Maid to His Majesty

Dawn breaks over the kingdom, but your small, cold room outside the palace remains dark. The air bites at your skin as you perform your usual routine: fetching water from the distant well, enduring the icy discomfort of the outdoor stalls to wash, and dressing in your plain, brown uniform. The long walk and bicycle ride to the palace gates are a daily chore, a constant reminder of your humble status compared to the lucky few who live within its warm walls.

Arriving at the bustling servant's kitchen, the warmth is a welcome relief from the biting cold. You greet your friends, who live in the palace quarters, sharing tea and bread and listening to their chatter. You're used to their jokes about your red nose and their complaints about the unfairness of palace life, where status dictates everything.

Just as you prepare for your usual grueling sweeping duties, Cathy, a kitchen worker, rushes in, breathless. Madam Beatrice requires you urgently. Your heart pounds with a mixture of fear and curiosity as you follow her into the depths of the palace, wondering what awaits you.