Two young servants walked through the dimly lit hallway, their voices kept to tense whispers.
The dark copper-haired boy on the left appeared to be doing most of the talking, his anxious expression betraying his concern. Beside him, the other servant listened with growing irritation, looking far more annoyed than worried.
The boy on the left continued his quiet lecture, urging the other to keep his distance from the nobility.
"They're far above people like us," he warned. "If Her Majesty hadn't stepped in, we'd have been in serious trouble."
"Arno," he said more gently, "it's better if we stay out of their affairs."
"Their affairs?" Arno muttered. "That Corvin man was clearly blaming you for something he did."
"Keep your voice down," Alaric cautioned. "Someone might hear you."
Arno's hands curled into fists, his frustration spilling over.
"Alaric… you're my younger brother. It's my responsibility to protect you, whatever the cost."
"But you—"
The hallway fell silent. Only the steady rhythm of approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor before drifting past them.
A remarkably tall young woman, dressed in the same servant's uniform, passed them without a word and continued down the hallway.
The brothers instinctively followed her with their eyes, momentarily taken aback by her height.
As she continued down the hall, a thought surfaced in Alaric's mind.
(That's the same attendant I saw at the gala. She was hard to miss, towering over so many others. I only caught a glimpse of her before she disappeared. I remember she was carrying far too many drinks on a single tray. Strange... Maybe she's new. Should I ask?)
Before he could dwell on it any longer, Arno broke the silence.
"Excuse me, miss... are you new here?"
The young woman halted mid-step.
"Please don't misunderstand," Arno said, his voice measured. "We've simply never seen you around before, so we were... curious."
Yet the sharpness in his gaze told a different story. There was far more suspicion in his eyes than curiosity.
The young woman remained motionless.
"Is something wrong? Are you—"
"She's an ancillary."
The deep voice cut through the silence before Arno could finish.
A young man clad in gleaming armor approached, each measured step heavy with authority.
{ The ancillary staff consisted of servants temporarily assigned from the imperial estates of the Emperor or Empress of Elenor. They were summoned to the Imperial Palace only for grand occasions—birthdays, festivals, and, most notably, coronations. Once their duties concluded, they returned to their respective estates.
The arrangement was born of practicality. It was considered far wiser to rely on servants already known to the royal household than to recruit complete strangers for such brief service. In doing so, the palace ensured both security and efficiency while sparing unnecessary time and effort. }
The gleam of his polished armor and the imposing crest upon his ornate helmet were enough to make both boys straighten instinctively.
"Captain," they said in unison, lowering their heads in a respectful bow.
"I'm the one who arranged her assignment," the armored man said, his voice low and unwavering.
"This captain is enormous," Alaric thought, unease creeping over him. "He could pin both of us to the wall with one hand."
"H-Hey, Arno..." Alaric whispered. "Let's just go."
Arno hesitated, then turned back to the young woman.
Alaric's face went blank.
(Oh, we're dead.)
"Miss, if that was the case, you could've told us from the start," Arno said, though the tremor in his voice betrayed the weight of the captain's presence.
The woman gave a small nod, her back still turned to them.
Arno frowned.
"Is something wrong?" he asked. "You haven't said a word."
The armored man took a step forward.
"She cannot speak," he said flatly. "And she suffers from social anxiety."
The young woman flinched at his words.
Both brothers fell silent.
"We're sorry," Alaric said at once, lowering his head. "We didn't know."
Arno quickly followed suit.
"Y-Yes... we're truly sorry."
"Let's go," Alaric whispered, tugging at his brother's sleeve.
"Wait..."
Alaric froze.
"Then... why work here as a palace servant?"
The moment the words left Arno's mouth, his confidence faltered beneath the captain's gaze.
"N-No, Sir, that's not what I meant," he stammered. "It's just... you know how the palace is, and how demanding service here can be. I was only... wondering."
"Arno, you're going to get us both killed," Alaric thought.
"She's poor."
The woman gave another involuntary twitch, as though each sentence struck her like an arrow.
"Poor enough that her family can scarcely afford food," the captain continued without emotion. "She had no particular trade or skill to earn a living. In the end, despite her own wishes, she entered palace service because she had no other choice."
A heavy silence followed.
"That's... truly unfortunate," Arno said quietly.
"I hope things get better for you, miss," he added.
"Y-Yeah," Alaric echoed.
The young woman remained perfectly still, unable to comprehend what had just unfolded.
The brothers lowered their heads in a final bow. Before Arno could say anything else, Alaric seized him by the arm and hurried him away.
As the brothers walked away, the woman and the armored man remained where they stood.
Before long, their hushed voices slipped back into their familiar bickering.
Yet after only a few steps, Alaric found himself glancing over his shoulder.
His eyes lingered on the unlikely duo for a heartbeat longer than they should have. A faint crease formed between his brows, as though some unanswered question refused to leave him.
Then, without a word, he turned back and continued on.
Behind them, the young woman stood in silence.
"So... uh..."
"There was nothing else I could think of," the armored man replied.
"Oh... okay."
An awkward silence settled between them.
"Besides," he continued, "you have no reason to be upset, Your Highness. If I recall correctly, I did warn you to be careful."
"Hey! Don't pin this on me."
"How was I supposed to know those two would stop me and start questioning me?" she protested, a slight frown forming on her face.
He let out a quiet sigh.
"You stand out," he remarked. "It's no wonder they grew suspicious."
"You're one to talk," she thought, glancing at his towering frame encased in gleaming armor.
"By the way... were you successful?"
"I was."
"And you didn't give it to anyone else? You know what it can do."
She shot him an offended look.
"What do you take me for?"
"Yes, I was careful. I didn't give it to anyone except 'Her'."
"Is that satisfactory?"
"Oh, certainly, Your Highness."
"Stop calling me that!"
The man allowed himself a faint smile.
"Then all that's left is to wait until midnight," he said, his voice softening. "After that, we'll return... with Her Majesty, Grace."