Mag-log inThe next morning, before the first bell rang, Catherine slipped into her neatest uniform with trembling fingers. Her mother, Elizabeth, watched with worry lines deepening around her eyes.“You can’t let them see how tired you are,” she whispered, brushing Catherine’s hair. “Walk steady, and if they ask, tell them it’s just nerves. Never illness.”She turned her daughter around to look at her, then pressed a cool hand to Catherine’s cheek. “And if the Queen questions you, look her in the eye and answer. She notices every tiny detail. But remember, you are stronger than you feel.”Catherine nodded, pressing her own palm to her stomach as if she could still her body by sheer will.The walk to the Queen’s private salon felt longer than ever. The sun was already starting to come up, showering its gold sheets through the tall windows. Lady Mirabel met Catherine at the entrance, her composure giving nothing away, but she could sense her anxiety. Catherine followed her inside, every footstep
Just before sunrise the following day, Isla sat on her bed, holding the envelope that Alden had given her. She still hadn’t decided if she would accept it or not. Her fingers traced the wax seal as her mind swirled.Trust, discretion, opportunity. But what would she be giving up?As she kept pondering her next move, she watched as staff passed her window in twos and threes, listening to their chatter and laughter, each one getting ready for the day.A knock at her door startled her. She hurriedly slid the envelope into the drawer beside her bed just as Catherine poked her head in, her eyes tired. “Hey, Isla, are you up?”Isla nodded, motioning her in. “Sure. You’re up early,” she forced a smile.“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Catherine said, as she sat on the bed, her voice soft and fragile. “Can I talk to you?”“Of course. Is everything okay?”“I’m scared,” Catherine whispered. “I think people are starting to notice, you know, with the morning sickness and all.”Isla reached for her
The bell for staff breakfast rang sharp and early, slicing through the hush of a palace and the bustle of the staff quarters, suspicion about the stolen earrings still lingering in the air. Catherine woke to the ache of dread, the memory of Isla’s trembling hand as she confessed her desperate act was still vivid in her mind.Hours earlier, Isla had met with Catherine in the larder, her eyes wild. “I got rid of it,” she whispered, breathless. “I slipped the earrings into Beatrice’s bag.”Catherine’s mouth dropped open. “What? Why?”“She kept talking about you, how you looked ill. She had started to put the pieces together. So, I thought, why not kill two birds with one stone?”“Isla…I… I don’t know what to say but this…Beatrice could be dismissed.”“I know.” Isla’s face showed guilt, but her loyalty to Catherine was fierce. “You’re my friend, Cathy. I couldn’t let them find out. Besides, if you ask me, I’d say she had it coming.”Catherine hugged Isla, but her gratitude tangled with wo
Catherine jolted awake, her heart pounding in the twilight stillness. She moved quietly, careful not to wake her mother, and slipped into the corridor where the first rays of dawn slipped through the frosted glass.She found Isla already preparing tea in the pantry, hands deft, but her eyes were swollen with lack of sleep. “Cathy, I thought you’d never come out.” Her voice was hushed, urgent. “Did you do what I said with the earring?”Catherine shivered, clutching her own arms. “It’s hidden for now. Isla, what if they search everyone? If they find it—”Isla pressed a reassuring hand over hers. “They won’t, Cathy. I’ll help you think this through. We keep our heads. No one knows but you, me… and whoever put it in your bag.”Catherine forced a tight nod. Then, Isla’s gaze drifted past her, to the kitchen’s far corner. Mr. Alden, the King's junior royal secretary, loitered there, charming a row of maids with clever smiles and low jokes. Catherine saw the glimmer in her friend’s eyes and
Catherine sat on the edge of her small bed, her knees curled tightly to her chest. Her mother hovered nearby, just stunned in silence.With her arms folded, she waited for an explanation from her daughter. She didn’t want to assume; she wanted to hear it directly from Catherine’s mouth.“That night I came back late, you asked where I was, and I lied that I was with Isla. But, I was with… with Prince George. He was drunk, barely awake, so I… I helped him to his room, and I…“Tears streaked down her face as she continued. “Ma, I didn’t plan for it to happen, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was so ashamed. I thought I’d let you down. I didn’t know what else to do. And then, the rumors started and I got really scared…”Elizabeth listened, her face tense, the years of palace service etched into every line. She brushed a strand of hair behind Catherine’s ear.“I wish I could tell you what to do, but I know what it means to be talked about in whispers,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Wh
The next day, Catherine woke up tense. She could barely sleep last night. She remembered the note, and her throat tightened. The rumors were now venturing into threats.Elizabeth had asked what was in the envelope, but she had shrugged, lying that it was one of the maids playing a prank on her. She didn’t want her mother to feel more worried about her than she already was.Could it actually be a prank? She thought to herself as she entered the palace to start her shift. Every glance at her seemed loaded. Could it be her? Could it be him? Catherine was starting to become paranoid.The palace itself felt changed. There was a new curfew in place, posted quietly on the wooden notice boards along the hallway in the staff quarters. New schedules slipped into kitchen tables, instructions whispered by supervisors.Each message was the same: Staff were to avoid royal corridors after dark, keep interactions brief, and “hold themselves to the highest standards.” There had been no grand announcem







