The doors to the royal chambers slammed shut, sealing the King and Queen in a bubble of shared panic. For a long moment, the only sound was the King's heavy breathing and the Queen's frantic pacing on the marble floor.
"This is a catastrophe!" King Darius finally bellowed, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. He began to pace as well, a trapped lion in a gilded cage. "First, the Sunstone Alliance is in tatters because of our 'grumpy prince,' and now the entire senior staff decides to retire on the same day? The castle will grind to a halt! Who will press my royal robes? Who will ensure the royal linens are scented with lavender? Mrs. Gable has been doing my laundry for thirty years!"
"Darius, calm yourself!" Queen Isolde commanded, stopping her own pacing to face him. "This is not about your lavender-scented sheets. This is a sign. An omen! The old guard is leaving. The old ways are failing us." She placed a dramatic hand over her heart. "They have given their entire lives to us. We cannot simply cast them out into the cold."
"I'm not casting them out! They're casting themselves out!" the King roared, his face turning red again. "They're abandoning us! In our hour of need! I should have them all… I should…" He trailed off, unable to think of a suitable punishment for people who had simply gotten too old.
The Queen's expression softened into one of tragic sympathy. "No, my love. We must be benevolent. We will grant them their retirement. With a full royal pension, of course. Let them live out their final days in comfort. It is the only humane thing to do."
The King deflated, the anger draining out of him to be replaced by a profound sense of defeat. He sank into a plush armchair. "A pension. Fine. But what are we to do now? The castle cannot run on ghosts and good intentions."
"We hire new ones, of course," the Queen said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
The King's head snapped up. "New ones? Young ones? Do you have any idea how long it takes to train a new chambermaid? They'll break the antique stone They'll get lost in the west wing! They'll—"
He stopped. Because his wife was no longer looking at him. Her gaze had turned distant, her eyes wide with that terrifying, manic gleam he knew all too well. It was the same look she'd had right before she'd tried to teach the royal peacocks to sing the national anthem.
"Darius," she whispered, her voice filled with sudden, electrifying inspiration. "You… you're a genius."
"I am?" the King asked, completely bewildered.
"New ones!" she repeated, her voice rising with excitement. "Young ones! From all over! Not just the children of our current staff, who are all stuffy and born to service. No! We need fresh blood. We need… we need a selection!"
A cold dread crept up the King's spine. "Isolde, what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking," she said, grabbing his hands, her eyes blazing, "that our son refuses a princess because he finds them too perfect, too 'jewel-like.' So, we will bring him the opposite! We will hold a Royal Maid Recruitment! We will search the entire Dragonfly World for five young, healthy girls to serve in this castle!"
The King stared at her. It was the most insane, illogical, and utterly desperate plan he had ever heard. It was a disaster waiting to happen.
And he loved it.
"It's madness," he breathed, a slow grin spreading across his face. "It's undignified. It's… exactly what this stuffy castle needs."
Without wasting another second, Queen Isolde clapped her hands sharply. The sound was sharp and clear, a signal that was answered instantly. From the shadows near the tapestries, two figures emerged, clad in dark, unassuming clothes. They were the Royal Informants, the ears and voice of the crown, masters of whispers and dissemination.
"You summoned us, Your Majesty?" one of them asked, his voice as soft as falling ash.
"Prepare a decree," the Queen commanded, her voice filled with purpose. "I want posters. Hundreds of them. The Royal Decree for the Aethelgard Castle Maid Recruitment. We are seeking five young female attendants. Ages eighteen to twenty-five. Must be in good health and of strong character. The reward is a lifetime salary and a place to live within the castle walls."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And I want you to spread this news to every corner of the Dragonfly World. From the fishing villages on the coast to the mining towns in the mountains. I want every girl, from every walk of life, to see this. Go. Use the fastest dragons. I want this news to be a wildfire by morning."
The informants bowed and melted back into the shadows, gone as quickly as they had appeared.
The Queen turned back to her husband, a triumphant smile on her face. "We cast the net, my dear King. And we will see what we catch."
Far away, in a small, dusty village, a poster was nailed to the community notice board, right next to a notice about a lost goat. The ink was still fresh.
ROYAL DECREETHE CROWN OF AETHELGARD SEEKS FIVE ROYAL MAIDS
Are you young, vigorous, and seeking a life of purpose? The Royal Castle of Aethelgard has openings for five female attendants.REQUIREMENTS:
Age: 18-25 Good health and strong character No prior experience necessary
REWARD:
A generous lifetime salary.Room and board within the Royal Castle.The opportunity to serve the Dravenheart dynasty.
All corners of the Dragonfly World are welcome to apply. Present yourself at the Aethelgard Grand Gate in one fortnight's time.
Signed,Her Royal Majesty, Queen Isolde Dravenheart
The Queen's decree spread like wildfire. Carried on the wings of the fastest messenger dragons, the news of the Royal Maid Recruitment reached every corner of the Dragonfly World, touching the lives of five very different young women.
