Destined Across Time | LadaEarn

Chapter 7 [M]

After the grand banquet had finally come to an end, the palace halls fell into a peaceful quiet. The air, once thick with laughter and music, seemed to settle like a soft blanket, leaving behind only the faint echoes of celebration. Servants moved briskly through the corridors, tidying up the remnants of the evening's festivities, while the royal guests retired to their private quarters, their murmured conversations gradually fading into silence. 

Earn, however, had another duty to fulfill before she could retreat to the solitude of her small chamber. She carried a tray with a steaming teapot and a delicate porcelain cup, its ornate design befitting the royal household, and made her way towards the princess’s private chambers. Her footsteps were light but steady, though her heart seemed to pound with each step, its rhythm loud in her ears. There was a weight pressing against her chest—a heaviness that had settled there ever since the banquet. She couldn’t help but think back to the sight of Fahlada and Mean strolling through the moonlit gardens, the distance between them and her own helplessness. 

When she reached the door to Fahlada’s chamber, she hesitated. The carved wooden door, adorned with gilded flourishes, seemed like an impassable barrier. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to set aside her lingering doubts and lifted her hand to knock lightly. The sound echoed in the stillness, and after a moment, the door creaked open. 

Inside, the room was dimly lit by the glow of a single lantern, casting flickering shadows across the silk curtains and the polished floor. Fahlada was seated by the window, the moonlight illuminating her graceful form as she gazed out at the starry sky. She turned at the sound of the door, and her expression softened when she saw Earn standing there. “You’ve brought my tea,” she said warmly, her voice as soothing as the evening breeze that drifted in through the open window. There was a fondness in her tone—a kind of familiarity that had always existed between them, even when others were present.

Earn’s hands trembled slightly as she placed the tray on the small table beside the window. She kept her gaze lowered, focusing on the teapot as she poured the steaming liquid into the cup. “Yes, Your Highness,” she replied, her voice calm and steady, but there was a strain in the formality that didn’t go unnoticed. It was a stark contrast to the playful, easy tone she often used when they were alone. Now, it was as though a wall had suddenly been erected between them.

Fahlada’s brow furrowed, her smile faltering. “Earn, are you all right?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. She could see the tension in the maid’s posture, the way she avoided her gaze, and the way her hands moved with an almost mechanical precision. “You seem… different.”

“If there is nothing else you need, Your Highness,” Earn said, her tone remaining formal and detached as she set the teapot down. She stepped back as if to put distance between them. “Then I will take my leave.” 

Fahlada’s heart tightened at the words. She recognized this distance—it was not born from respect, but from pain. She rose from her seat, taking a few steps towards Earn, her expression shifting from confusion to something deeper, a hurt that she hadn’t expected to feel. “Earn… why are you speaking to me like that?” she asked softly, the words trembling on her lips. “Why are you keeping yourself away from me?” 

“It is how I should speak to you, Your Highness,” Earn answered, her gaze still fixed on the floor, as though looking at Fahlada would shatter whatever resolve she had left. “After all, I am just a maid. Nothing more.” The words tasted bitter as they left her mouth, but they were the truth—at least, that was what she kept telling herself. A maid had no right to harbor such feelings for a princess, especially one who was soon to be wed.

Fahlada’s expression softened as the realization dawned on her, the pieces falling into place. The distance, the formality—it wasn’t born from anger or indifference. It was fear, the fear of losing what little they had shared. “So, that’s what this is about,” she murmured under her breath, her voice breaking slightly. Without a second thought, she closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around Earn from behind. Her embrace was warm and desperate, as though she were trying to keep the maid from slipping away. “Don’t say things like that,” Fahlada whispered against her ear, her breath brushing against the side of Earn’s neck. “I need you, Earn. Don’t you understand? You are so much more to me than you realize.”