The first rays of dawn had barely touched the highest spires of Aethelgard Castle when a cheerful, determined knock echoed through Prince Aiden's chambers.
"Prince! Prince, time to wake up!"
Aiden groaned, pulling a silk pillow over his head. It couldn't be morning already. It felt like he had only just fallen asleep after hours of staring at his ceiling, contemplating his new, terrifying reality.
The knocking came again, louder this time. "Prince Aiden! Your Majesty, the Queen, said to make sure you were awake!"
With a sigh that seemed to drain all life from his body, Aiden rolled out of bed. He fumbled for a robe, his eyes still half-closed. "Just a minute, Nimbus. I'm still sleepy," he mumbled to the dragon, who was snoozing on a specially reinforced balcony perch.
He stumbled to the door, his bare feet silent on the plush carpet. He yanked it open, ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of his sleep-deprived mind.
It was Rina. She was standing there, already dressed in a crisp, new maid's uniform, her short brown hair neatly combed. Her face was a picture of cheerful determination.
"Oh, good, you're up!" she chirped, completely missing the death glare he was giving her. "I'm here to open your curtains and draw your bath! It's a beautiful day!"
She tried to step past him into the room, full of bubbly energy. Aiden, still half-asleep and not in the mood for a tornado of cheerfulness, put a hand out to stop her.
"Wait, just… hold on. Don't come in here yet," he grumbled, pushing her back gently by her shoulder.
But Rina, in her eagerness, chose that exact moment to take a step forward. His hand, instead of landing on her shoulder, slid down and… met a much softer, more rounded part of her anatomy.
"Kyaa!" Rina shrieked, her eyes widening in comical horror as she stumbled back a step, her face turning a shade of red that rivaled Lyra's hair.
Aiden's eyes, which had been drooping with sleep, snapped open. His hand recoiled as if he had touched a hot stove. He stared at his own hand, then at Rina, his brain finally catching up with what had just happened.
"Wahh!!" he yelped, his face turning a shade of red that perfectly matched Rina's. "I—It was an accident! I didn't mean to—I was just trying to—"
He stammered, his usual sarcastic wit completely gone, replaced by a flustered, teenage awkwardness he hadn't experienced since he was fifteen.
Rina just stood there, her hands clasped over her chest, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated shock and embarrassment. "I… I… oh my…"
The two of them stood there, in the doorway of the prince's chambers, a frozen tableau of mutual horror and embarrassment. The sun was not the only thing that was rising. So was the level of awkwardness in Aethelgard Castle.
The silence in the doorway was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Aiden was still staring at his hand as if it had grown a second head. Rina, however, was the first to recover.
She shot up into a deep, wobbly curtsy, her face the color of a ripe tomato. "I— I am so sorry, Your Highness! It was an accident!"
Aiden finally tore his eyes away from his traitorous hand, his face still a burning crimson. "What— what are you doing?" he squeaked, his voice an octave higher than usual. He wasn't just asking about the awkward touch; he was asking about her entire, terrifying presence in his private chambers at this ungodly hour.
Rina straightened up, trying to salvage a shred of professionalism and deflect the blame. "The Queen! The Queen instructed me to wake you up, Your Highness!"
Aiden's panic slowly morphed into a deep, weary resignation. Of course. It had his mother's fingerprints all over it. He let out a long, slow breath, the last of his energy draining away.
He rubbed his temples, the awkwardness giving way to a familiar headache. "Right. Of course she did."
He looked at Rina, who was still standing stiffly, awaiting his judgment like a soldier before a king. He sighed again.
"Fine. Just… open the curtains. But no more sudden movements. From either of us."
Rina, desperate to prove her usefulness and forget the morning's awkwardness, scurried to the heavy, velvet curtains. With a strong pull, she yanked them open.
Sunlight, bright and unforgiving, flooded the room, striking Aiden directly in the face. He flinched, shielding his eyes with a groan.
"Well, Prince, what next?" Rina asked, turning from her task with a bright, helpful smile. "Should I prepare your clothes for today? Or draw your bath?"
Aiden lowered his hand, blinking against the light. He just wanted her to leave. "You can leave. I will get dressed myself and continue my morning routine."
Rina's cheerful expression faltered, replaced by a look of sincere confusion. "Oh… but, Prince, I was also told to make your bed."
"I don't need you to do that," Aiden said, his voice tight with patience that was wearing incredibly thin.
