Mortal Fantasy

✴｜chapter seven

For some reason, my heart leaps into my throat.

I tighten my fingers around the door jamb, preparing myself to react, but when I open the door it is not who I would expect it to be.

I give a hasty laugh. "Er..."

The young, red-headed maid at the door is on her hands and knees, scouring the floor, but she perks at the sound of my voice.

"Oh, excuse me, my lady," she says, rising and pocketing something. Her smile is bright—a pleasant contrast to the expressions I've seen around the palace so far. "I had dropped a morsel of bread."

I stare at the girl. I don't think I have ever quite met a person so genuine.

"Oh. Um... who are you?"

"I'm your personal maid." The girl sinks into the deepest curtsy my eyes have ever seen. "I can clean, cook, sew... prepare baths, do your hair, wash the clothes, tidy the room—"

"What?"

The young maid sighs and smiles wistfully at me. "You belong to the prince. Of course you must be kept in the best condition, meaning your room must be just so." She hesitates, her large jade eyes tentative. "I've seen so many concubines in the palace, and I know just how terrible it can be... but..."

"Yes?" I prompt her, genuinely curious.

A splendent blush comes over her. "But I've heard he's terribly handsome!" she bursts, literally bouncing on her toes. "Is it true? Have you seen him?"

I gape at her for a few moments, wondering how she could possibly be so enthusiastic over the prince, and clear my throat.

"Um." I swallow. "He's... he's nice—"

"And you're so beautiful," the maid gushes, touching my hands. Her demeanor softens, and she says quietly, "You're so real. Most of the people who come here aren't people anymore, just... broken pieces of them." She flushes. "I apologize if I'm being too forthright. I know it isn't within your control, but you... you still seem to be full of soul, Miss Ithena."

I can't help but warm to the girl's sweetness. I smile and touch her shoulder, bending to match her height. "Thank you. What's your name?"

She seems bashful at my inquisition. "I'm Adlyn, miss."

"Well, Adlyn," I say, "come in. I'm sure you'll find a lot to do here."

Adlyn walks past me, rotating her small body as she takes in the chambers. "You have such a pretty room," she breathes. Then, seeming to remember something, she pipes, "I'll begin cleaning."

"Oh, no, there's no need," I laugh. "I'm satisfied with how it is now. It's alright."

"Oh." Adlyn seems to reconsider, and hesitates. "Then I suppose I'll take your leave, Miss Ithena..."

"Actually..." I cradle my arms. "I would appreciate the company, Adlyn."

Her hazel eyes open wide in surprise, but she consents with a poorly concealed smile. "Of course, miss."

"Please, just Ithena. I couldn't possibly become accustomed to something as formal as... Miss Ithena."

Adlyn's face twists in concentration. "Erm. I—Ithe—..." She frowns, the expression full of sadness. "I'll have to practice..."

I sigh, looking to the terrace. "I suppose you'll get to practice all you want. I don't think I'm going anywhere."

It is nothing but a joke, but I realize that it is painfully true.