Camryn

"Mistress wants you, Cam!" came a voice in the hallway.

"I understand! I'm in a rush. As I ran down the stone tunnels, I called back, my voice resonating. I was still on the first floor, and Mistress's chamber was on the third. A breathless ascent that would take several minutes was promised by the imposing staircases that towered ahead. The castle where I worked as Mistress's maid was enormous and a breathtaking architectural wonder. I was enthralled by its beauty, yet I frequently felt little and overwhelmed by its immense magnitude.

Of fact, Mistress was Queen Bea herself, and King Ray had engaged me to look after her. I was also occasionally assigned to serve Prince Jake. They were a distinguished family, more affluent and well-known than many other royals, and they handsomely compensated me for my work. However, unless I asked the King for a portion, my mother received all of my earnings. It felt like I worked for nothing most of the time, but I was free to keep any presents or bonuses that went above and beyond my usual salary. And I worked.

Cooking, serving Mistress, helping her get ready for the day, cleaning her rooms, pouring tea for her and her guests, going on visits to make sure she was comfortable, cooking again, tending to the Prince, getting Mistress ready for bed, helping in the kitchen, and finally falling into bed, exhausted, was how my days started before the sun even rose.

When I got to her door, I knocked. "Come in!" was the piercing order.

"My Lady?" I went ahead and entered.

Mistress remarked, "Ah, there you are, girl," in an impatient tone. "I must be preparing myself! Is the outfit I wore a while ago still clean?

"The blue one, My Lady?"

"Yes, the blue one." I ran to the closet and dug through the cloths till I came across it.

"Here you go, Mistress." I started working on her hair while she slipped into the garment.

"Do a better job than you did yesterday, understand?" She lost her temper. "It was falling down halfway through dinner—you’d have thought I’d been tugging at it myself!"

I apologize, Lady. With my hands skillfully fixing the loose strands and fastening them with a pearl-encrusted comb, I assured them that tonight would be better. I worked carefully for ten minutes before taking a step back. "There you go, My Lady—fit for a ball."

"You'll be punished if it falls again," she said in a cold tone. "It’s embarrassing when I cannot look fit to be queen!"

"Yes, Mistress," I said doctrinally.

Jake hasn't eaten all day, so now go to the kitchens and get him something. You'd better be up and waiting because I'll be returning late tonight."

"Yes, My Lady, I will be."

She said, "I must be gone!" She stormed out, leaving me to bear the consequences of her words, so I curtsied. I would have to remain up to take care of her clothes and undo her hair since she wouldn't come back till midnight. I let out a sigh. Before dawn again—when would I ever sleep?

I made my way back through the castle, passing via the secret door into the kitchens, descending the sweeping staircases, and crossing the vast ballroom. The soothing aroma of boiling stew and warm bread filled the air.

"Hello, Cam," said head cook Daria. "How was My Lady?"

"I'm in a terrible mood, Daria. "She was terrible," I said, letting out a deep breath. "But I get the evening off after this."

"That’s good," Daria nodded. "Look, I have the Prince's dinner here. Do you want me to pursue it?

"No, I’ll do it," I argued. "You ought to get some rest. Have you been cooking all day?

"Mostly," she said. "But if you're going, go ahead now. If you are late, the Queen will be upset."

I said, "Thanks," picked up the tray, and hurried away. I went across the hall, turned right, went up the stairs, turned left, went up more steps, went along the corridor, and finally reached the Prince's room at the very end on the right. I waited and knocked softly.

"Come in," a voice within said.

I opened the door slowly and stopped, looking around the room. No matter how many times I went in, the gleaming wooden flooring, the lofty ceiling, the enormous fireplace, the spotless desk, the dresser, and the bed—all of them well made—always captured my attention. I stepped ahead and placed the tray on a table, seeing how cold and dark the room was. Before carrying them to the desk where the Prince sat, absorbed on his studies, I poured a cup of tea and picked up the plate.

"Evening, sir," I said.

He didn't respond, his concentration unwavering. Responses were infrequent over the three years I had worked for him; I counted seventeen times. I was unfazed and proceeded to the fireplace, where I stacked wood and tended to the flames until the room became cozy. I lighted two candles and positioned them at opposite ends of the room because a lantern seemed too bright. The room became comfortable, filled with a gentle, serene light.

I moved to a corner and observed the Prince eating absently. His dark hair, black eyes, and sharp, sculpted features made him an attractive man. I was amazed with his intelligence at the age of eighteen. Ignoring the cold, hunger, and darkness until someone came to his aid, he spent his days cooped up here, reading, writing, and learning. I used to think that he would freeze and then leave his books alone. He was quite knowledgeable.

He broke the silence with an abrupt question, "Are you still here, maid?"

"Yes, sir. How can I help you?

"Go to the library and fetch me these books." He gave me a list of six titles, all of which were a maze of technical phrases that I was unable to pronounce.

My thoughts wandered as I made my way to the library, four doors down. I ought to have attended school and acquired the necessary reading and writing skills. I could write Mistress's letters and read more fluently than other maids, so it's not that I couldn't, but I yearned for something more, a level of knowledge comparable to the Prince's. It was difficult, but I made it back with the heavy books piled in my arms. Already deep in concentration, he accepted them silently.

"Do you not need anything else?" I inquired. His eyes met mine for a moment as he looked up, a rare sight.

"Yes, I do. I've invited a professor to visit in one hour. When he gets here, come grab me and get some meal ready for him."

"Yes, sir. "Anything else, sir?"

"No," he replied, returning his focus to his books. After giving a quick curtsy, I walked silently into the hallway and shut the door.