Isolde stormed up the stone stairs to the Lord's wing, her boots echoing in the empty hall. Her new quarters were better than the servant's closet, bigger bed, a real table, windows that let in moonlight, but she barely noticed.
Her mind was stuck on Rowan, on the garden, on his words. "I still care about you." How dare he say that? How dare he act like he cared after everything? She slammed the door behind her, leaning against it, her breath coming fast.
She paced the room, her cloak still on, her hands clenched. He'd grabbed her hand, looked at her like he wanted to pull her close. Part of her, the stupid part, had felt something twist inside, a flicker of the old feelings. But she'd pushed it down. He didn't get to do that. He didn't get to apologize and expect her to forgive. He'd signed the annulment, let Elsinore step in, moved on without her. A room upgrade didn't change that. It was just his way of easing his guilt, making himself feel better.
She sat on the bed, pulling off her boots. The argument replayed in her head. "I'm not your enemy," he'd said. Maybe not, but he wasn't her ally either. She needed to focus, on her claims, her allies, her plan. Rowan was a distraction, nothing more.
A knock came at the door, soft. Isolde tensed, her hand going to her dagger again. "Who is it?" she called.
"It's me, my lady," a young voice said. "The maid from last night. Lord Rowan sent me to serve you."
Isolde stood and opened the door. The girl stepped in, curtsying low. She was small, with wide eyes and a nervous grip on her apron. Up close, she looked about sixteen, her hair tied back in a simple braid.
"Come in," Isolde said, closing the door. "What's your name?"
The girl straightened, her voice steady, "Anna, my lady. Anna Reed. Lord Rowan assigned me as your personal maid. I'm here to help with whatever you need."
Isolde nodded, watching her. Anna moved quickly, going to the side table to light more candles. The room brightened, showing the polished wood and fresh linens. "Start with a bath," Isolde said. "I need to wash off this day."
Anna bobbed another curtsy. "Yes, my lady. The tub's in the side room. I'll draw the water."
Isolde watched as Anna hurried to the adjoining chamber, pumping water into the copper tub. Steam rose as she added hot stones from the hearth. The girl worked fast, her hands sure despite her age.
While Anna prepared the bath, she turned back to Isolde. "My lady, if it's not too bold, I want to say something."
Isolde raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
Anna clasped her hands, her eyes meeting Isolde's. "I'm loyal to you. I believe your story, everything you said in the hall. You're Lady Isolde Raventhorn, and I'm very glad you're back."
Isolde paused, surprised. Most servants kept their heads down, but Anna's words seemed genuine. "Why say that? You don't know me."
Anna's cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. "I do know you, my lady. I was eleven when you were here last. I served with my mum in the palace kitchens. You were kind to us, gave extra food when my little sister was sick, spoke up for mum when the steward yelled at her. I remember you clear as day."
Isolde's anger from the garden softened a bit. She remembered now, a skinny girl with braids, always trailing her mother. "You were the one with the freckles," Isolde said. "You helped her carry trays to me sometimes."
Anna smiled, "Yes, my lady. When we heard you died, I cried for days. My mum did too. We thought you were gone. But seeing you now, alive and strong, it's like a miracle. I'm happy you're back."
Isolde felt a warmth she hadn't expected. In this palace full of enemies, a loyal face was rare. "Thank you, Anna. That means more than you know."
Anna nodded, turning back to the bath. She added salts to the water, the scent of lavender filling the room. "The bath's ready, my lady. I'll help if you need."
Isolde stripped off her cloak and tunic, stepping into the tub. The hot water eased her tense muscles, but her mind still churned. As Anna folded her clothes, Isolde asked, "How's your mum? Still in the kitchens?"
Anna's face fell, her hands pausing. "She's gone, my lady. Died two years ago, with my baby brother. The birth went wrong, they both didn't make it."
