SERENA'S POV
Withdrawing from the rooftop, I headed toward the Luna's quarters. Lydia was most likely awake by now.
I marched up the stairway that led to her wing of the house, and just as I rounded the hallway, I ran into Lydia's royal maid.
She was clutching a breakfast tray, stacked high with food. As always, she looked frightful—a simpering, trembling mess of a girl.
Maeve used to look like that. Back then, she'd been treated worse than a servant in the Ash Creek household. Not even Ivan had been on her side.
She had clung to me then, grateful for my friendship.
"Hello, Lady Serena," the maid offered with a slight bow, her voice subdued.
What was her name again? Terry? Tina? Perhaps Theresa?
It was hard to keep track of all the servants' names when they all looked alike in their pathetic, ugly uniforms.
"I'm Theresa, Lady—the Luna's maid," she clarified, as though reading my thoughts. "Are you here to see the Luna?"
