Chapter 5: Unspoken Rules
The morning after breakfast, no one came for her.
Florida sat on the edge of her bed in the same beige dress. She had washed it carefully the night before, hanging it by the window. It hadn't fully dried, but it was all she had.
She waited.
No knock. No instructions. No one.
Eventually, she opened the door and stepped out.
The hallway was wide, silent, and spotless. She walked slowly, her shoes making soft clicks that sounded too loud in the emptiness.
At the bottom of the stairs, a maid appeared with a tray in her hands and stopped short.
"You shouldn't be out here," the woman said.
Florida lowered her eyes. "I… I wasn't sure—"
"Mrs. Kings," the maid cut in, voice quiet but sharp, "this is the staff wing. Wives don't walk here."
She paused.
Wives.
It didn't feel like the word belonged to her.
The maid pointed back toward the hallway.
"Please return to your side. Someone will bring your breakfast."
Florida nodded and turned without a word.
She didn't see the other maid standing at the corner, smirking.
—
Later, her meal arrived in silence — placed on her table, untouched by conversation. A simple tray. Toast. Eggs. Tea.
No one asked how she was settling in.
She ate alone, again.
And when she was done, she picked up the empty tray and quietly stepped into the hallway, unsure if she should carry it back.
She didn't get far.
"That's not your job."
She turned quickly. The butler—an older man with a stiff suit and cold eyes—was watching her.
"Place it outside the door. Someone will handle it."
"I'm sorry," she said quickly.
"Don't be sorry," he replied. "Just don't forget your place."
She froze.
Not out of shock — but because she already knew.
Her place wasn't beside Bryant.
It wasn't in the dining room.
It wasn't even in the hallways.
It was in this quiet corner of the mansion where no one looked twice.
—
That night, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Same eyes. Same face.
But different.
There was a heaviness behind her eyes she hadn't noticed before.
She reached for her sketchbook under the pillow and opened to a blank page.
But she didn't draw.
She just sat there, staring at it.
> "I used to dream about making dresses…"
> "Now I don't even know where I'm allowed to stand."
She closed the book gently and placed it back under the pillow.
Then she turned off the light and slipped under the covers.
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End of Chapter 5