Morning light slipped through the small window of Ros's room. She woke up with a jump, her heart beating fast. Today was the first full day in the noble house, and she felt both nervous and curious.
She looked at her reflection in a small round mirror on the wall. The face was still soft and young, but she pulled her dark hair back tightly. No one could see that she was really a girl. Now, she was Ros—the boy who would have to learn many things fast.
The door creaked open, and the duchess appeared. Her blonde hair was perfect, and her eyes were sharp like an eagle's. "Get dressed, Ros," she said. "You have your duties."
Ros hurried to put on the plain clothes left for her: a loose shirt, pants that were too long, and boots that made loud noises when she walked. She tried to pull the pants higher, but they slid down each time she moved. She muttered, "Great… big boy clothes."
Downstairs, the kitchen was warm and smelled like fresh bread and herbs. A tall woman with kind eyes and rough hands was already working by the stove. "Good morning, Ros," she said. "I'm Marta. I'll teach you the house chores."
Ros nodded. She was thirsty for knowledge, but the long list Marta gave her made her palms sweat. "Wash the floors. Clean the windows. Help with cooking. Carry messages. And be quiet."
"Quiet?" Ros whispered. "Even when I want to shout?"
Marta smiled. "Especially then, boy."
The day began with sweeping. Ros swung the broom like it had a mind of its own. She missed parts of the floor and hit a chair, nearly tipping it over. Marta laughed softly. "Careful, or you'll bring the whole room down."
Next was washing dishes. Ros held a big basin of soapy water and tried to wash a heavy pot. The water splashed everywhere—on the floor, on her pants, and once, on Marta's foot. "Oops," Ros said, rubbing the back of her neck.
Sebastian appeared then, walking through the kitchen doors. He raised an eyebrow at the mess. "You're making a river," he said, smiling a little.
Ros grinned back. "At least it's clean water."
Sebastian helped dry the pots and joked, "You're the best mess-maker I've seen. Maybe you should teach us."
Ros laughed, the first real laugh since she arrived. It felt good to be silly sometimes, even if it was by accident.
After chores, Marta said, "Time to learn to carry a tray. Important for the noble house."
Ros took the tray carefully but forgot how heavy the stew bowls were. When she walked toward the dining hall, one bowl slipped, splashing soup on her boots and the floor.
"Oh no!" she shouted—but remembered quickly to be quiet.
The duchess appeared just then, her eyes wide. "What happened?"
Ros looked down, cheeks burning. "I'm sorry, my lady. It was an accident."
The duchess's lips pressed in a thin line. "You will learn, or this house will be too much for you."
Ros nodded, feeling small again. But inside, she swore to try harder.
During the afternoon, Ros carried messages between the rooms. Some were simple. "Tell the gardener to water the flowers." Others were longer, and she had to remember every word.
Sometimes she mixed the messages up. Once, she told the gardener to water the horses. The gardener looked puzzled, but smiled and went to the stables.
Sebastian found her and said, "You really are different, Ros. But maybe that's not so bad."
Ros smiled. "Different can be a good thing. Right?"
He nodded slowly. "Maybe."
The sun lowered, and the house grew quiet. Ros sat in her small room, rubbing her tired hands. The day was filled with new things, hard work, and a few messy accidents.
She thought about the two brothers. The older one was like a sharp sword—cold and quick to judge. Sebastian was like a river—sometimes calm, sometimes rushing, but always moving forward.
Ros took a deep breath. This was her new life. A life full of hard lessons, new names, and secret hopes.
And maybe, just maybe, a little fun if she didn't mess up too badly.
She smiled to herself, whispering, "One day, I'll be the one teaching you."
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