Chapter 4

Before long, several new female attendants were assigned to the royal observatory.

One of them, Gwyneth Zane, was proud and ambitious, and she had always resented that I was so often the one allowed to serve Cillian at close range.

One day, I was serving Cillian tea when Gwyneth deliberately bumped into me from behind. My wrist jerked, and the rough sleeve of my uniform brushed against the pristine white hem of Cillian's robe, leaving behind the faintest gray mark.

Cillian immediately smashed his teacup onto the table. Scalding tea splashed across the back of my hand, leaving the skin red and swollen.

"Forgive me, my lord. That shameless woman did it on purpose!" Gwyneth cried, pointing at me. "She's always been a flirt, trying to get your attention."

I glanced up at him and tried to defend myself.

"My lord, I wasn't—"

Cillian didn't even give me the chance to explain. His eyes were fixed on the faint gray mark, filled with undisguised disgust.

"Take it off and burn it," he ordered one of the attendants nearby.

Then he rose and strode away, tossing one final remark over his shoulder.

"You're nothing but a crude servant," he said coldly, each word cutting deeper than the last. "Stop being an eyesore and get out of my sight.

"Go and kneel outside. Don't get up until I tell you to."

I remained on my knees, watching his spotless figure disappear in the distance.

"My apologies, my lord," I said, lowering my head.

In the end, I spent six hours kneeling beneath the blazing sun, until my knees felt like they were about to give out.

I looked perfectly obedient as I took my punishment, but inside, I was cursing him with every vulgar word I knew.

"Who the heck does he think he is?" I thought. "I've had enough!"

Fortunately, I'd finally made it to the finish line. I'd survived three notoriously difficult masters, and now I was finally 25.

Under the kingdom's laws, female servants who reached the age of 25 were allowed to leave the palace and marry, provided their master did not ask them to stay.

I already had a box overflowing with gold coins, and all I could think about was a grand house in the countryside, delicious food, and freedom.

To make sure the palace administration didn't find some excuse to delay my release, I sought out a palace guard from my hometown, Adam Letscher.

Adam was a simple, good-natured man who was always short on money and couldn't afford to marry.

So I made him a deal.

"You pretend to be my childhood sweetheart. We'll tell everyone we've been secretly engaged for years and are finally leaving the palace to get married.

"Once we're out, we'll split the money the palace gives us for setting up our new household, along with any wedding gifts, 50-50. After that, we'll go our separate ways."

Adam's eyes lit up.

"Mildred, don't worry!" he said, thumping his chest loudly. "I'll make it convincing!"

We shook on it.

The plan was flawless.

…

On the night before I was due to leave the palace, I sat in my cramped servants' quarters, using the dim candlelight to count my gold coins one last time.

I was grinning to myself when the door suddenly swung open.

A gust of cold air swept inside, carrying the faint scent of sandalwood.

My smile froze, and I instinctively shoved my bundle behind me.

The man standing in the doorway was dressed entirely in white, looking absolutely ethereal.

It was Cillian.

What on earth was he doing in a filthy little room meant for the lowest-ranking servants?

Cillian clearly hated the surroundings. He frowned as he glanced around the cramped quarters until his gaze suddenly landed on the packed bundle sitting on my bed.

He looked at me.

"I was told by the palace administration that you're leaving tomorrow," he said.

Although his usual commanding tone remained, there was a faint tension beneath it that I had never heard before.

"Yes, my lord," I replied, lowering my head respectfully. "I've reached the age when I'm permitted to leave the palace, so I'll be leaving tomorrow. Thank you for everything you've taught me over the years."

Cillian's breath caught as he closed the door behind him.

"I have an opening for a personal attendant in my study," he said in that same faintly patronizing tone I knew so well. "If you stay, I'll spare you the drudgery of the lower servants' quarters. From now on, you'll only serve me in the study."

I froze for a moment, then lowered my head even further.

"I'm afraid I'm not worthy of serving someone like you," I answered quietly. "Besides, I'm leaving tomorrow to marry Adam Letscher, one of the palace guards. Our wedding has already been arranged. I beg you to give us your blessing."

The moment the words left my mouth, the color drained from Cillian's face. His hand closed tightly around the silver pocket watch he always carried.

With a sharp snap, the delicate chain broke in his hand.

"Marry? Who gave you permission to get married?"