Seeing my shocked expression, he quickly lowered his hand, cleared his throat, and looked away.
"Is that a sign?"
I recovered from my surprise, hiding my smile. Honestly, if my phone were in my hand, I would have recorded that moment.
"It is a sign of good luck."
"Ah." He nodded.
Harry Hulk looked back at me, his gaze narrowing. For a second, I could have sworn his eyes dipped to my lips. I bit them without thinking, and he stilled.
"Isabel…" he murmured.
The way he said my name was low, almost breathless.
"Ye… yes?"
My voice trembled as I spoke, and he must have noticed, because he looked at me, then shook his head and turned away. His hand tightened around the armrest, his knuckles paling from the pressure.
Was he holding back? From what? I could handle anything he said. For a fleeting moment, it felt like I finally had a version of Harry who truly saw me.
Then he pushed himself to his feet and gently took the cup from my hands without meeting my eyes.
"You should go to sleep."
I pouted, watching him walk to the desk and set the cup down. He sank into his chair, picked up a stack of letters, and began reading as if I were no longer there.
In that instant, Harry Hulk returned. The distant boss. The untouchable man from the company.
A bitter laugh slipped from my lips. Of course. Back home, I was only his secretary, not some admired actress. Here, I was even less.
Just a maid.
I rose to my feet. He paused and slowly lifted his gaze. Something tightened in his eyes, as if looking at me cost him effort. I swallowed the sting in my chest and forced a smile.
"Well… thank you for tonight."
He nodded and returned his attention to the papers on his desk.
"The head maiden will assign you to your new room."
"You know, you don't really have to give me a new room." The thought of leaving Matilda, of being alone in some unfamiliar place, made my stomach twist. "Honestly, I will be fine where I am."
"I insist," he cut in, still not looking up.
I nodded. Arguing would get me nowhere. "Very well. Goodnight, then."
He said nothing, so I took that as my answer and walked toward the door. My fingers closed around the doorknob and then:
"Goodnight, Isabel."
I turned.
He was watching me now, a faint curve at the corner of his lips. My breath hitched before I could stop it. I masked it quickly and gave him a small nod, then hurried out of the library.
Damn… what handsome men could do to you.
********
My new room left me completely stunned. I turned to Matilda, shaking my head.
"Nope. This is not my room."
Honestly, I knew I was being foolish. Any sensible girl would have rushed in and claimed this space like royalty. The room looked fit for a princess of England. Yet I stood frozen at the doorway, unwilling to step inside.
Last night, after I left the King's library, I had gone straight back to the maidens' quarters. Matilda urged me to go to my new room, but I refused. Change scared me, even this new world, and this world was terrifying enough already. I had insisted on waiting until morning — but now that I was here, all I wanted was to turn around.
"It is yours," Matilda laughed softly, shaking her head. "The room is closer to the King's chambers. It will make your work easier."
She did not understand. I was a girl from the twenty-first century — blunt, careless with rules, and far too outspoken for this world. Being this close to the King meant I might say something reckless and lose my head.
No! No way!
Matilda moved past me toward the curtains and pushed them open. Sunlight flooded the room and I held my breath.
The bed stood in the center, covered with a deep maroon mattress. Beside it was a tall mirrored wardrobe. At the far end sat a polished, glinting luggage atop a small table. Even the floor gleamed with smooth marble.
"Is the King trying to marry me?" I blurted, turning to Matilda.
She walked back toward me and took the linens from my hands because I still refused to step inside.
"It is the only room I could find close to his," she said, reaching for an empty chest and folding my linens neatly inside.
"But Lady Tyra…"
Matilda sighed and turned to me. Her eyes carried that same pained look from yesterday, even though I had told her repeatedly that none of it was her fault.
"Being close to the King's chambers means you will be protected by guards. You are safe."
Phew. That was a relief.
She stepped toward me and took my hand. "I was wrong about keeping you away from the royals. It looks like the King truly intends to protect you."
Or maybe he still suspected me of being a spy, but I only smiled and nodded.
"I have to go now."
"Oh." My lips pushed out in a pout. Work never seemed to end in this world, and just when I finally had someone to talk to, she had to leave.
"We have begun preparations for the engagement ball."
Oh that? Hadn't the King said he had no intention of marrying Tyra? What had changed?
"If the ball is in a month, why prepare so early?" I asked, confused.
Matilda smiled faintly. "There is a lot to do, my dear. Decorations, gowns, arrangements, and many guests to receive."
She gave me a small bow and walked toward the door.
"See you soon, Isabel."
"You too, Matilda."
The moment the door closed, a long sigh slipped from my lips. Must be nice to be born royal — you probably never had to lift a broom in your life.
With my shoulders slumped, I scanned the room, but the sight of the bed made my lips curve into a grin.
"Why worry when you have a bed and a room like this?"
I flopped onto the mattress, closing my eyes as the softness swallowed my back.
"This is heaven… heaven… no, no… damn hell!"
A guard's voice suddenly called from outside, informing me that my assigned duty was to clean the King's library.
"Damn hell… this really has to be hell."
I followed the guard down the hallway, bucket in hand, my shoulders dragging low. We stopped in front of a polished door. He nodded toward it and left without another word.
I stood there, staring at the door with my lips pushed out.
Sigh… could I just get one day off? Just one?
I opened the door and stepped into a spacious study. Tall stained windows stretched from floor to ceiling at one side, pouring bright light across the room. A large study table sat next to the windows, with a small bookshelf beside it. Across the room was a cozy sitting area with a couch and a low table.
I set my bucket down, ready to begin cleaning when something on the desk caught my eye.
My eyes widened. There it was. The same large book I had seen before in his chambers, the one he had warned me not to touch. Sitting right in front of me, almost daring me to look at it.
What was it doing here? Was this a test?
I pointed at it, narrowing my eyes. "Tempt me not, you devil."
I shook my head and turned to start my task, but my gaze kept drifting back to the table.
"You know what… whatever happens, happens."
I dropped the bucket and hurried toward the desk. It wasn't just the book — there was an open parchment too. I hadn't meant to peek, but my eyes caught the words anyway. It was filled with court rules and orders. Boring.
I turned to the stacks of letters. There were so many. Thank heavens they were sealed with wax, who knows what my hands could have done.
That left only the book.
I raised my hands, it trembled so badly it might have been a warning to back off. But I ignored it and opened the cover. On the front page, a name was written in bold ink, in elegant Algerian font:
MARYANN.
I did not turn the page. I just stared at it, my chest tightening. Who was she? Probably a lover. Yeah… it had to be.
This might be an intimate book. Maybe I should close it. But curiosity won and I slowly opened it to the next page.
A short poem was written, nothing more than four paragraphs. There was no title, just the words:
Danger in crown,
The abstinence of duty.
But danger in heart,
The days of emptiness.
I closed the page, my heart hammering. Nope. He was writing about hearts, definitely intimate. She had to be his lover. I should stop. I should…
But it felt like a drug. I found myself opening the next page. Another untitled poem stared back at me:
The murmurs in hallways,
The quick tongues in throne rooms.
Decisions, duties day by day.
All cannot be compared to the loneliness I feel.
Loneliness… huh. What does that even mean?
"What are you doing?"