Chapter 62: Ch62 The Hidden Maid
The palace of Asme glittered under the midday sun, its marble walls shining like cut gems. High spires reached toward the sky, and wide terraces overlooked sprawling courtyards filled with fountains and well-tended flowerbeds. Royal banners rippled proudly from the battlements, their golden lion crests dancing in the breeze.
The palace guards moved in pairs along the corridors and garden paths, their armor gleaming with fresh polish. Some stood rigid at their posts, eyes sharp and hands resting on their spears, while others strolled in lazy patrols, their voices low as they exchanged idle chatter. Servants bustled about in the spaces between—maids with baskets of linens, cooks carrying trays, and errand boys darting through side passages.
Amid this daily bustle, a young servant girl with fiery orange hair walked briskly, balancing a wicker basket piled with freshly laundered clothes. Her plain dress swayed around her ankles, and the subtle sway of her hips caught the attention of a nearby guard.
The man stiffened instantly. His hand faltered on his spear, and the tips of his ears burned red as his eyes darted toward her and quickly away again. The orange-haired girl noticed. A small, playful smirk tugged at her lips.
"Good afternoon," she said sweetly, her voice carrying a singsong lilt as she stepped closer.
The guard froze, his composure unraveling with every step she took. His comrades tried to look away, hiding their smirks behind their helmets, but their shoulders shook with silent laughter. The girl leaned in just enough to brush her lips against the flustered guard’s cheek. His face turned the shade of a ripe tomato, and he stood frozen as though struck by a spell.
Her giggle rang down the corridor like silver bells. Hugging her basket closer, she skipped past them, her steps light and graceful. She basked in the momentary glow of attention, though the glimmer in her eyes hinted at amusement far sharper than innocence.
The corridor she entered next was quieter, dimmer. The polished floors reflected the shafts of sunlight that filtered in through the arched windows. It was here she caught the sound of whispers—two maids bent over their brooms, sweeping the tiles while gossiping in low, hushed tones.
"...I’m telling you, he looked half-dead," one whispered, eyes darting about to make sure no one else was near. "When the Crown Prince returned last night, he could barely stand. He was pale as a sheet!"
Her companion gasped. "Do you think it was another attack? Why else would the royal guards be so tight-lipped? They wouldn’t let us near the gates."
The first maid shook her head gravely. "Maybe... but then why didn’t anyone say anything? They acted like nothing happened. It’s suspicious."
The other maid’s tone shifted, growing dreamy. "Still, did you see Sir Eilan when he came back? Standing so tall, not a scratch on him, his sword gleaming like fire itself..."
The first maid giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Mhm! Compared to the Crown Prince, Sir Eilan looked like a true king. Strong, composed, handsome—"
"Shhh!" The second maid flushed and swatted her friend’s arm, though she was grinning ear to ear. "Don’t say such things so openly!"
The orange-haired servant lingered a few steps away, head tilted as though innocently curious, but her ears were sharp. The gossip was nothing but chatter to most, but she strained every word for something useful. The Crown Prince weak? Guards silent? Eilan praised? Hmph. Foolish girls, blinded by their own daydreams.
Before she could linger longer, a harsh voice cut through the corridor. "You two! Quit your whispering!"
Another maid appeared, arms crossed and eyes blazing. "Do you think floors clean themselves? Get to work before I tan your hides!"
The two gossiping maids jumped, scrambling to sweep properly as their cheeks turned crimson. The orange-haired girl pressed a hand to her lips, stifling a giggle as she continued on her way.
When she emerged into the courtyard, another maid spotted her. This one was red-faced, her hair mussed from running errands. "Why are you smiling like that?" she grumbled, adjusting the apron tied around her waist. "You think this day is good? It’s cursed. The king has ordered a feast tonight—Count Fiorie is coming to the castle. Do you know how much work that means for us?!" She kicked a loose stone with enough force to send it clattering across the cobblestones.
The orange-haired girl tilted her head, her smirk softening into a gentle smile. "Oh, cheer up. At least we’ll get to see Second Prince Eilan blush when the ladies praise him. Isn’t that worth it?"
The other maid’s eyes widened, her face brightening as she clasped her hands together. "Eilan? Blushing? Oh, saints above, that would be adorable..." She trailed off into daydreams, her earlier frustration forgotten.
The orange-haired girl laughed lightly, placing her basket on the laundry top. She waved to the maid. "I’ll be back later. I’m going to chat with one of the knights."
"Bring back some gossip!" the maid called after her.
"I will!" she answered cheerfully, turning a corner and disappearing from sight.
The cheer drained from her face the instant she was alone. Her smirk twisted into something sharp and cruel. She spat the words like venom. "Useless chatter. Not a shred of real information."
A swirl of black smoke erupted around her, coiling like snakes until the orange-haired disguise dissolved. In its place stood Mina, her true form cloaked in shadow, her black hair glistening faintly in the fading light. She exhaled, her crimson eyes narrowed with annoyance.
"I still can’t find him,"
"And I don’t want to leave empty-handed." she muttered, running a gloved hand through her hair. "Sorus won’t tolerate failure. But if the king truly wants to hide someone important... where would he put them if not in the prison?"
She turned her head toward the palace’s towering silhouette. Its countless windows glowed faintly with the bustle of preparations. Servants hurried in and out of side doors, carrying crates of wine and platters of food for the upcoming feast. Guards stood stationed at every gate and corridor, their presence doubling in anticipation of the honored guest.
Mina’s gaze slid lower, toward a less conspicuous wing of the palace. Her lips curved into a wicked grin.
"...A king doesn’t hide his secrets where the world expects," she murmured, her voice dripping with malice. "He hides them deeper. Where light can’t reach."
Her eyes glittered.
"The dungeon."