🌻 In Clover Village…
Rina Cloverfield, her short, brown hair tousled by the wind, was in the middle of a game of tag, her laughter echoing through the dusty lanes. She was faster than all the younger children, her bare feet kicking up little clouds of dirt as she dodged and weaved. Her fun was interrupted when she noticed a crowd gathering by the old oak tree, where the village notice board stood. Murmurs rippled through the small group.
Driven by boundless curiosity, Rina skidded to a halt and squeezed her way through the legs of the villagers. "What's all the fuss about?" she chirped, craning her neck to see.
And there it was. A fresh, crisp parchment with the royal seal.
Her eyes scanned the words, not really reading them until one phrase jumped out: "a generous lifetime salary."
Her breath caught. A lifetime salary. She thought of her grandmother, coughing in her bed, of the failed crops, and of the empty coin jar at home. This wasn't just a job; it was a lifeline. A solution.
A determined glint entered her bright eyes. "I have to do this," she whispered to herself.
🌾 In the Fernwell Hills…
Talia Fernwell crouched on a rocky outcrop, her long, red hair whipping in the wind like a banner of flame. Her gaze was sharp as a hawk's. Below, her village's dragon, a majestic Forest Drake named Ember, slumbered in a sunbeam. She was on watch, guarding him from the royal patrols that hunted her kind for sport.
A flash of light in the sky caught her attention. A royal courier dragon, sleek and arrogant, soared overhead. A small piece of parchment slipped from its satchel, fluttering down on the wind like a wounded bird. It landed right at her feet.
She picked it up with disdain, her lip curling at the royal crest. "Royal trash," she muttered. But her eyes scanned the text anyway. Royal Castle of Aethelgard… five young female attendants…
A slow, dangerous thought began to form in her mind. The castle… the heart of the enemy's operations. They would never suspect a simple maid. It was the perfect cover. The perfect way to get inside, to find the proof she needed to expose their cruelty.
Her fists clenched around the poster. This wasn't a job application. It was a declaration of war.
🔥 In the Ancient Dragon Valley…
Lyra sat by a sparkling stream, her long, dark brown hair falling over her shoulders, a stark contrast to her pale, almost ethereal skin. Her human form felt clumsy and foreign. She was far from any human settlement, simply watching the world, her thoughts far away, focused on one person: the prince with the kind eyes who had saved her when she was a wounded, helpless dragon.
A gentle breeze carried a scrap of paper to the mossy ground beside her. It was the same poster that now littered the kingdom. She tilted her head, her otherworldly beauty serene. She couldn't read all the human words, but she recognized the symbol of the Dravenheart crest. And she recognized the name: Aethelgard Castle.
Her heart, which had felt so heavy and lonely, suddenly felt as light as a feather. It was a sign. A gift from the heavens. A path had been opened for her, a way to finally be near him, to repay her life debt, to serve him as she was always meant to.
A sweet, serene smile bloomed on her face, one that held a terrifying, unwavering devotion. "Aiden," she whispered to the wind, "I am coming."
🌙 In the Great Library of Silverport…
Eira Moonveil sat in a silent alcove, surrounded by towering shelves of ancient scrolls. Her long, silver hair was braided intricately, glinting in the dim light like a captured moonbeam. She was an island of calm in a sea of knowledge, her delicate fingers tracing the faded ink of a prophecy. "A prince shall awaken the Dragon's Heart…"
An old human scholar, a colleague of sorts, cleared his throat beside her. "Master Eira, forgive the interruption. I saw this and thought you might find it… amusing." He handed her a freshly printed poster.
Eira took it with a polite nod. Her eyes, calm and analytical, scanned the document. She processed the information with cold, logical precision. Royal Castle of Aethelgard… Prince Aiden… direct access to the royal archives and the prince himself.
The scholar saw a job posting for a maid. Eira saw a research opportunity of unparalleled value. It was the most efficient way to observe her subject and gain access to restricted texts. It was the logical next step in her investigation.
She set the poster down beside the ancient prophecy and gave a single, decisive nod. The variables had aligned.
🦇 In the Shadowed Alleys of Noctis Port…
Seraphine Noctalis pulled her cloak tighter, the hood casting her face in deep shadow. A single strand of her long black hair escaped the hood, contrasting sharply with her pale skin. The port city was noisy, dirty, and reeked of fish and humanity. It was a perfect place to hide, but every creak of floorboards, every distant shout, made her ancient heart race with the fear of discovery.
Her eyes, accustomed to the dark, spotted a piece of paper fluttering from a lamppost. It was bright and official-looking. Normally, she would ignore such things. But the words "Room and board within the Royal Castle" caught her attention.
Her mind, sharpened by two centuries of survival, worked instantly. The Royal Castle of Aethelgard. The most secure, most guarded, most unlikely place in the entire world for a vampire to hide. Who would ever think to look for a creature of the night among the servants of the day? It was the ultimate sanctuary. The perfect disguise.
A small, mischievous, and utterly relieved smile touched her lips. She would become a ghost in the brightest house in the kingdom. It was too perfect to refuse.