Queen Isolde's declaration echoed in the sudden, stunned silence of the courtyard. The other teams slumped in defeat, their faces a mixture of jealousy and confusion. The judges just looked bewildered. King Darius, however, was staring at the winning team's plate, his eyes wide with hope. "Does this mean I get to eat it now?" he whispered to his wife.
But no one was listening.
For Rina, the Queen's words took a moment to sink in. We… we won? We're going to be royal maids? I can save Grandma? The realization hit her like a physical force. A sob, this one of pure, unadulterated joy, escaped her lips.
"YEAY! WE WON! WE WON!" she shrieked, tears of happiness streaming down her face.
Before anyone could react, she was a blur of motion. She launched herself at her nearest teammate, wrapping her arms around Talia's waist in a bone-crushing hug.
"We did it! We actually did it!" Rina bawled into Talia's shoulder.
Talia froze, her entire body as rigid as a statue. Her face turned a shade of red that matched her hair. "Get off me, you idiot!" she grumbled, but she made no move to actually push the crying girl away.
Rina, still sobbing with joy, flailed her free arm and managed to snag Eira. The elf mage, caught in the chaotic embrace, stood stiff as a board, her eyes wide with analytical shock. "Fascinating. A group bonding ritual…" she murmured, her voice muffled by Rina's hair.
Lyra, seeing her new teammates in a pile, smiled her serene, dreamy smile. She didn't quite understand the hug, but it seemed to be part of this "team" thing, so she joined in, gently patting Rina on the back.
Even Seraphine was pulled into the mess. She stood in the center of the chaotic group hug, an ancient vampire being squeezed by a weeping village girl, a blushing dragon rider, an analytical elf, and a lovesick half-dragon. She let out a long, slow, deeply put-upon sigh that she had been perfecting for over two centuries.
And through it all, Prince Aiden watched.
He saw the chaotic, mismatched, and utterly insane group of girls who had just tried to poison him, saved his life, and then cooked him a meal that had broken his brain. And now they were hugging and crying with joy because they got to serve him.
His face, which had been a mask of shocked curiosity, slowly transformed into an expression of pure, unadulterated horror.
This wasn't a selection. It was a sentence. And these five girls were his new, chaotic, wonderful, and terrifying prison.
The chaotic group hug finally broke apart, leaving the five new maids in a state of happy disarray. Rina was still wiping away tears of joy, Talia was pretending to be annoyed, Eira was observing the emotional fallout with academic interest, Lyra was staring lovingly at Aiden, and Seraphine looked like she needed a two-hundred-year nap.
But Queen Isolde's attention had already moved on. She turned from the winning team to the fifteen defeated candidates, who stood with slumped shoulders and disappointed faces. A cruel queen would have dismissed them. Isolde, however, was a performer.
"My dears! My dears, do not look so downcast!" she called out, her voice dripping with a syrupy, insincere sympathy. "You have all shown such… spirit! Such… unique creativity!"
She swept down the stairs from the balcony, her purple gown trailing behind her like a royal cloud. She stopped before the disheartened girls.
"While there can only be five winners, the Crown does not believe in wasted effort!" she announced, her voice ringing with a generosity that surprised everyone. "You have all traveled far and endured our… unconventional trials. You will not leave empty-handed!"
She clapped her hands. "Guards! Bring forth the consolation gifts!"
A line of royal guards came forward, carrying heavy wooden chests and large woven baskets. With a dramatic flourish, they opened them. Inside the chests were neat stacks of silver coins—more money than most of these girls had ever seen. In the baskets were high-quality food ingredients: sacks of fine flour, wheels of real cheese (that didn't squeak), and bundles of exotic spices.
A collective gasp went through the losing candidates. Their disappointment was instantly forgotten, replaced by wide-eyed shock and delight. Mumbled thanks and awed whispers filled the air.
Even King Darius looked pleased. "A very wise and cost-effective way to ensure public goodwill, my dear," he whispered to his wife, his eyes already on the plate of stew that was still sitting on Aiden's table.
But Prince Aiden wasn't watching the happy girls or the generous gifts. He was watching his mother. He saw how her performance turned a group of disappointed rivals into a crowd of grateful, loyal subjects. It was masterful. It was terrifying. And it was just another reminder of the gilded cage he lived in.
From his perch on a nearby turret, Nimbus's rumbled voice echoed in Aiden's mind.
Well, my lord. It seems your prison sentence has begun. And it comes with a cheering crowd.
Aiden watched his new five maids—his new, chaotic, and terrifying reality—being ushered towards the main castle by a senior steward. His life of quiet, sarcastic solitude was officially over.
He had a feeling things were about to get very, very noisy.
