in a different way, that there was a mystery in his gestures, in his glances. And as I wove the dress, a strange foreboding began to grow inside me: the fate of this encounter would not simply be that of a servant and her sovereign. Something greater, something deeper, was preparing itself in the shadows of the castle.