"But, Prince, I was ordered to!" Rina insisted, her brow furrowed with a sense of duty that was, to Aiden, utterly infuriating. "It's my job to make your bed!"
Aiden stared at her. He stared at the cheerful, determined look on her face, at the earnest way she was trying to do her job. He realized arguing was pointless. It was like trying to reason with a happy, unstoppable puppy.
He let out a long, defeated sigh, the sound of a man surrendering to his fate. He threw his hands up in a gesture of complete capitulation.
"Fine! Whatever!"
He stomped over to his wardrobe, grabbed a silk robe, and wrapped it around himself. Then, with a look of grim determination, he marched back to his bed.
"I will do it myself. You can go," he said, grabbing a pillow and starting to fluff it with sharp, angry movements.
Rina stood frozen in the middle of the room, her hands clasped together. "Oh… okay?" she said, her voice filled with confusion. She had been ordered to make his bed, but now he was making it himself. The rules of being a maid were very complicated.
She watched him for a moment longer, then, deciding her presence was no longer needed, she gave a final, hesitant curtsy and scurried out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Aiden was left alone, furiously making his own bed in his own chambers, feeling like he had just lost his first, and most baffling, battle of the day.
Finally, his bed was made. It wasn't perfect, but it was done, and that was all that mattered. Aiden smoothed his tunic, took a deep, steadying breath, and marched to his chamber door. He was going to find some breakfast, preferably in a part of the castle where cheerful, brown-haired maids were not allowed.
He pulled open the heavy oak door and stepped out… only to stop dead in his tracks.
There she was. Rina. She was standing perfectly still against the opposite wall, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes fixed on the floor. She looked like a small, nervous statue.
Aiden felt a headache forming behind his eyes. "What are you still doing here?" he asked, his voice flat with exhaustion.
Rina flinched at his voice. She immediately dropped into a deep, trembling curtsy, her head bowed so low her chin was practically touching her chest. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness! If my work is not good, I will fix it!"
Aiden let out a long, slow sigh. This was getting ridiculous. "It's not your fault, it's… fine. Just… raise your head."
But Rina didn't move. She kept her head bowed, her body trembling slightly. It was as if he had just ordered her to look directly at the sun.
"I said, raise your head," he repeated, a little more firmly this time.
Still, she didn't move. She just stood there, a frozen bundle of fear and duty.
Aiden stared at her. He could order her to stand at attention for a week and she would probably stay in that exact same curtsy until she fainted from hunger. He was a prince. He was used to being obeyed. This… this was something else entirely.
He threw his hands up in a gesture of complete surrender and turned to march down the hall, leaving her there. He would just find another hallway. A longer hallway. He didn't care. He just needed to escape.
Aiden stopped mid-stride, his back still to her. He didn't turn around. He just stood there, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He realized this was a battle he couldn't win with orders or threats. He would have to try a different tactic.
"What's your name?" he asked, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
There was a small, surprised gasp from behind him. "My name is Rina Cloverfield, Your Highness."
Aiden slowly turned around. He looked at her, really looked at her. She was still standing in her perfect curtsy, her head bowed, trembling slightly. He felt a strange pang of something—pity? annoyance? He couldn't tell.
"Don't call me 'Your Highness.'"
Rina's head shot up, her eyes wide with shock. "Oh! But… but I must, Your Highness! It's not proper!"
"I said, don't call me that," Aiden repeated, his voice a little firmer this time. He pointed a thumb at his own chest. "Just call me Aiden. I don't like 'Your Highness.' It's stuffy. And you're not to call me that."
Rina stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. The Prince—the Prince—was telling her to use his first name. It was the most improper, most scandalous thing she had ever heard. It was… it was wonderful.
A wave of heat washed over her, and her heart started doing a strange, fluttery thing in her chest. It was not proper to feel this way about a prince's name.
"Oh… oh, I see," she stammered, unable to meet his intense gaze. She looked down at her shoes, her face a bright, happy red. "If… if that is what you wish, Aiden."
She said his name. It was a whisper, soft and a little reverent, as if she were testing a sacred word.
Aiden, completely oblivious to the internal storm he had just created, just nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, you can go. Do your… maid things. Just… don't stand here like a statue."
He turned and marched away, feeling like he had finally solved one small part of his morning.
Rina, however, remained frozen in place for a long moment after he left. She slowly brought a hand up to her chest, right over her fluttering heart.
Aiden, she thought, a secret, happy smile spreading across her face. He said I can call him Aiden.