By the third week, on the seventh day of the sixth month, the palace basked in clear daylight. It was a rare moment of ease—the weekend—when the ladies of the household were granted a single day of rest within the maidservants' quarters. Elira's room had become lively, filled with soft laughter, hushed excitement, and overlapping chatter as the women gathered together, eager to share stories of what had been witnessed the night before.
The room buzzed with energy, voices rising and falling as rumours passed from one maid to another. Elira sat among them, surrounded by familiar faces, all of them dressed alike in their rest-day attire: long black gowns that brushed the floor, square necklines framing modest white blouses beneath, short ruffled sleeves peeking through, and lace-up bodices drawn neatly at the front. It was a strict dress code they all followed on their day of rest—simple, uniform, and unmistakably theirs.
"Eliraaaa! I saw you with the prince last night—both of you looked so happy!" Loren exclaimed, her voice ringing with excitement as she leaned forward.
Loren was one of Elira's fellow household maids, and beside her sat Elsa, nodding eagerly. The two of them had indeed seen it—the rare sight of a maid conversing so confidently with a prince. Such moments were almost unheard of, yet Elira had stood there as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Elira quickly raised both hands, palms open, making a gentle calming gesture as laughter and teasing remarks rippled through the room. Her lips curved into a nervous smile, though her heart fluttered beneath her composed exterior.
They mustn't know how close Cassian and I really are, she thought, her chest tightening slightly.
Bea, seated beside her, watched the scene with quiet amusement. She already knew the truth, and the knowing glint in her eyes made Elira even more cautious.
"Elira, tell us—what were you talking about with the Crown Prince?" Elsa asked dreamily, pressing both palms against her cheeks as though trying to contain her excitement. Around them, several maids exchanged giddy glances, clearly thrilled by the mere idea of Elira sharing words with the heir to the throne.
Elira let out a soft laugh, one that sounded lighter than she felt. "It was just a coincidence," she replied, forcing a casual tone. "The prince and I happened to be walking in the same direction. He only noticed that I was still new to the palace."
Her smile held, though it was carefully measured. She could not afford suspicion—one careless truth could place her in an uncomfortable position.
A few girls continued chatting, sharing their own fleeting encounters with the prince. Cassian was known to be approachable, even kind, especially towards the palace staff. It was a reflection of the Empress herself, who strictly forbade cruelty or mistreatment among servants. She tolerated no bullying, no matter how subtle, and her watchful presence ensured order throughout the household. Because of her, the palace ran smoothly—maids and butlers alike carrying out their duties with respect and quiet harmony.
As the chatter flowed on, a sudden knock echoed against the door.
The room fell silent.
All eyes turned as the door opened, revealing a tall woman with rust-coloured hair cut neatly at her shoulders, warm brown eyes, and pale skin. She was Ana, the assistant to the head maid. Her presence alone was enough to command attention.
"Elira," Ana called, her voice calm yet firm.
"Yes, ma'am," Elira replied at once, rising from her seat. The sudden summons startled her, and she smoothed her skirt instinctively.
"Madam Jovana wishes to see you. Someone has come to visit," Ana said coolly.
Elira blinked in surprise. A visitor? She had been working in the palace for a month now—who would seek her out?
She turned back to the others, lifting her hand in a small wave as the women began dispersing, returning to their own quarters. Bea gave her a knowing look before leaving as well. Once alone, Elira followed Ana downstairs, her footsteps echoing softly through the corridors.
They soon reached the administrative chamber—the main office of the head maid, Madam Jovana. Ana opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Elira to enter.
The moment Elira crossed the threshold, her eyes widened.
Madam Jovana sat behind her desk, composed as ever. Beside her, seated comfortably with a warm smile, was a familiar figure.
"My daughter."
Mrs Joana rose swiftly from her chair and crossed the room, pulling Elira into a tight embrace. The sudden affection stole Elira's breath for a moment.
"Oh… Mrs Joana," Elira said softly, confusion colouring her voice as she glanced briefly at Madam Jovana, who merely smiled in response.
"I wanted to visit you," Mrs Joana said, holding Elira at arm's length and inspecting her face. "To see how you're doing here. Has my younger sister been hard on you? Has she bullied you?"
Her lips puckered in exaggerated concern, clearly hoping Elira would confess some grievance.
Elira laughed lightly, placing a reassuring hand on Mrs Joana's shoulder. "No, Mrs Joana. I'm doing well. Everyone here has been kind to me," she replied honestly, her smile gentle.
"Are you sure?" Mrs Joana pressed, her expression turning dramatically disappointed. "Perhaps my sister is threatening you?"
"You're overreacting sister," Madam Jovana interjected, rubbing her forehead with clear exasperation. "You're behaving like a child."
"Anyway—"
Bang!
The door burst open with a loud crash.
"Mother!"
"Nanny!"
Elira's words were cut short as she spun towards the entrance. Her hair, neatly tied into a bun, shifted slightly as loose strands slipped free near her ears. Her eyes widened in shock.
Standing there were two familiar figures—her dearest companions—rushing into the room with urgency written across their faces. They had come for Mrs Joana, yet froze the moment they realised who else stood before them.
