After navigating a labyrinth of grand hallways and up a flight of marble stairs, Queen Isolde led them to a pair of massive, gilded doors carved with scenes of dragons and knights. With a dramatic flourish, she pushed them open.
Rina let out a small gasp.
This wasn't a servants' wing. This was the heart of the castle. They were standing in the grand antechamber to the throne room, a vast hall with a vaulted ceiling painted like a night sky. Portraits of stern-faced Dravenheart kings and queens lined the walls, their eyes seeming to follow the girls' every move. At the far end, through a towering archway, they could see the two magnificent thrones on a raised dais.
Queen Isolde turned to them, a proud, possessive smile on her face. "Good girls, do you know this place?" she asked, her voice echoing in the cavernous space.
Rina's eyes were wide with awe. Talia's jaw was tight with suspicion. Lyra's gaze was fixed on the empty throne where Aiden should be. Eira was studying the architectural details with academic interest. Seraphine looked utterly bored.
"This is the seat of power of the Dragonfly World," the Queen continued, her voice filled with a dramatic reverence. "And from this day forward, this is your domain to serve and protect."
She gestured for them to form a line before the archway leading to the thrones. They obeyed, standing in a nervous, mismatched row.
"Now, as your first official duty, you will introduce yourselves," Queen Isolde commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. "State your full name and your place of origin. We are a family now, and families must know one another."
She looked down the line, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "We will start with you. The cheerful one. Speak."
She pointed directly at Rina, who jumped as if she'd been struck by lightning. All eyes were suddenly on her.
Rina jumped, her eyes wide. She took a shaky step forward and dropped into a clumsy but deep curtsy, nearly tripping over her own feet.
"Y-Your Majesty! My name is Rina Cloverfield! From Clover Village! It's an honor to serve you!" she stammered, her voice a little too loud in the vast hall. She shot up, her face flushed, and gave a bright, determined smile.
Queen Isolde's own smile widened. Enthusiastic. Good. She moved her gaze to the next girl in line.
Talia stepped forward. She didn't curtsy. She just stood there, her arms crossed, her chin raised in defiance. "Talia Fernwell. From the Fernwell Hills," she stated, her voice flat and clipped. It wasn't an introduction; it was a challenge.
The Queen's smile tightened slightly. Defiant. Annoying, but strong-willed. Manageable. Her eyes slid to the third girl.
Lyra stepped forward, her movements slow and dreamy. She didn't look at the Queen. Her gaze was fixed on the empty throne beside the King's. "My name is Lyra Draconis," she whispered, her voice soft and adoring. "I am here for Aiden. To serve him. Forever."
A dead silence fell over the group. The other girls stared at Lyra in shock. Queen Isolde's eyebrow shot up. Interesting. Very, very interesting. She filed that information away for later and moved on, her expression unreadable.
Eira stepped forward with a grace that seemed innate. She gave a perfect, formal bow, her silver braid falling over her shoulder. "Eira Moonveil of the Silverwood Clan, from the Moonveil Forest. I am a scholar of ancient history and magic. I am here to observe and serve," she said, her voice calm and precise.
The Queen was genuinely impressed. A Silverwood elf! Their scholars are legendary. A touch of class in this chaotic group. She gave a small, approving nod.
Finally, her eyes landed on the last girl. Seraphine glided forward and curtsied with an elegance that made Rina's attempt look like a stumble. It was the movement of someone born and bred in a court.
"Seraphine. Of the minor Noctis noble house," she said, her voice a melodic, cultured purr. She lied about her clan, turning the infamous Noctalis Dominion into a "minor house," a subtle misdirection that was brilliant in its simplicity. "My family has fallen on hard times. I am here to restore our honor through diligent service."
Queen Isolde was charmed. A fallen noblewoman! How tragic! How romantic! This is perfect.
She clapped her hands together, her smile triumphant. "Excellent! It is done. You are now the Royal Maids of Aethelgard. Your first duty is to learn this castle. Your second is to learn my son. You are dismissed. Go to your chambers and prepare for your duties. You will begin at dawn."
With another dramatic turn, she swept away, leaving the five new maids standing in the heart of power, their new lives officially beginning.
From a quiet, shadowed alcove overlooking a moonlit garden, Aiden watched his mother lead the five new maids away. He let out a long, weary groan, slumping against a stone column.
