~ANYA’S POV~

The guards pulled me out of the van. They did not take me through the Grand front doors. Instead, they dragged me around to the shadows at the back of the building. We went down a set of dark, freezing concrete stairs, deep underground into the high-security holding block.

The air was bitterly cold and smelled like wet cement and bleach. We walked down a long, brightly lit corridor. The guard swiped a key card, and the heavy steel door beeped open. Inside was a small cell with barren concrete walls and a reinforced door.

They pushed me inside. I stumbled and fell onto the cold concrete floor. The guard slammed the heavy door shut, and the electronic lock engaged with a loud, echoing sound.

“Wait in here," the guard said in a cruel, mocking voice through the barrier window. “When we get news from the trauma team, we will know what to do with you. Pray to the heavens that the king wakes up, little girl. Because if his heart stops for good, yours will too."

The guard walked away, his heavy boots fading into the eerie quiet of the cell block.

I sat alone in the freezing room. I pulled my knees tightly to my chest and wrapped my arms around myself trying to preserve what little warmth I had left. I closed my eyes and prayed. I did not pray for my grand dream of the city anymore. I only prayed the king would open his piercing, icy blue eyes again.

That evening, I sat shivering in the freezing, windowless concrete holding cell deep beneath the palace. I hugged my knees to my chest and waited. I did not know what was going to happen to me.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy combat boots echoed outside. An electronic keypad beeped loudly, and the heavy steel security door swung open.

A Royal Guard in a sleek black uniform stepped into the cell. A woman followed behind him.

She was breathtakingly beautiful. She wore an elegant crimson designer dress that hugged her slim waist. Diamonds sparkled around her neck under the harsh fluorescent lights. But her face was twisted with pure anger.

I slowly got to my feet. Standing beside her, I felt so small. Her graceful posture and tall high heels only made me feel smaller. I opened my mouth, but before I could even say a single word…

The stranger raised her hand and slapped me across the face with brutal force. She hit me so hard that my head snapped to the side. A sharp, blinding pain shot through my jaw. Warm blood instantly filled my mouth.

I was so dizzy and confused. I slowly stood up straight again, my eyes wide. I wanted to ask why she hit me, but my voice was stuck in my throat. I was too shocked to speak.

Before I could even take a breath, she slapped me a second time, much harder than the first. Her heavy diamond rings dug into my cheek. The force pushed me backward. I lost my footing and fell hard into the cold concrete floor. I held my bleeding lip, looking up at her in total terror, still unable to make a sound.

“Shut your dirty mouth!" the woman shouted, even though I had not spoken a single word. She pointed a sharp, manicured finger right at my face. "You filthy peasant rat! If anything happens to the king, I will make sure you disappear. I will throw you into the river for the crocodiles myself.

She turned around and stormed out of the cell. Her designer heels clicked sharply on the concrete floor. The guard slammed the heavy steel door shut, and the electronic lock beeped, securing me inside again.

I lay on the freezing floor and I wept silently. The caramel skin of my cheek was swollen, bruised, and throbbing. That night, I knew my fate was sealed. My life was over. I would never get to experience life in the capital, and I would never go to a real school. My story was going to end in this dark, underground box.

A little while later, a small slot at the bottom of the door slid open. A guard pushed a stainless steel tray inside. It was my dinner.

I stared at the tray in disbelief. There was a warm roast pheasant, thick crusty white bread, and a flimsy plastic cup filled with clean water. It was the richest food I had ever had -– far better than the scraps of root vegetables I ate back at the Griggs cottage. But I felt so miserable and heartbroken that my stomach felt twisted into knots. I chewed on the soft bread, but I couldn't taste anything. It felt like eating dry sand.

For two days, I stayed in that cold cell. I never saw the sun. I did not know if it was day or night. I only sat on the hard floor, waiting for the guards to come and tell me the king was dead.

Then, on the afternoon of the third day, the heavy steel door finally opened.

A tall palace guard walked in. He did not look murderous this time. “Get up," he ordered gruffly.

I stood up, my small legs shaking. I thought he was taking me to be executed. But he didn't reach for the gun strapped to his thigh. He grabbed my arm and led me out of the holding block. We rode a sleek glass elevator up from the underground, finally stepping into the beautiful, sunlit parts of the royal estate.

He led me down a wide, brightly lit corridor with floor-to-ceiling windows, modern art, and plush red carpets. We stopped in front of a warm, clean maids' quarter.

The guard handed me a pile of folded clothes. “Go inside," he instructed. “Take a hot shower. Wash the dirt off your body and put on these clean clothes."

"Why?” I asked, my voice was barely a whisper. "Am I going to die?”

The guard looked down at me. "No. His Majesty seeks your presence.”