"Oooh…" Madam Jovana murmured, adjusting her spectacles. "I never expected the son of the Supreme Commander—and even the Crown Prince himself—to be this eager to see you, sister."
Though Cassian and Sylas had intended to visit Mrs Joana, it was Elira's presence in the head maid's office that truly caught them off guard—an encounter none of them had anticipated.
"Mother… why are you here?" Sylas, the youngest son of Mrs Joana, stepped forward, his hands grasping hers with a warmth that spoke of relief and affection. Elira instinctively took a step back, giving them space to reunite, her gaze softening as she watched the mother and son reconnect.
"Yes, Nanny… why the sudden visit?" Cassian asked, confusion flickering across his face as he glanced at Elira, then shifted his attention back to Joana, curiosity mixed with caution in his expression.
"Silly…" Joana waved a hand, amusement dancing in her eyes. "I am here to visit Elira. By the way, have you met her already?" she asked, her voice light but curious.
"Yes, Mother. We met her quite by chance," Sylas replied, a faint, fond smile tugging at his lips.
"But how?" Joana's eyes sparkled with curiosity, her tone gentle yet insistent.
Soon, they all settled into a small settee, a round table at its centre laden with delicate snacks, cookies, and chocolates—Elira's favourite treat, thoughtfully brought by Joana herself. The administrative room seemed to glow with warmth and comfort, the gentle clinking of tea cups punctuating their conversation. Elira found herself seated beside Joana, with Jovana beside her as well. Across from them sat the two young gentlemen—Cassian and Sylas.
It was an unusual and rare gathering, the air alive with conversation and laughter, yet tinged with a certain intimacy. Elira could hardly believe her eyes; even the famously strict head maid, Jovana, revealed a side that was unexpectedly kind and jolly.
"So, that's how you three ended up meeting?" Joana asked, a soft amusement in her voice, eyes twinkling.
"Indeed, Nanny," Cassian said, pride lifting his tone. "I'm glad I caught her in my arms." He leaned back, a smug smile tugging at his lips. Sylas merely rolled his eyes, taking a calm sip of his tea, while Elira let out a small, nervous chuckle.
"You should be grateful, my Prince, that no one dared report this to your mother," Jovana interjected, her voice cold and measured. Elira felt a shiver run down her spine, wondering what consequences might await if the Empress ever discovered Cassian's audacity.
"So, what? She'd eat me alive?" Cassian said, waving a hand irritably, a teasing smirk curling his lips.
"Is it a sin, Madam?" Elira tilted her head, curiosity glinting in her eyes as she glanced toward Jovana, who observed her with calm, steady eyes hiding a seriousness beneath.
"The Empress only intends that Cassian never endures the hardships she once faced," Jovana explained softly. Her words made Elira's curiosity spike even higher, imagining the trials the Empress must have suffered as a commoner before her rise.
"Why?" Elira asked, leaning forward slightly, her gaze intent. Sylas and Cassian exchanged glances, equally eager to hear the story.
Jovana set her tea down, drawing a deep breath before speaking. "When the Emperor forcibly married the Empress, given the vast differences in their social standings, she faced immense criticism in the harsh reality of noble life. So much so that she once… tried to hurt herself. Even the Emperor struggled to protect her and assert his position."
Cassian's eyes widened. He had never heard such a story about his mother before. Sylas's gaze flicked between his friend and Jovana, sensing the unusual tension in the air.
"Indeed," Joana added, her tone softening with sympathy. "There was a time when powerful nobles tried to pressure the Emperor into taking a concubine. The Empress was too fragile then; she could not bear any children for him." Her voice held pity and reverence, a rare vulnerability that gave Cassian pause. Until now, he had never realised the full weight of his mother's past struggles.
"Did my mother suffer so much?" Cassian asked, curiosity tinged with concern. Both Joana and Jovana exchanged measured glances, weighing how much to reveal. Yet, they knew it was time for the Crown Prince to understand the truth of his mother's hardships.
"Yes," Jovana admitted, her voice calm but firm. "But your father fought for her, for the Emperor himself was deeply in love with your mother, Your Highness." She smiled gently.
"Thanks to my sister's guidance," Jovana continued teasingly, "the Empress managed to give birth to a stubbornly healthy heir—you, my Prince." She chuckled, earning a smirk from Cassian and a shared laugh from Elira and Joana.
"But why did the Empress never give birth again?" Sylas asked suddenly, a note of surprise in his voice.
"Because her body was too frail," Jovana said coldly, the weight of the revelation hitting them all. Elira, Sylas, and Cassian were momentarily stunned, the room falling into a thoughtful silence.
Cassian felt his chest tighten. Understanding now the pressures his mother endured as the sole bearer of the imperial heir, he realized why she had been so strict with him. Yet, despite this awareness, his heart betrayed him—a longing stirred at the sight of Elira, her cheerful composure, her laughter, and the gentle way she spoke with Joana and Jovana. What if… we survive as my parents did? he thought, feeling both foolish and fearful. He lowered his gaze, cheeks burning as he tried to hide the tumultuous emotions stirring within him.
Yet one thing Cassian did not notice: Sylas had been watching him the entire time. A strange, uneasy feeling settled in Sylas's chest, a knot of jealousy and confusion he could not ignore.
Don't tell me… he's in love with her?
~Sylas