Legacy of The Enchanted

The Unexpected Savior

(Taryn's P.O.V)

The first week in the palace is a waking nightmare. The fae is forbidden from speaking to each other unless necessary, creating an oppressive silence that hangs over our cramped quarters. We sleep in dingy, windowless rooms, with barely enough space to lie down without touching the person next to us. The air is thick with the stench of sweat and fear. Our meals consist of leftovers from the human servants—scraps of food that are often stale, half-eaten, or spoiled.

Our uniforms are thin black shifts with itchy brown tops that rub against our skin, causing rashes and sores. The metal cuffs on our wrists are a constant reminder of our imprisonment. They are enchanted, suppressing our magic and making us weaker. Only the Queen has the key to unlock them, a symbol of her absolute power over us. The cuffs, heavy and cold,  bite into our skin, leaving bruises and welts.

The rules are strict and cruel: we are not allowed to say no. Our superiors can do whatever they want to us, and we must comply. Disobedience is met with swift and brutal punishment. I've seen fae beaten, starved, and even killed for the smallest infractions. I quickly learn to blend into the shadows, doing my work quietly and avoiding drawing attention to myself.

One night, I am sent to clean up after a party thrown by a group of rich, young nobles. The room is a mess—broken glass, spilled wine, and food scattered everywhere. I work diligently, my hands raw from scrubbing. The nobles' laughter and mockery echo in my mind as I clean up their filth.

After finishing the cleaning, I find myself wandering the grand halls of the palace. I can't help but imagine what it would be like to be a royal, to walk these halls with power and freedom. Lost in my thoughts, I don't realize I've strayed into the Queen's private wing until it's too late.

A guard spots me and his face twists with anger. "What are you doing here, you worthless elf?" he snarls, grabbing me by the arm and shaking me roughly.

"I-I got lost," I stammer, but my explanation falls on deaf ears.

"Got lost?" he mocks, his grip tightening painfully. "Or were you snooping around where you don't belong?"

Before I can respond, he begins to beat me, each blow sending waves of pain through my body. "You don't belong here," he spits. "Thinking you can just wander around like a human. You're nothing but trash."

He kicks me in the ribs, and I gasp for breath, tears streaming down my face. "Please," I beg, "I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up," he barks, striking me again. "You fae think you're so special with your magic and your airs. But you're nothing. Just slaves. And you're going to learn your place."

Just as I think I can't endure anymore, a commanding voice rings out. "What do you think you're doing?"

The guard freezes, his grip on me loosening. I look up to see a girl around my age, her presence radiating authority. She's dressed in fine clothes, and her eyes burn with anger directed at the guard.

"Princess Alessandra," the guard stammers, fear evident in his voice.

"Why are you touching my servant?" she demands, stepping closer. "Did I give you permission to lay a hand on her?"

"N-no, Your Highness," the guard stutters, bowing his head. "I-I didn't know she was—"

"Never touch her again," she cuts him off sharply. "Now, get out of my sight."

The guard scurries away, leaving me trembling and bruised. The girl turns to me, her expression softening. "Are you all right?"

I nod, still in shock. "Thank you," I manage to whisper.

"We need to get out of here before my aunt finds us," she says urgently, pulling me to my feet. "Come on."

As we hurry through the halls, the realization dawns on me. This girl is Princess Alessandra, the Queen's niece. The least likely person to be willing to help me.

She leads me through the labyrinthine corridors with practiced ease, finally arriving at a secluded, luxurious wing. "This is my private wing," she explains, opening a door to a spacious, elegantly furnished room. "You'll be safe here."

I step inside, my legs still trembling from the ordeal. The room is a stark contrast to the squalid quarters I've been living in—clean, quiet, and warm.

"Why are you helping me?" I ask, unable to hide my confusion.

Alessandra closes the door behind us and turns to me, her expression serious. "Because there's something special about you, Taryn. I can sense it. And I need someone I can trust. From now on, you're going to be my personal servant."

"Why me?" I ask, bewildered.

She looks at me intently, as if weighing her words carefully. "I see a strength in you that others might overlook. And I believe you and I are meant to help each other. Trust me, Taryn. Together, we can change things." a glimmer of hope ignites within me.