Weeks passed in an unrelenting grind of labor and scrutiny. Cassie’s quiet efficiency became a point of bitter fascination among the staff. Where others stumbled, she succeeded. Every polished banister, every flawlessly arranged floral display, every spotless windowpane whispered of her unyielding discipline.

  Her peers whispered, too.

  “She’s not like us,” one maid muttered in the dim glow of the dormitory.

  “She’s trying too hard,” another sneered. “It’s unnatural. Like she’s—”

  “A spy?”

  The accusation hung in the air, absurd yet sharp enough to draw murmurs of agreement.

  Cassie, seated in her usual corner bunk, paid them no mind. She’d heard it all before: the resentment, the disbelief, the insinuations. Words couldn’t touch her—not when survival demanded she stay focused.

  It wasn’t long before her reputation reached the head maid, whose calculating eye lingered on Cassie more often during roll calls. The summons came one evening, slipped beneath Cassie’s door on heavy parchment sealed with the crest of the royal household.

  The dormitory buzzed with tension as she unfolded it under the flickering light.

  “You’re being reassigned,” one maid said, her voice low and edged with envy.

  “To the royal quarters,” added another, her tone dripping with disbelief.

  Cassie folded the parchment and rose, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she left the room, her footsteps a steady rhythm against the stone floor.

  The steward of the royal household was an imposing figure, his tall frame wrapped in austere black robes. He stood at a window overlooking the sprawling gardens, the evening light casting sharp angles across his face.

  Cassie waited near the door, her back straight, the summons clutched in her hand.

  “Enter,” he said without turning. His voice was crisp, a blade honed for command.

  She stepped forward, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. When she reached his desk, he finally turned, his gaze piercing.

  “Cassandra,” he began, his tone measured. “You’ve been reassigned to the Crown Prince’s household. This is not an honor—it is an obligation. His Highness is precise in all things. Your tasks will be performed to his standard, which is absolute perfection.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Cassie nodded once, her expression calm. “Understood.”

  “Good,” he said briskly. “Your first assignment is to organize His Highness’s study. The Prince values order and efficiency. If you succeed, you will remain in his service. If you fail…” His pause was deliberate, his meaning clear.

  Cassie didn’t flinch. “I won’t fail.”

  The steward’s lips twitched—perhaps the shadow of a smile, or perhaps disdain. “Dismissed.”

  The study was more like a sanctuary, its walls lined with bookshelves that stretched to the vaulted ceiling. Cassie entered with cautious steps, her senses absorbing the space: the faint scent of parchment and ink, the soft glow of sunlight filtered through stained glass, the deliberate arrangement of every piece of furniture.

  She approached the central desk, where a scatter of papers disrupted the room’s meticulous order. Her fingers brushed over the edges of trade agreements, military correspondence, and sealed missives marked with the royal crest.

  Though tempted to linger, she forced herself to work quickly. Loose documents were sorted and filed, books returned to their proper places, and a map of the kingdom smoothed and pinned to its frame.

  She worked in silence, her movements precise, her mind calculating the task like a puzzle. As she reached for a particularly weighty ledger, the door creaked open behind her.

  Cassie froze. The Crown Prince entered the room, his presence as commanding as the rumors that preceded him.

  Theodoric Vonbern moved with the assurance of someone who controlled the air itself. His dark eyes scanned the study, sharp and calculating, before settling on her.

  Cassie lowered the ledger, her stance carefully neutral. “Your Highness,” she said, inclining her head.

  He approached the desk, his gaze flicking over the neatly arranged piles she’d created. He lifted a document, his lips tightening slightly as he skimmed its contents.

  “You’ve brought order to this chaos,” he said finally, his tone measured.

  Cassie met his gaze briefly before looking away. “I only organized what was already here.”

  A faint smirk touched his lips. “Modesty is a rare quality. Do not mistake it for a virtue.”

  He lingered a moment longer, his eyes lingering on her with an intensity she couldn’t ignore. Then, without another word, he turned and left, his cloak sweeping behind him.

  Cassie exhaled quietly, returning to her work with steady hands.

  The corridor outside the study was dimly lit, the sconces casting uneven shadows on the stone walls. Cassie carried a small bundle of linens, her footsteps measured as she made her way back to the servants’ quarters.

  She was halfway there when a voice stopped her.

  “You.”

  Cassie turned to see a woman standing at the end of the hall, her pale gown shimmering like a blade in the low light. It was Esther, the Crown Prince’s fiancee—a figure as sharp-tongued as she was beautiful.

  The woman’s lips curled into a cold smile. “I hope you’re enjoying your new position.”

  Cassie said nothing, her expression unreadable.

  Esther stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the stone. “I don’t know what you’ve done to earn the Prince’s attention, but let me make something clear.” Her voice was low, venomous. “You don’t belong here. People like you never do.”

  Cassie held her ground, her grip on the linens tightening. “I’m here to serve,” she said evenly.

  The woman’s smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Serve. Yes, that’s all you’ll ever do. If you value your place, stay silent. Stay invisible. And stay far away from His Highness.”

  With that, she turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Cassie alone in the empty hall.

  For a moment, Cassie stood still, her breath steady despite the tension coiled in her chest. Then she resumed her walk, her steps as deliberate as ever.

  Whatever was brewing in the royal court, she had no intention of letting it overwhelm her. Not yet.