When Lara was led to the kitchen the next morning, the guard shoved her inside. She stumbled and hit the floor hard.
"My Lady!" the young maid she had defended yesterday rushed toward her.
Lara held out a hand to stop her. "No. Don't. I won't let you get in trouble because of me."
The tiny maid's eyes filled with tears. "My lady… no one has ever stood up for us like you did. Not once. We don't care what happens to us. But you—" Her voice broke. "You cared."
A quiet murmur spread through the other maids. One by one, they stepped closer.
So they worked beside her.
They carried the heavy buckets. They scrubbed the pans before she reached them. They shielded her when the overseer passed by. They moved quickly, silently, using every chance to make her burden lighter.
By midday, much of her work was already done.
True to her promise, Nyalei had her escorted to the garden for lunch. The fresh air was soft on Lara's face, a small relief after the cold stone floors of the kitchen.
