𝒜 ℋℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉 ℴ𝒻 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝓉ℯℯ𝓁

Chapter Eight - Ava

Chapter Eight - Ava

The first few weeks at Evervale Palace had passed in a whirlwind, each day blending into the next like a blurred memory. Every morning, I woke to the clang of the kitchen bells, signaling the start of another grueling day. I would rush out of the cramped servants' quarters, pulling my apron tight around my waist as I hurried to my duties, always with the hope that maybe today would feel easier, less overwhelming. But it never did.

There were too many rules, so many unspoken expectations I was still struggling to understand, and far too many people who didn't even know my name. I was just another maid, one of dozens who worked tirelessly to keep the palace running like clockwork. The halls of the palace, with their towering arches, intricate stone carvings, and lavish tapestries, felt more like a labyrinth than a home. Every corner seemed to reveal another task, another chore waiting to be completed. There was no room for mistakes, no room for rest.

From sunrise to sunset, my life was a relentless cycle of scrubbing, polishing, dusting, and carrying. My muscles ache in ways they never had before. I had grown up accustomed to hard work, spending my early years in the open fields, my hands calloused from toiling under the sun, but this... this was different. Here, there was no freedom, no sense of space. The walls of the palace felt like they were closing in on me with each passing day, the grandeur of it all more suffocating than impressive. And with every fleeting moment, I found myself yearning for the open skies, for the wind beneath my wings—a longing I could never express aloud.

Because I wasn't just a maid.

I was a Moonlight Dragon in disguise, after all, but no one here could know that. It was a secret I carried like a burden, wrapped tightly in the skin of a simple servant girl. To everyone else, I was just Ava—the quiet, unassuming new maid who worked without complaint. But in truth, I was so much more. I was something wild, something ancient. My true self, my true nature, was hidden away, concealed beneath layers of deception. The knowledge of what I was, who I truly was, weighed on me like a heavy stone pressing against my chest, suffocating me with each passing moment. And yet, I had no choice.

This was the life Madam Luna had given me, though I still didn't understand why. I had been plucked from my old life and thrust into this one without explanation, left to navigate the palace's endless corridors and suffocating rules, pretending to be something I was not. Madam Luna had been cryptic, as always, offering little in the way of answers. She had merely told me that this was where I needed to be, that my destiny lay within these walls. But every day, as I scrubbed floors and polished silver, I questioned her judgment. What destiny could possibly await me here, disguised as a servant, surrounded by nobles who would never see me for what I truly was?

It had been nearly three weeks since I arrived at the palace, and still, I had no answers. But everything changed one late afternoon, as the sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow through the palace windows. I had just finished cleaning one of the grand guest rooms in the west wing, my thoughts far away as I moved through the halls, distracted by memories of what it felt like to be free. The wind, the open sky, the rush of flight... It had been so long since I had spread my wings, so long since I had felt the night air beneath them.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't see him until it was too late.

I rounded a corner too quickly, my arms full of freshly laundered linens, and collided head-on with someone. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, sending the linens flying from my arms, tumbling to the ground in a flurry of white. I let out a small gasp, staggering backward as I tried to catch my balance.

"I'm so sorry—" I started, my words rushed and breathless, but the apology died in my throat as I looked up and met his gaze.

He was tall, with dark hair that fell just above his striking eyes, his posture radiating a natural confidence that seemed to come as easily as breathing. He was dressed in royal attire—leather bracers on his forearms, a finely stitched tunic that marked him as someone important, though I didn't need the clothes to tell me that. His very presence, the way he carried himself, told me all I needed to know.

This was Prince Dante.

My heart skipped a beat, and a wave of panic surged through me. I had heard whispers of the two princes of Evervale—Prince Asher, the younger of the two, who had recently slain the Nightwing Dragon and was already becoming a legend, and his older brother, Dante, who was known for his charm, his mischief, and his sharp wit. The maids gossiped endlessly about them, but I had never expected to encounter either prince so directly.

Yet here I was, standing before Prince Dante, with a pile of linens scattered at our feet.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being bumped into by a maid. "Careful there," he said, his voice light but laced with amusement. He bent down to help gather the linens that had scattered across the floor. "Are you alright?"

I blinked, still in shock that he was speaking to me at all. My heart was racing, and I fumbled to find my voice. "Y-yes, Your Highness. I didn't mean to—" I scrambled to pick up the linens, avoiding his gaze, my hands shaking slightly from embarrassment and nerves.

"Please," he interrupted with a casual wave of his hand, "just Dante. No need for all the formalities." He handed me the last of the linens with a slight smile. "I'm not my brother, after all."

There was something almost playful in his tone, a kind of effortless charm that made me pause. I had expected him to be aloof or impatient, like so many of the other nobles I had encountered in the palace, but Dante was different. He seemed more relaxed, less concerned with the strict social hierarchy that governed every interaction within these walls.

"Thank you, Your—Dante," I corrected myself quickly, clutching the linens tightly to my chest. "I'm really sorry for running into you."

He waved off my apology with a grin. "Don't worry about it. I've been run into by much bigger things." He winked, his smile widening as if sharing a private joke.

I felt a flush of heat creep up my neck, embarrassment mingling with something else—something unfamiliar and unsettling. "Thank you," I mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

He studied me for a moment, his gaze lingering a little longer than necessary, and I couldn't help but wonder if he could see through my disguise. Could he sense the dragon beneath the surface? But then he smiled again, that same easy, carefree smile, and the tension between us dissolved.

"Well, if you ever need help finding your way—or if you just want to escape the chaos for a bit—let me know," he said, his tone lighthearted, but there was something genuine in the offer. "I know all the secret spots in this place."

I couldn't help but smile back, despite my nerves. "Thank you," I said softly, unsure if I would ever take him up on that offer but grateful for the kindness nonetheless.

Dante nodded, giving me one last glance before turning to leave. "Take care, Ava," he said over his shoulder as he walked away, his voice carrying effortlessly down the hall.

I froze. He had called me by my name. I hadn't told him my name.

As I stood there, still clutching the linens to my chest, I realized with a sinking feeling that nothing in this palace was quite as it seemed. Even the prince, with his charming smile and carefree demeanor, was more than what he appeared to be.

And as the days continued, I found myself thinking more and more about Prince Dante, wondering what secrets he might be hiding behind that disarming smile.