A Royal Duty

Awaiting The Prince

Lady Emily Windsor hurled another gown from her wardrobe, its silken folds fluttering as it landed on the stone floor. "Get that rubbish out of my sight, Abigail! You're useless, absolutely useless. How you've managed to make a mess of my entire wardrobe, I've no idea." Abigail stooped to gather the discarded clothes, her eyes cast downward, her expression a picture of calmness.

"Look at this," Lady Emily shouted, holding up a delicate lace gown. "You've ruined it! The lace is crooked, the hem's uneven. What's the point of even having you as my maid?"

Abigail's hands moved methodically, folding each garment with precision, as she replied softly, "Sorry, milady. I'll make sure it's mended for you."

Lady Emily snorted. "Mended? It's beyond repair, just like you."

She paced, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls. "What shall I wear for the Prince's arrival? Something stunning, something that'll make him sit up and take notice." She glared at Abigail. "But with you in charge, I'll probably end up looking like a servant."

Abigail ventured, "Perhaps the blue velvet, milady? Or the silver satin?" but Lady Emily cut her off.

"Don't be ridiculous, Abigail. Those gowns are fit for a village fair, not a royal court."

"Get those gloves out of my sight- do they look like they belong on a lady? You're a disaster, Abigail, a constant reminder of failure."

Abigail's hands trembled slightly, but her expression remained impassive.

Abigail's soft voice cut through Lady Emily's tirade. "Milady, perhaps if you tried on the silver satin, I could adjust the fit to better suit you?" Lady Emily's gaze snapped to Abigail, her eyes blazing with fury.

"How dare you!" Lady Emily spat, her face reddening. "You think you can tell me what to do? You're nothing but a lowly servant!" She strode toward Abigail, her footsteps heavy with anger. Abigail stood frozen, her hands clasped together, as Lady Emily's hand swung through the air.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as Lady Emily's palm connected with Abigail's cheek. The force of the blow sent Abigail stumbling backward, her eyes welling up with tears. Lady Emily's face twisted in rage.

"You'll never tell me what to do, you insolent wretch!" Lady Emily shrieked. "You're nothing but a mere servant, a nobody! You'll do as you're told and be grateful for the privilege of serving me!" Abigail's hand instinctively rose to her cheek, her fingers tracing the burning outline of Lady Emily's handprint.

Abigail's voice trembled, but she spoke with quiet dignity. "Forgive me, milady. I meant only to assist." Lady Emily's laughter was cold, mirthless.

"Assist? You'll assist by doing exactly as I say, when I say it. Now, help me into the silver satin. And don't think for a moment that this is the end of this conversation."

As Abigail helped Lady Emily into the gown, her hands moved with precision, but her eyes betrayed a deep sadness. She knew this was far from the end. Lady Emily's cruelty would only escalate, especially with the Prince's arrival looming. Abigail's thoughts turned to escape, to freedom from this toxic household. But for now, she remained trapped, bound by duty and obligation.

Emily turned and smirked at Abigail. Her gaze scrutinized Abigail's face, her expression twisted in contempt. "You think your beauty will elevate you, don't you, Abigail? You think it will bring you freedom from this life?"

Abigail's eyes dropped, her voice barely audible. "No, milady."

Lady Emily's laughter dripped with malice. "You're fooling yourself. Your looks will only get you so far - and that's nowhere. You'll remain a servant, just like your mother and her mother before her. You'll toil away, unseen and unappreciated, until you're nothing but a worn-out, faded thing."