Chapter Three

It has been precisely two months since I began working at the palace, and though every task has unfolded with near-perfect grace, one persistent challenge remains: avoiding Erica. But today—today is not about that. Today is my graduation. And I’m positively brimming with anticipation.

The palace has been a whirlwind of activity for days, its hallways echoing with hurried footsteps and whispered instructions. Servants and attendants have been preparing for the return of Prince Christian and his cousin, Princess Molly, who are also graduating. Excitement hums in the very walls.

Now, all the maids have been summoned to the servants' quarters by the ever-formidable Madam Silvia.

"Good morning, everyone," she greeted, voice clipped and sharp as a sword’s edge.

"Good morning, Madam," we chorused in practiced unison.

"As you all know," she began, "Prince Christian and Princess Molly are returning today to celebrate their graduation. According to a report from His Majesty, there will be a special announcement during the after-party. Some of you will accompany the King and Queen, while others will remain here to complete the final preparations. I want no mistakes. No idleness. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Madam," we echoed once more.

"Oh, and Jessica?"

"Yes, Madam?" I responded, straightening instinctively.

"Congratulations on your graduation. As per palace protocol, you may take the day off."

I beamed, my heart soaring. "Yes, Madam. Thank you, Madam."

I noticed Erica’s eyes roll with barely disguised disdain, but I simply looked away, refusing to dim my joy for her bitterness.

"Very well. You are all dismissed. Get to your duties at once," Madam Silvia commanded.

"Yes, Madam," we all echoed, bowing respectfully before dispersing.

I returned to my room and began gathering the essentials for the day. Molly had insisted we get ready together. A week ago, Andy and I scoured every boutique we could find for a dress—but nothing felt right. And just when I was about to give up, Molly swept in like a fairytale godmother and sent me a gown from her latest collection—one of the most exquisite pieces I had ever laid eyes on. It was elegant. Ethereal. Almost too perfect. I’d nearly turned it down, worried it was too much, but Molly had threatened to disown me as her best friend if I did. That’s Molly—tenacious, generous, and absolutely irreplaceable.

With my bag packed and a long, luxurious bath behind me, I set off for school.

Three hours later, I found myself in Molly’s dorm room, dressed, coiffed, and utterly transformed. Molly truly outdid herself—she had taken a palace maid and turned her into a debutante. We stood in front of her tall mirror, stealing glances at ourselves and taking countless photos.

“Ooooh, we look so beautiful,” Molly exclaimed, eyes wide with delight.

“I know. Thank you, Molly. For the dress, the makeover... for everything. I don’t know what I did to deserve you as my best friend,” I whispered, trying not to let the tears fall.

“Don’t cry, Jess! You’ll ruin the makeup I worked so hard on,” she laughed, pulling me into a tight embrace. “I would do anything for you. What are friends for?”

“I just hope Christian sees me as beautiful as you say I am,” I said quietly.

“I dare him to take his eyes off you,” she replied, eyes twinkling. “Honestly, if he doesn’t notice, then I swear he needs glasses. Because you, my dear, look breathtaking.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, my nerves settling a little under her unwavering belief in me. Before I could thank her again, a knock sounded on the door.

“Who is it?” Molly called out.

“Babe, it’s me,” came Jake’s voice.

“Oh, the boys are here!” she said, rushing to open the door.

Jake stepped in—and froze.

“Wow\... babe, you... you look incredible,” he said, words stumbling over awe.

“Thanks,” Molly beamed, wrapping him in a loving embrace.

Then Christian walked in.

And everything slowed.

He stepped into the room, his usual confident stride faltering as his eyes landed on me. He stopped. Stared. Gulped. I watched, heart pounding, as his gaze lingered longer than it ever had before. Something flickered in his eyes—was it admiration? Affection? Or was I only imagining it?

I returned his gaze. He looked impossibly handsome—he always did. His dark hair gleamed under the light, perfectly styled, and his suit... well, it fit like it had been crafted solely for him. Christian in sweats was dangerous enough; Christian in a suit was lethal.

I waited for him to say something—anything.

But it was Luke who broke the silence.

“Wow, Jess, you look amazing. You both do. Damn, girls.”

“Thanks,” Molly and I said in unison.

“Yeah... you guys look great,” Christian finally said, quickly looking away.

My heart sank. I’d hoped—perhaps foolishly—that he might say something more. Something that matched the way he’d looked at me. But maybe I’d misread everything. I glanced at Molly. She mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, forcing a smile. But the truth? I wasn’t fine.

“Come on, guys,” Luke said, offering me his hand. “Jess, would you do me the honor of being my date today?”

I froze.

Luke? Asking me?

I cast a sideways glance at Christian, searching for a flicker of reaction—but he was unreadable. Distant. Then he finally looked at me and said something that shattered the fragile dream I’d been holding onto.

“C’mon Jess... Say yes. Don’t worry, as my best friend, I’ll make sure he treats you well. If not, he’s dead.”

He laughed. I didn’t.

My heart plummeted to some cold, lonely place, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I forced a smile for Luke and accepted his hand.

“Okay, let’s go,” Christian said, and we all made our way to the hall.

The venue was beautiful—regal with soft golden lighting, lush floral arrangements, and velvet drapes. We donned our gowns and caps and took our seats. Luke sat beside me, then Molly, then Jake, and finally Christian. I was just starting to relax when a familiar, unwelcome voice interrupted us.

“Hi, Christian.”

Mirabelle.

She was as stunning as ever, her dress clinging to every perfect curve, but I knew what lay beneath all that glitter: cruelty. Deception. A heart that had once gone out of its way to humiliate me.

Christian didn’t even look at her. “What do you want, Mirabelle?”

“Can I speak to you? In private?”

“You can say whatever you want right here. Or not at all.”

“I just... I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. And... I still love you—”

“Stop, Mirabelle,” Christian snapped. “Does this seem like the time or place for this?”

“Please, this might be the last time I see you, and I—”

“He said leave,” Molly cut in, sharp and furious.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Molly.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” I muttered to myself.

“How dare you speak to my friend like that?” Christian asked, voice icy.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

Christian stood and fixed her with a glare so cold it could freeze fire.

“Leave. Or shall I call the guards to remove you from your own graduation?”

Silence.

Then Mirabelle, head bowed in humiliation, turned and walked away.

Christian sat down, the tension in his jaw still visible.

“You okay, man?” Jake asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah... I’m fine. Thanks.”

The ceremony began shortly after. When the royal family arrived, the atmosphere warmed. King Henry gave his speech, and the event unfolded in elegant perfection.

Christian and Jake both won the prestigious award for Best Graduating Students. Molly, unsurprisingly, was recognized as Best in Fashion Design, while Luke was named the Most Promising Footballer and announced as a new signing for Orlander’s national team. The pride in his father’s eyes was unmistakable.

Then, unexpectedly, my name was called.

I had won an award for Most Well-Behaved Student. I walked up in a daze, accepting the plaque with trembling fingers. In the crowd, I spotted my parents, cheering with pride.

As I returned to my seat, Christian pulled me into a tight hug and whispered in my ear, “I’m proud of you.”

Those four words—quiet, sincere—meant more than any grand gesture.

The rest of the day passed like a dream. We took countless photos, embraced our families, and tossed our caps into the air.

A moment frozen in time—bittersweet and beautiful.