My heart jumped into my throat. The king was alive!

I quickly went into the room. I washed my dark hair and scrubbed the dirt off my skin in a luxurious, modern marble shower, though it took me a long time to gather courage to ask the guard how to use it. He later called a young maid to show me. The hot, steaming water felt like heaven in my sore, bruised muscles. I put on clean clothes. It was a simple floral gown. It fit my small body perfectly, and it was soft and incredibly warm.

When I was ready, the guard escorted me to a massive set of carved mahogany doors. Two Royal Guards pushed them open.

I walked into the grandest room I had ever seen. It was the royal audience hall, a breathtaking blend of modern architecture, expansive glass windows overlooking the city skyline, and imposing marble pillars.

At the far end of the room, sitting upon a sleek modern throne of dark leather and polished steel, was the King.

He looked terribly pale. He wore a dark tailored shirt that was slightly open at the collar, just enough to make room for the thick white bandages wrapped tightly around his injured chest. Captain Julian stood beside him, his hands clasped professionally behind his back.

But they were not alone.

~ANYA’S POV~

Standing near the base of the throne steps was a handsome prince, dressed in a sharp, tailored silver suit, watching the scene with quiet interest.

Opposite the prince, seated comfortably on an elegant velvet accent chair, was the vicious woman from the cell. She was wearing a sleek tailored emerald green designer dress. The moment I walked in, she crossed her legs and her eyes narrowed with pure, venomous hatred.

“Your Majesty, what is the meaning of this?" the woman snapped, her shrill voice echoing in the vast room. “Why is this filthy village rat still breathing in our palace? She should be locked away for life!"

My blood ran cold. I instinctively shrank back, terrified of this cruel, elegant woman who had tormented me earlier in the holding cell.

“Enough, Seraphina," King Alistair commanded. His voice was deep and rough, but it held such absolute authority that the woman immediately closed her mouth, though her eyes still burned holes into my skin.

I quickly dropped to my knees on the polished marble floor and bowed my head as low as I could.

The massive room went dead silent. I was terrified.

“Stand up," King Alistair ordered, his piercing icy blue eyes locking into me.

I slowly stood up, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor, doing my best to ignore Lady Seraphina's deadly glare.

“Captain Julian told me everything," the king said, his commanding presence filling the space. “He told me how your father gave you away as collateral, how your family traded your life to save their own necks.”

I bit my bruised lip to stop myself from crying. “They are not my real family, Your Majesty. I am an orphan. But they showed me mercy by taking me in, and I will always be grateful for that."

Lady Seraphina let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Pathetic,” she muttered.

The king's brow furrowed as he studied me. The handsome prince just tilted his head, watching me closely. The king watched my face for a long time. Even standing at a distance, that rich scent of cedarwood and winter air reached me, making my heart pound with nervous fear.

“I know you did not try to assassinate me," the king finally said. “If you wanted me dead, you would have left me to bleed out in the woods."

I looked up in pure shock, my eyes finally meeting his cold blue stare. He believes me!

“Because of that, I will not order your death," the king continued. His voice was strict, leaving no room for argument. “I will let you live. In fact, I will give you two choices."

"Choices, Your Majesty?” I asked quietly.

"Yes,” the King said, leaning forward on the throne. "The first choice: I will give you a large sum of money, and my guards will drive you back to your village, back to your family.”

My stomach dropped. Go back to Silas and Martha? The fact that they feel threatened by Captain Julian's words means they will kill me.

“And choice number two?" I asked.

The king's icy blue eyes seemed to flash as the light from the chandeliers hit them. His gaze held mine. My heart lurched, but I refused to look away. “Choice number two," he said. "You can stay here at the palace, and start working as a maid. If you want.”

He looked at me, waiting. The throne hall was quiet. Every eye in the hall settled on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a noblewoman gripping the armrests of her chair, her eyes intentionally staying on me. I looked away from her.

I did not even have to think about it. Go back to being beaten and sleeping in the freezing, drafty barn? I could not do it. I did not see a future for me in that village.

I remembered Clara's wicked lies. The wicked smiles on their faces when the guards took me. I would rather scrub marble floors in the palace, than ever go back to those monsters.

I took a deep breath, looked up at the king and spoke.

“I choose the palace, Your Majesty. I will stay."

When I said those words, the huge throne room became silent. The noblewoman scoffed loudly. She looked at me from head to toe with pure disgust.

"Why would you choose the palace, you dirty thing?” Lady Seraphina spat, her beautifully contoured face twisting with anger. “You do not belong here.”

"Seraphina,” the king said sharply. His deep powerful voice cut through the quiet room like a knife. He looked at Lady Seraphina with a strict, final warning in his cold blue eyes. "Watch your words."

