Malyn squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. It was a habit she’d developed to stay alert whenever she felt extremely drowsy. She couldn’t yawn in front of her mistress, nor could she take a nap—this was her only option.

But today her luck had run out. The person she was serving had noticed her sleepy expression.

“Are you tired?”

The blonde asked in a low voice, her hands still working on her embroidery. Malyn jumped and looked up into her clear blue eyes.

“No… I’m sorry.”

“At times like this, you should admit that you have committed a serious offence.”

The blonde woman spoke casually. Of course, simply closing one’s eyes in sleep wasn’t exactly a crime worthy of punishment. But Malyn threw herself to the ground, her knees hitting the stone with a thud that sent a jolt through her body. Tears gathered in her eyes and instead of biting her lip, she cried out.

“I have committed a grave sin!”

“Enough. Stand up.”

“…Yes…”

Malyn tried to rise carefully, her eyes watching for any sign of her mistress’s mood, almost tripping again in her long maid’s dress. The older maid nearby clicked her tongue in silent disapproval, careful not to let her mistress hear. Even without a sound, Malyn could clearly see the contempt in the older maid’s eyes.

But what choice did she have? Malyn rose slowly, adjusting her dress. The room was silent again – the same silence that had lulled her to sleep before. The blonde woman resumed her work as if nothing had happened, her hands moving skillfully as the red thread traced a slow path across the embroidery hoop.

‘What could possibly be so captivating about that, to spend days on it?’

Malyn stared blankly at the embroidery hoop in the lady’s hands. She had been working on it for three days straight, dedicating whole days to the task.

‘Well, I suppose standing here is better than soaking my hands in lye,’ Malyn thought.

For the past three days she had been at her mistress’s side, watching her embroider, bringing her water when she was thirsty or massaging her legs. Occasionally she would massage her shoulders. That was the job of twenty-year-old Malyn.

“What is your name?”

The blonde woman suddenly looked up and asked. Startled, Malyn replied quickly.

“M-Malyn, ma’am.”

“Mamarlyn. Right. Mamarlyn, go to the stables and let them know that I’ll be taking Parady out shortly.

It seemed the woman had mistaken Malyn’s nervous stammer for her name. But Malyn could not bring herself to correct her. She simply bowed her head and withdrew, walking backwards with a slight bow. That she almost tripped was her own little secret.

Creak.

As soon as the door closed, Malyn straightened up. A servant standing at the door smiled mischievously. It was no surprise – the sight of the maids bowing to the princess, only to straighten up as soon as the door closed, must have been amusing.

Malyn wrinkled her nose, ignored the servant and quickened her pace. Although she’d only been in the castle for a day, she’d already memorised the floor plan and knew exactly where the stables were.

“Sir, Princess Layla said she’d be taking Paradi out shortly.”

From the mention of the stables, she assumed Paradi was likely the name of a horse. As she relayed the message to the stable master, Malyn wiped her nose. The weather was still chilly, and unlike the warm room of the princess where a fire had been burning, the stables allowed a bit of the cold wind to seep in. The middle-aged stable master nodded kindly in response.

“Got it. And who are you?”

“I am a maid of the princess…”

When Malyn hesitated, the stable master snorted.

“I can tell you’re one of the princess’s maids just by listening to you. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you among her maids before.”

“I started working for the princess a week ago. My name is Malyn.”

“Malyn, huh. Judging by your name, you’re a commoner, aren’t you?”

“What? Uh, yeah…”

“Got it. Off you go.”

The stable master just shrugged and dismissed her. Malyn pouted a little before leaving the stables. She had half expected him to start a fight, but instead he simply asked if she was a commoner and let her go. It was the umpteenth time something like this had happened, and Malyn found it rather strange – she had never been in a place where there was so little prejudice.

Becoming Princess Layla’s maid had been purely by chance.

A girl with no parents to protect her managed to grow up just fine until the age of twenty. The challenges she faced along the way weren’t unique to Malyn. She did all kinds of work, without much distinction, and lived without even giving her calloused hands a chance to soften. Sometimes, she worked as a maid at an inn, other times as a lookout for thieves, but mostly, she survived by begging on the streets. She repeated the cycle of picking up whatever work she could find, only to run off when things went wrong. Eventually, Malyn ended up in the capital city of Dion, the kingdom where she lived.

Although it was called a royal castle, the castle of Dion – a vassal state under Veldam – was not very large. Around two thousand houses were scattered around its rough stone walls. Looking for a decent job, Malyn ended up working on a nearby farm, preparing feed for the cattle.

The owner of the farm, who ran a fairly large estate, promised Malyn two silver coins a year. But a month later, he suddenly asked her, “Would you be willing to work in the castle?” It seemed unusual for a simple farmer to use such a formal word as “willing”, but apparently he had picked up the phrase from someone in the castle.

The farmer openly admitted that he would be paid a silver coin for sending a maid to work at the castle, while the maid herself would be paid a gold coin a year. Malyn didn’t have to think twice; she immediately agreed to go.

She expected to end up cutting hay for the horses or doing something similar, but to her surprise, when she arrived at the castle, Malyn found herself standing in front of a middle-aged woman who looked at her and asked her a series of questions.

“Do you have parents?”

“A home?”

“No other relatives?”

Malyn answered all three questions briefly, saying that she had none. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through her mind. Would they really hire a young woman with no family, no home and no guarantor to work in the castle? Should she have lied and said she had parents?

Unexpectedly, the woman simply nodded and told her to go to the dressmaker. Another maid led Malyn into the sewing room, where she was measured and fitted with clothes. They were made of fine linen, almost dazzling, and the sight of them suddenly filled Malyn with fear.

‘Could it be that instead of hiring me as a maid, they’re planning to throw me into some nobleman’s bed?’

Malyn’s guess was half right and half wrong.

She would indeed be tending the bed of a noble – but this noble was not the old, pot-bellied man she had imagined. Instead, it was a thin, silent woman: Layla Dion, Princess of Dion.

At first, Malyn was so stunned by the idea that someone like her – a nobody – had not only been hired as a maid, but chosen to serve the princess, that she immediately protested, insisting that she couldn’t do it.

“I can’t serve such a noble lady! I’ve never even been around anyone so important before!”

“You can do it. No one is perfect from the start.”

The middle-aged woman who had chosen her simply shook her head. Malyn later learned that this woman was Dion’s head lady-in-waiting, responsible for overseeing all female servants and attendants.  She had been specifically searching for a young maid to serve the princess. Upon hearing of a girl who might be suitable, she decided to assess her in person.

Although Malyn was frightened and insisted that she had no skills beyond preparing food for the cattle, the head lady-in-waiting remained resolute.

After just three days of training on the dos and don’ts of serving the princess, Malyn was brought before her. When the head lady-in-waiting introduced Malyn as the new maid, the princess merely replied, “Understood,” and said nothing more.

That had been only a week ago.