Isolde's heart sank. She sat up in the tub, water sloshing. "I'm truly sorry, Anna. Your mum was a good woman, hard worker, always kind. I remember her, she always had a smile ready on her face, even on bad days."
Anna's eyes glistened, but she blinked it away. "Thank you, my lady. It was hard. Dad left after, couldn't handle it. I've been on my own since, working here."
Isolde reached out, touching Anna's arm. "You're not alone now. As long as I'm in this palace, I'll take good care of you. You'll have food, a safe place, whatever you need. I promise."
Anna's smile returned, brighter. "That's kind of you, my lady. More than I deserve."
"You deserve it," Isolde said firmly. "You're loyal, and that's worth more than gold here."
Anna knelt by the tub, washing Isolde's hair with gentle hands. As she worked, she spoke quieter. "Things changed after you left, my lady. The palace isn't the same."
Isolde leaned back, letting the water soothe her. "What do you mean?"
Anna glanced at the door, like someone might hear. "Lady Elsinore runs everything now. She's controlling, heartless to us servants. Yells for no reason, cuts our pay over small mistakes."
Isolde's jaw tightened. She'd seen Elsinore's cruelty last night, but hearing it from Anna made it worse. "Go on."
Anna rinsed Isolde's hair, her voice a whisper. "We used to eat three times a day, breakfast, lunch, supper. But Elsinore said it was too much, that we were lazy. Now it's once a day, thin soup and bread. Some get sick from it, but she doesn't care."
Isolde sat up, water dripping. Anger flared hot in her chest. "Once a day? That's criminal. Servants work all hours—they need food to stay strong."
Anna nodded, her eyes wide. "Yes, my lady. A few complained, but they got sent away. No one speaks up now."
Isolde's hands gripped the tub's edge. Elsinore, starving the staff to save coins or show power—it fit her perfectly. "You can eat from my table, Anna. As much as you like, whenever you want. I'll make sure of it."
Anna's eyes lit up. "Thank you, my lady. That's generous."
"It's right," Isolde said. "No one should go hungry here. There's more than enough food to go round, that's just pure cruelty."
Anna helped her out of the tub, wrapping her in a towel.
As Isolde dried off, she asked, "What about Rowan? Does he know about this? He wouldn't allow it."
Anna shook her head, folding the wet cloths. "He doesn't know, my lady. Lady Elsinore handles the household. She tells him twisted versions—says we're wasteful, that cutting meals saves money for the kingdom. He's busy with council and wars, so he believes her."
Isolde pulled on a clean tunic, her mind racing. Rowan, blind to Elsinore's games. It made sense—he'd always focused on bigger things, leaving the palace details to others. But hearing it confirmed her suspicions. Elsinore wasn't just scheming against her; she was hurting everyone.
"I'll talk to him," Isolde said. "This stops now."
Anna looked worried. "Be careful, my lady. Lady Elsinore has eyes everywhere. If she finds out I told you—"
"She won't," Isolde said, squeezing Anna's shoulder.
"You're safe with me. We'll handle this together."
Anna smiled, relieved. "I'm very grateful to you My Lady."
They sat at the table, Anna pouring tea from a kettle. Isolde sipped, feeling more settled. Having Anna here was a start—a loyal ear in the palace. She needed more like her, people who remembered the old days.
As they talked about small things—Anna's daily work, the other servants— a sudden knock came at the door, louder than before. Isolde froze, her hand on her dagger. Anna's eyes went wide.
"Who is it?" Isolde called.
No answer. The knock came again, insistent. Isolde stood, motioning Anna to stay back. She opened the door a crack, peering out.
The hall was empty, but a folded note lay on the floor, sealed with black wax. Isolde picked it up, her heart pounding. The seal was a raven—her family's sigil, but not one she recognized.
She closed the door, unfolding the note. The words inside were short, scrawled in rough ink: "They know now that you survived. Meet at dawn. The old gate. Come alone, or they'll finish what they started."
Isolde's blood ran cold.