Lady Seraphina froze. She didn't push any longer. She forced a fake, sweet smile on her face and looked back at me. Her tone changed trying to sound reasonable, but her eyes were still burning with hate.

“I mean… why would you do that?” Lady Seraphina rephrased her question. "Won't it be better to go back home? The King will compensate you greatly. You could be rich in your little village.”

I shook my head, desperately looking at the king. “I do not want to," I said, making sure my voice was steady. “I do not want to go back to that family. I want to save money and go to school.”

The room fell silent again, I could feel the king gaze on me. I did not dare to look up into his handsome face. But even while staring at the marble floor, I could feel those icy blue eyes gazing intently at me. Finally, he nodded once and ordered one of the guards to escort me to the maids’ quarters.

******

My new working life in the royal estate started that exact day. I handled the hard labor very easily. Polishing marble floors and laundering clothes in the high-tech utility rooms was a million times better than working for free and beaten in that barn. But I quickly learned that the palace was full of its own hidden dangers.

The biggest danger to me was Lady Seraphina. She despised seeing me. Whenever I was cleaning the main halls with other maids, she would walk right toward me in her designer heels, and roll her eyes. She would pull her expensive silk dresses close to her legs, acting as if just standing near me would infect her with dirt.

“Get out of my sight, you little rat," she whispered to me one morning as I was wiping down the grand glass staircase. “You think you are special because the king favors you? You are nothing but trash."

After that day, I tried my best to avoid her. I memorized all the hidden back hallways and service elevators used by the staff. If I heard the sharp, loud clicking of her stilettos echoing down a corridor, I would quickly duck into a supply closet or turn the other way. I just wanted to do my job in peace.

Luckily, I did not have to face palace life alone. I had Maya – the maid who had helped me figure out the shower on my first day.

Maya had worked at the palace for five years. She was the same age as me, beautiful with rich, warm brown skin and thick, curly black hair that she always tied up in a neat, professional bun. She had big, brown eyes that always looked happy.

After the first day in the bathroom, Maya took me under her wing.

I remembered my first official shift. I was standing in a huge, confusing hallway, struggling to carry a tall stack of heavy white towels. I was completely lost and sure that a security guard was about to yell at me.

Then Maya walked over with a warm smile. She took half the towels from my aching arms and promised to help me find my way around. Over the next few weeks, she taught me everything about the royal household. We became very close.

~Anya’s POV~

One afternoon, Maya and I were posted at the king's pantry while taking a short break. We were sitting at a small stainless-steel prep table in a corner. We are eating bowls of hot, thick potato soup mixed with sweet yellow corn. Beside the streaming soup, we had thick slices of warm brown bread spread with salted butter.

My face was completely relaxed, and for the first time in the time I had been in the palace, I had a big, genuine smile on my lips. Today wasn't very busy and I haven't laid eyes on Lady Seraphina for days.

“Eat more, Anya,” Maya said, pushing the tray of warm bread toward me. "You are still too petite. You need to build your strength.”

“This is the best food I have ever had," I replied, taking a big bite of the soft bread. “I still cannot believe I get to eat this every day."

Maya smiled, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners with joy. "So, tell me,” she said, intentionally leaning forward. “Why did you really choose to stay in this place? Most girls would take the envelope of cash and run far away. Palace life is exhausting.”

“I told the king the truth," I said softly, looking down at my soup. “My adoptive family treated me like a slave. If I went back with that money, Silas would just take it and keep treating me cruelly. I want to save the wages I earn here and pay for my own education.”

Maya looked at me with something that looked like deep respect. “You are very brave, Anya. But you must be careful here. Especially with Lady Seraphina.”

That exactly makes me ask the question that has been eating me up. “Why does she hate me so much?" I asked quietly. "I did not even do anything to her.”

"She is the Prime minister's daughter,” Maya explained, her voice dropping to an anxious whisper. "And the official Royal consort candidate for the king. Her family holds immense power, and everyone in the court expects her to marry the King and become Queen. She is viciously jealous of anyone who gets His Majesty's attention. And the King himself… he is very difficult right now.”

I frowned, lowering my spoon. “Difficult?"

She looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Nobody knows what really happened.” She whispered. "But the King can not sleep. His doctors do regular check ups on him but…” she shook her head. "The medicine they came up with only works sometimes. Even the Queen mother had arranged countless physicians for him, none was able to cure his condition except the medicine from the doctors. He just gets furious sometimes and completely loses control.”

Before I could ask anything else, our peaceful break was shattered.

Loud, aggressive noises echoed down the grand hallway outside the kitchen. We could hear heavy furniture hitting the floor and glass shattering into tiny pieces.

