Soraya's POV
Work in the palace always felt like stepping into a storm pretending to be calm. The halls glittered, polished floors gleaming, chandeliers glowing like captured stars—yet beneath all the beauty, there was tension, whispered rules, and eyes watching every tiny mistake.
I adjusted the tray in my hands and moved quietly through the west corridor, lined with tall, narrow windows that let in a cold light. The palace was always freezing, as if royalty didn't need warmth like everyone else.
"Psst!"
I froze. Only one person used that sound like a secret signal.
Jenny stood at the corner, apron half-tied, curls bouncing around her round face. She waved me over, eyes wide. "Come here quickly before Anita sees me!"
I hid a smile and walked toward her, pretending to adjust my gloves so no guard thought we were slacking.
"Why are you whispering like you committed a crime?" I murmured.