"Great. Just great. Now the five girls from yesterday are officially my maids."
Nimbus, who was curled up on a nearby marble balustrade, opened one eye. "Are you not pleased, my lord? You seemed to enjoy their cooking."
"Ugh, especially the girls who made me faint yesterday," Aiden grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck where Lyra had grabbed him. "The one who bites, the one who cries over onions, the one who looks at me like I'm a roast chicken… they're all here."
"And the one who saved your life from an assassin," Nimbus rumbled, a deep, chuckling sound in his chest. "And the one who can chop meat faster than a hummingbird's wings. They are an interesting collection."
Before Aiden could retort, his mother's voice, magically amplified, echoed through the entire hall.
"AIDEN!! COME AND INTRODUCE YOURSELF AT ONCE!"
Aiden flinched. He turned back to Nimbus, his eyes wide with desperation. "Nimbus, quick! Prepare a good escape route! Through the rookery, maybe? Or over the western wall?"
The dragon let out a sigh that smelled of smoke and ancient patience. "My apologies, my lord, but I cannot."
"What?! Why not?!"
"Because," Nimbus said, opening his other eye to look at him, "the Queen has likely already assigned every guard in this castle to watch you. And besides, you have duties. You must introduce yourself to your new… staff."
Aiden stared at the dragon, then at the grand hall where his mother and the five maids were waiting. He saw no escape. He let out a sigh so deep it felt like he was deflating.
He pushed himself off the column and trudged towards them, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
When he arrived, the five maids were standing in a neat line, their faces a mixture of awe, fear, and curiosity. Queen Isolde stood beside them, a smug, triumphant smile on her face.
"Ah, there you are, my son!" she chirped. "These are your new maids. They have introduced themselves. Now, it is your turn."
Aiden looked down the line. He saw Rina's hopeful smile, Talia's defiant glare, Lyra's adoring gaze, Eira's analytical stare, and Seraphine's unreadable, elegant expression. He cleared his throat, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion.
"Hello. I'm Aiden. I'll be in my study. Try not to set anything on fire."
Aiden's blunt, dismissive introduction hung in the air, as cold and unwelcoming as a winter draft. The five maids reacted in their own unique ways.
Rina's bright smile faltered, her brow furrowed in confusion. Talia just scoffed, rolling her eyes. "As arrogant as they say," she muttered under her breath. Lyra's adoring expression didn't change in the slightest. "He is just overwhelmed by my presence," she whispered dreamily to no one in particular. Eira simply nodded, as if confirming a scientific hypothesis. "A classic avoidance response. Noted." And a ghost of a smirk touched Seraphine's lips before it vanished.
Queen Isolde watched their reactions, a sly, knowing glint in her eyes. She stepped forward and placed a hand on Aiden's shoulder, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.
"Aiden, Aiden, so cold to your new… staff," she purred.
She then looked from her son's horrified face to the five girls, a thoughtful, calculating expression on her face. "But you know, looking at them all together… a cheerful girl from the village, a fierce dragon rider, a mysterious maiden, a wise elf, and a graceful noblewoman… it's less like a staff, and more like a…"
She paused for dramatic effect, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she looked back at her son.
"…a fine collection of future brides, wouldn't you say?"
The color drained from Aiden's face, only to be replaced by a deep, burning crimson that started at his neck and rapidly spread to his ears. He looked like he was about to spontaneously combust.
"M—Mother!" he sputtered, his voice a strangled squeak. "They are not—they are maids! Staff!"
A peal of delighted, musical laughter escaped the Queen's lips. It echoed through the grand hall, full of genuine amusement at her son's prudish, flustered reaction.
"Oh, my dear, sensitive son! I am only teasing!" she giggled, waving a dismissive hand. "Honestly, you make it too easy!"
She turned back to the five maids, who were now staring at Aiden with a mixture of pity, amusement, and, in Lyra's case, hopeful consideration.
"Now, off you all go! To your chambers! Shoo!" Isolde said, clapping her hands. "You have a big day tomorrow!"
As the five maids curtsied and were led away by a steward, Aiden was left standing in the middle of the grand hall, his face the color of a ripe tomato, under the bewildered, amused, and adoring gazes of his five new maids.