Veils Of Forever (On Hold)

5

Author pov

As the servant led her down the narrow hallways of the castle, her mind raced, replaying the prince’s words over and over. She was going to stay. She was going to work in the kitchens. Somehow, she had convinced him to keep her here, even though she barely knew how she’d ended up in his world in the first place. But as she walked, she couldn’t shake the strange feeling in her chest—a mix of fear, confusion, and something else. Something that felt too warm, too unsettling, whenever she thought about the way he had looked at her.

The kitchen bustled with life when she arrived—pots clanging, fires roaring, and the chatter of other workers filled the air. The head cook, a sturdy woman with sharp eyes and flour dusted across her apron, looked her up and down with suspicion. “Another one for the kitchens?” she asked, eyeing the servant who had brought her.

The servant nodded curtly. “The general’s orders.”

The cook raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply gesturing for her to follow. “Well, then. You’ll start with the simplest tasks. Let’s see if you can peel a potato without making a mess of things.”

She nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak. Her hands were trembling slightly as she was handed a knife and a basket of vegetables. She had never done this kind of work before—not back in her own world. But there was no choice now. She had to blend in, to keep her head down. The last thing she wanted was to draw any more attention.

But as the hours passed, the heat from the kitchen fires warming her skin, she found herself thinking about him again. The way his eyes had softened, just for a moment, when she had told him her story. He hadn’t believed her completely, of course, but something had stopped him from sending her away.

Why? Why had he let her stay?

By the time the sun had set, she was exhausted, her hands aching from the repetitive tasks. The other kitchen workers barely noticed her—just another pair of hands to help with the endless stream of chores. But as she settled into the small, cramped servants’ quarters that night, her mind kept drifting back to him. She could still feel the weight of his gaze, the way he had looked at her, as if he was trying to figure her out.

__________

Days passed, and though she tried to remain invisible, she couldn’t avoid the prince entirely. Every now and then, their paths would cross—brief moments where she would catch him watching her from across the courtyard, or passing by while she scrubbed floors, his expression unreadable. It was as if he was always there, on the edge of her awareness, silently observing her.

One afternoon, she found herself in the kitchen courtyard, peeling more vegetables for the evening’s meal. Her hands worked mechanically, her thoughts far away, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“You’re still here, I see.”

She jumped slightly, the knife slipping from her fingers as she spun around. There he was, standing tall and imposing, but with that same flicker of curiosity in his eyes. The general—no, the prince. He seemed to be everywhere.

Her heart raced. “Y-Your Highness,” she stammered, hastily wiping her hands on her apron and standing up.

He stepped closer, glancing down at the pile of potatoes she had been working on. “Not the life you imagined for yourself, I’m sure.”

She bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. What could she say? That no, this wasn’t the life she had imagined—especially not in this strange, unfamiliar world, working as a servant in his castle. But at the same time, she knew she couldn’t afford to complain. She was here, safe for now, and that was all that mattered.