Maid Stories Novels & Stories

The maids worked silently, their faces blank, though I saw pity flicker in some of their eyes. Two of them stood in the corner, whispering to each other. “Oh, poor thing,” one said softly. “So young and beautiful... and her father sold her.” “I heard his kingdom was crashing so he sold his daughter to save himself.” “She’s just seventeen,” the first maid said again with fake concern. “How could her own father offer his daughter to the monster himself… moon goddess, please show her mercy.” Their words stabbed me like knives. Every piece of pity only made me feel like another blade was twisting in my heart.

“You act like sending her to the Maidens is a worse option than risking our lives going into Sawyer’s territory, so make me believe that’s the case, Alec. Who cares about their hurt feelings? It’d be like giving them back what they swear was taken.” My stomach turned at the thought, and I tried to massage away the tension growing between my eyebrows. I remembered the stories my mother told me about the training of the Maidens. I could almost see the silver tapestries she described hanging in the temple as the maidens said their prayers and filled the air with an energy that felt like lightning on the skin. I remember being in awe of my mother’s powers until I was old enough to see the pain i

The women giggled. “The maids,” Meredith said as she piled up some cups on a tray to refill them. “The maids?” I asked. “The maids know everything,” Moana confirmed. “They see and hear everything,” Fiora nodded. “Which is why you can’t trust the maids,” Cassie told me, her face solemn. “That’s right, Ava. Whatever you do, do not trust a maid. They’re like little spies who’ll tell you anything for the right price.” I nodded—so this wasn’t just about gossip; it was also a game of bribery. The women had come equipped with mouthfuls of gossip they’d paid the maids to give them. Knowing that just added an extra level of strangeness to the whole thing.

the mother inquired, her voice calm and comforting. “Yes, Mama! Tell me about the two lost girls again!” the young Isabella replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The mother smiled as she opened the book, gently running her fingers over the intricate illustrations. In a distant land, there were two girls lost in their own separate worlds long ago. A princess named Elara resided in a magnificent castle yet felt confined by her responsibilities as royalty. Another was a village girl named Lyria, who wandered through the forests in search of a place where she felt she fit in.

Nonetheless, they all perished in the war. Of course, there are only humans. Anna doesn’t have a beast hiding under their skin. Her grandmother told her a lot about life before the war. Life before the sectors that divided the wolves and the humans. Before the manual labor that everyone had to do. Since her father was killed by a werewolf, her mother and Anna were granted to live with her grandmother. And once her body was weakened, she was taken away. Her mother never told her where she went. Once a human hits sixty years of age, or sometimes older they are taken away by the werewolves. Her grandmother had a smile on her face as she rode off in a black car. No one knows where they go, her m

“Um, ma'am. We faced a slight problem. She escaped.” “You knucklehead. I oaidf you good money, gave you all you wanted in terms of resourced. How hard is it for you to kill that bitch and being her body to me.” “I'm sorry ma'am. She disappeared into the woods. We tried chasing but we lost her trail.” “Yoy idiots! It was supposed to be quick and sharp. You go in kill her and being her body to me. Now you have missed your chance. She now knows that people are on he tail. You think she'll be crazy to show face like she did before anymore?”

I wait in the sitting room, prettied, dressed up, and alone. I sit on the couch looking over the backrest like a widow longing for her husband to return home, to come marching up the front yard, through the weeds and untamed growth of her garden. I feel timeless, like the young woman captured in the black and white photograph back home that my father says is his great aunt. She sits on the mantle with the other members of our family history and surveys from her post. But, most of all, I feel helpless. I can fight for the Lunas—for their daughters and their Alpha blood—but I can't save them from their bonds.

Madam Caroline said sarcastically "He isn't taking any of my calls" the maid answered. "What about caira?" Madam Caroline asked "Miss Caira isn't either" the maid said while madam Caroline went silent for a while. "Well, tell her I'll be back soon, have fun!" Madam Caroline said as she ended the call. "Mom, what does she want this time?" Dianna asked as taking of her sunglasses "Relax, just one of her dumb threats" madam Caroline said as she picked up her coconut water and sipped

But her mother hadn't told or explained anything to her, and that had touched her deeply. They had a special bond, four hands on one stomach, so to speak. But those events had broken her confidence and left a scar on her soul. The contact with her grandmother had intensified after that. Maddie smiled. Omem was a herbalist, a Wicca, a witch as she used to call herself. She always had a pill, an herb, or a tea for everything. She loved painting and being creative. She worked with young people who were struggling and sometimes it seemed like she had a youthshelter in her big house. Maddie met a lot off young people there, whom she had never seen before. And who would have spent the night there.

When Mary was taken to the Green mansion’s maid’s room she saw they all used to sleep on the floor and had no basic sanitizing ways. This was already the best treatment Mary could ever think of would be given to a human maid in the werewolves Castle. Mary felt happy and the uneasiness that she had for not knowing her master yet, calmed down a little bit. But the nervousness for staying with unknown people and adjusting in a completely different place was still lingering around.