Aiden watched his new maids being led away, a sense of dread settling in his stomach like a stone. This was it. His quiet, predictable life was over. He was about to turn and follow, to resign himself to his fate, when a soft, pained sound made him freeze.
"Ahh… I can't… endure it anymore."
It was Seraphine. She was standing perfectly still, her back ramrod straight, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her face, usually a mask of serene elegance, was contorted in a grimace of pain.
Before Aiden could ask what was wrong, she moved.
It wasn't a walk. It was a glide. A smooth, predatory, and unnervingly fast movement that cut through the space between them. The remaining girls and even a few guards gasped, stepping back.
Aiden's combat training screamed at him. Another assassin! His body tensed, his hands raising to defend himself. "What do you want? Are you going to attack me too?" he asked, his voice sharp with panic.
Seraphine stopped directly in front of him, so close he could feel the cold aura that radiated from her. She looked up, her deep red eyes meeting his. They weren't just red; they seemed to glow with an inner, hungry fire.
"My apologies, Your Highness," she whispered, her voice a low, melodic rasp. And then, she smiled.
It wasn't a pleasant smile. It was a smile of pure, predatory instinct. Her lips parted, revealing two sharp, elongated canines. Fangs.
Aiden's mind went blank. Vampire. The elf was right. She's a vampire.
Before he could even process the thought, she moved. It was a blur of dark motion. One hand gently cupped the back of his neck, holding him in place. The other tilted his head to the side, exposing his throat. He felt a sharp, piercing sting.
"AAGH! WHAT IS THIS?! MOTHER, PLEASE!!" he yelled, his voice a mixture of shock, pain, and sheer terror. He tried to push her away, but her grip was like iron.
The courtyard erupted into chaos. Rina screamed. Talia cursed, reaching for a dagger she no longer had. Eira watched with wide, fascinated eyes, her mind already cataloging the event. Queen Isolde, however, just watched with a calm, analytical expression, as if observing a particularly interesting scientific experiment.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, Seraphine pulled back, a single, dark trickle of blood running down her chin. She licked her lips, her eyes closing in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. The pain on her face was gone, replaced by a serene, satisfied calm.
Aiden clutched his neck, staring at her in horror. "She… she bit me!"
Queen Isolde finally stepped forward, her expression not of anger, but of mild annoyance. She looked at Aiden, then at Seraphine.
"Consider it your punishment for running away this morning, Aiden," she said, her voice as casual as if she were commenting on the weather. "You've been marked. Now, you belong to the castle, and to the maids who serve it. Try not to bleed on the furniture."
A flush of color, almost human, returned to Seraphine's pale cheeks. She delicately licked the last drop of blood from her lips, her eyes closing in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. The pain was gone, replaced by a serene, satisfied calm.
She gave a slight, elegant curtsy to the horrified prince, as if he had just offered her a glass of fine wine. Then, without another word, she turned and glided back to rejoin the other four maids, standing as if nothing had happened.
Queen Isolde clapped her hands, completely ignoring the fact that her son had just been bitten by a vampire. "Excellent! Now, girls, if you'll all follow me, I shall show you to your new chambers!"
She turned and swept towards the main castle, expecting them to follow. The five new maids, after a moment of hesitation, hurried after her, a mixture of awe and fear on their faces.
Aiden was left standing alone in the middle of the courtyard, clutching his neck. He watched them go, his mind a complete blank. He slowly lowered his hand and looked at his fingers. There was no blood, just two small, red puncture marks on his skin.
He stumbled over to a nearby stone bench and sank onto it, his head in his hands. He looked up at the dragon perched on the turret.
"Nimbus… is there going to be an aftereffect? he asked, his voice a low, horrified whisper.
Nimbus rumbled, a sound that was suspiciously like a chuckle. "Oh, most assuredly, my lord. A slight… aftereffect.
"Augh… a side effect," Aiden groaned, letting his head fall into his hands.
As the five girls followed the Queen through the grand hallways of the castle, their footsteps echoed on the marble floors. The initial awe was quickly replaced by a tense, whispered confrontation.
Lyra, walking just behind Seraphine, leaned in close, her voice a low, dangerous hiss. "You touched… my Aiden."
Seraphine didn't even turn around. She kept walking, her voice a cool, dismissive whisper. "I was thirsty. I have been since yesterday."
The implication hung in the air, a clear and possessive claim. Lyra's hands clenched into fists, her dark eyes promising retribution.
Before she could retort, Rina, who was walking between them, threw her arms out and stopped them both. "Okay, okay, that's enough! Both of you, stop it!" she whispered urgently, looking back to make sure the Queen hadn't heard. "We're a team now! We're not supposed to fight!"
Lyra and Seraphine both fell silent, but they shot each other venomous glares over Rina's head. The fragile, chaotic peace of their new team was already threatening to shatter.