A group of senior maids came sprinting down the hall. They stopped right outside the kitchen looking absolutely terrified. The King was throwing things again. He was having another violent outburst inside his private suite.

A maid named Sarah stood at the front of the panicked group. Her pale skin was as white as a ghost. Her expression was pure panic. Her hands were shaking so wildly that the shiny silver tray she held was rattling loudly.

On the tray was a small porcelain cup with a fitted lid used to serve medicine. It must have been brought to him from the Queen Mother.

“It's a heavy sedative meant to force the king to sleep and calm his terrible rage," Maya whispered.

No wonder he refused to take it.

Sarah stared at the heavy wooden doors of the king's suite at the end of the hall. Then she looked back at the group of trembling servants. No one wanted to go anywhere near him. Finally, her terrified eyes locked onto me.

Before I could even step back, she ran over and shoved the silver tray directly into my hands. “You are the new girl, right?" she whispered, her breathing fast and shallow.

I stared at her, confused. Before I could react. “You go," she said. “Give the King the medicine."

My heart plummeted into my stomach. My hands began to shake immediately, making the water slosh dangerously inside the glass. Me? Why me my God? “Me? But he is breaking things!” I whispered, eyes wide with dread."

“We are all too scared to enter, but you are new. Who knows?" Sarah said quickly, taking large steps away from me. My eyes even widened. Out of everyone that is here. Why does it have to be me?! I cry internally. “If he does not take it right now, he will destroy the whole suite and someone could get hurt. Go!”

Without waiting for my answer, Sarah and the other maids quickly turned around and practically ran in the opposite direction, leaving me with Maya in the Grand hallway.

I bit my lower lip and looked at Maya. She was unconsciously biting her fingernails, her face drained of color. She looked like she was about to cry.

Without another word, I turned toward the huge, imposing doors of the king's suite. Another loud, violent crash echoed from inside, followed by a low swallowed hard. I looked down at the small porcelain cup on the silver tray.

My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to move forward. I took a deep, shaky breath, and slowly pushed the king's bedroom door open.

I stepped inside and eased the door shut behind me. The click of the latch sounded too loud in the sudden quiet.

I quietly slipped off my shoes. The room wasn't filled with rage. It was filled with grief. Dark wood, high ceilings, heavy curtains pulled shut against the daylight. A shattered vase lay in pieces near the window. The air smelled of smoke and spilled wine. For all its size, for all its wealth, the room felt empty. Hollow. Like someone merely survived here instead of living.

He was standing near the far wall, back to me, shoulders rigid.

“Get out." He roared and the sound made me jolt. A wine bottle sailed past me and shattered against the door, red liquid splashing across the wood and pooling on the floor at my feet.

I didn't move. I don't know where the courage came from. Every instinct in my body told me to run. But my feet stayed planted on the cold floor, and I stood there, holding the tray, waiting.

He noticed. Slowly, he lifted his icy blue eyes until they met mine.

The chandelier caught his face, his jaw cut like a blade, his features brooding in a way that made him almost unbearably handsome even now. His scent clung in the air, cedarwood and crisp winter air.

His eyes swept over me, from head to toe, before returning to my face. Looking at me the way someone looked at an object they weren't sure was worth the trouble.

“It was you." His voice was low, controlled in a way his temper clearly wasn't, and it sent a strange jolt through me anyway.

“Yes, Your Majesty." My hands trembled around the tray.

He said nothing for a long moment. Just looked at me, his gaze pinned in place like I was something to be studied rather than someone standing in his room.

“Time for my medicine, right?" he muttered.

“Yes, Your Majesty."

I glanced at the path between us. Broken glass littered the floor, catching the light in small, sharp glints.

“No." His voice cut through the room before I'd even taken a step to go around it. “You walk through it."

I froze, sure I'd misheard him.

“If you can't," he said, “you can go home. Tonight."

Instead a wave of anger rose inside me. I hated him. I hate that the man who had offered me a way out of my miserable life was now asking me to bleed just to deliver his medicine. But I thought of everything waiting for me if I walked back out that door with nothing to show for it, and I knew I wasn't leaving. I was not ready to give up.

I stepped onto the glass.

Pain exploded through my foot as the glass bit into my flesh. It shot up my leg with every step until I was standing in front of him, tray steady despite everything.

Something flickered across his face. Surprise? It was gone before I could be sure I'd imagined it.

“I like your energy," he said, and took the porcelain cup and drank the medicine in one gulp.

As he returned the cup, I turned and walked out, every step back across the broken glass sending fire up my leg. I didn't look back. But I could feel his eyes on me the whole way, and it stayed with me. When I reached my shoes I picked them up, and carefully walked out and shut the door behind me.