The Flaming Heart
There was a frank agitation in the maid’s eyes, like she feared seeing Leila do any work.
After seeing maid’s intense reaction, Leila had no choice but to sit in front of the dressing table. She looked into the copper mirror and observed the maid busy on the floor. The girl’s tender face and her glistening silver skin was gorgeous, even against the reflection of the radiant golden coins. This fact reminded Leila, once again, that they were naturally ranked differently.
“You know, I used to have another maid. Her name was Nyree,” Leila said, a faint coldness in her voice.