The Job Description Didn't Mention "Maid"

-Morgan

More than a week had passed since our arrival, and in all that time, I had not seen so much as a shadow of Natalia. A disquiet had settled deep in my bones, a feeling that only intensified after listening to Markus’s chilling account of the witch and Natalia's horrifying connection to the tale. My period of training, it seemed, had concluded, for Markus informed me this morning that I was to be assigned as Natalia’s sole attendant from this day forward. How marvelous. So much for ever putting distance between us.

Markus guided me through a labyrinth of identical stone corridors, our footsteps echoing softly in the stillness. We finally came to a stop before a solitary, unassuming door, indistinguishable from the dozens we had passed. Reaching up, his fingers found a narrow ledge concealed near the doorframe and retrieved a single, heavy iron key.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“Your friend, it seems, made a run for it the other day. The King has ordered her confined to her quarters at all times, until he is convinced she can be trusted not to attempt another escape.” He placed the key in my hand. The cold, heavy metal felt like a physical weight in my palm, a tangible burden of responsibility. I slid it into the lock.

“Then why are you trusting me with it?”

“The King would prefer I didn’t,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I’m choosing to extend you the benefit of the doubt.”

The lock yielded with a metallic groan, opening onto a chamber steeped in shadow. A knot of worry tightened in my chest; I knew Natalia’s deep-seated fear of the dark. With a gentle but firm push, Markus urged me over the threshold. “She needs to be prepared at once,” he murmured. “I am forbidden from entering until the King himself arrives.” The sheer arrogance of the monarch, acting as though Natalia were already his property, made my jaw clench. I offered a curt nod in response.

Approaching the bed, I reached out and gently shook her shoulder, hoping to ease her from sleep. Her eyelids fluttered, and she turned to face me.

“Morgan?” she asked, her voice thick with slumber. I nodded. In an instant, her hand shot out, tugging me down onto the mattress beside her with surprising strength. A small gasp escaped me as she wrapped her arms around me in a desperate hug. “Sis, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I whispered back. Many mistook Natalia for the elder sister, a common assumption given she stood a few inches taller than I. It was an illusion. In truth, I had always been the one to look after her, a dynamic anyone who truly knew us would never question. She sat up and buried her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with quiet sobs as I stroked her back and patted her head.

“Shhhh. It’s alright.” I chided her gently, “Honestly. We haven’t had a moment like this since before you learned to speak your mind so fiercely.” A watery laugh escaped her, though tears still clung to her lashes.

“Alright, let’s get you ready for the day,” I announced, rising and sweeping the blankets off her in one smooth motion. She instinctively reached for them, but I danced away, holding them out of her reach.

“What was that for?” she mumbled drowsily. I grinned.

“Payback,” I said with a smirk. “For every morning you ever snuck into my room and woke me by either jumping on me or pelting me with something.” She groaned in protest, but I simply rolled my eyes and moved to prepare her bath.

I selected from the array of scented oils and soaps Markus had introduced me to, explaining the purpose of each as I lathered her hair. The familiar ritual was soothing, a comforting echo of the countless times she had done the same for me, her nimble fingers always eager to try some intricate new braid. Once she was clean, I sifted through her wardrobe and chose a lovely gown for her. It was as I helped her dress, guiding her arm into a delicate sleeve, that my fingers brushed against something wrong.

“What happened to your arm?” I asked, my voice suddenly sharp. My gaze dropped instantly, searching for a cast or sling beneath the fabric.

I could practically feel the agitation roll off her. “Mr. Psycho broke it.” My brow furrowed. Mr. Psycho? Natalia must have sensed my confusion, because she answered my unspoken question. “The King.”

Wait. “The King,” I repeated, my voice dropping to a dangerously quiet pitch. “He broke your arm?” My eyes narrowed, and my hands began to hover over her, instinctively checking for any other injuries as I turned her gently.

“He did. Morgan, don’t. There’s no point in searching for more bruises. That’s the only thing he broke.” I froze in my frantic inspection, and a cold, vicious fury coiled in my gut. Confining her to her chambers, perhaps. Revoking privileges, certainly. I could have understood such measures had she done something foolish. But to break her arm? The act was barbaric. I didn’t care what some antiquated prophecy dictated! He had no right, no justification, for such cruelty. A wave of certainty washed over me: she could not stay here with that monster.

“We have to get you out of here, Natalia,” I stated, my tone leaving no room for argument.

“I wish I could, but there’s always a guard posted at the door.” Her eyes tracked my movements, then widened as realization dawned. “How did you get in?” The implications of the key hung in the air between us. She was already thinking what I was: it would be far too suspicious to attempt a breakout on my very first day with access. That wouldn’t work. It was likely the very thing they were waiting for.

“Even if they leave the key to your room just outside the door, they don’t trust me,” I reasoned. “They’re most likely anticipating an escape attempt within the next few days.”

“Well,” she remarked, a grim smile touching her lips, “given the nature of this particular conversation, their paranoia is well-founded.” A humorless laugh passed between us. It was clear we would have to be smarter than them. “I suppose we wait, then. Give them a month. Let them lower their guard. It will also give my arm more time to heal.”

“And it will give me time to gather supplies and map out every potential escape route,” I added, my mind already spinning with possibilities.

“Hey, Morgan,” Natalia said as I finished tying the laces on her gown. I glanced at her questioningly. “People say we could pass for twins at a glance, don’t they?”

“Yeees,” I drew the word out, unsure of her direction.

“And over the next month,” she continued, a strategic light entering her eyes, “the staff will grow accustomed to seeing a girl of our build, with white hair, moving about the castle, won’t they?”

My breath caught in my throat as her plan clicked into place. “And if we are meticulous,” I whispered, the brilliance of it dawning on me, “they’ll simply think it’s me, going about my duties.”

“Bingo,” she breathed, her eyes shining with a dangerous light.