The next morning, Liliana took breakfast in her chambers—not by her own choice, but at the insistence of her handmaiden. Marianne wished to spare her lady the earful her mother would surely have given her in the dining hall. Liliana herself wouldn’t have cared, but she gratefully accepted the offer nonetheless.
Marianne’s been a little overprotective ever since I lost my voice, Liliana thought. Still, there was something strangely pleasant about it.
After eating at her leisure, Liliana decided to take a post-meal stroll in the courtyard. She changed into a simple yet refined dress that allowed for easy movement, then headed outside with Marianne.
As they made their way through the spacious courtyard, Liliana took in the scenery. Rows of tables and chairs were arranged in preparation for tomorrow’s banquet. Gorgeous flowers stood in full bloom, their pleasant fragrance mingling with the mouthwatering aroma of freshly made food. A wall blocked her view of the cookhouse, but she could still see the treetops of the deep forest rising behind it.
Liliana was musing on how different the courtyard and forest looked in the light of day compared to at night when she suddenly felt someone’s gaze on her. She turned toward the cookhouse just in time to see Petra approaching, clad in a robe. The mage seemed her usual self—save for the particularly sour look on her face.
“Good morning, young lady,” Petra greeted.
Liliana smiled and dipped into a slight bow. “Good morning,” she replied.
Petra smirked, the sole recipient of her student’s telepathy. “This place is insane. Luxurious as they come. They stuck me in a servant’s room, and it’s still fancier than my lodgings back home.”
She must mean the boardinghouse where the Ministry of Magic houses its mages.
Marianne, standing in her usual spot behind her lady, was visibly struggling to contain her anger at Petra’s casual, borderline rude demeanor. Liliana tilted her head with a troubled look, fully aware of her handmaiden’s frustration.
“If there’s anything you want to tell me, save it for the trip back. You never know who might be listening.”
Liliana could think of only one reason the mage had been waiting for her—there was something she wished to say. A flicker of surprise crossed Petra’s face, so brief that only Liliana would have noticed, before the mage masked it with an aloof expression and changed the subject.
“Must be nice working here,” she said, her lips curling into a cheerful grin. “Breakfast was great and all. Shame the ministry doesn’t allow side hustles.”
“Is that so,” Marianne replied, clearly eager to end the exchange. Had her lady been speaking to a noble, she would have had no choice but to hold her tongue. Anything less would have been a breach of etiquette. But Petra was a commoner.
With casual disregard, the mage reached for her student’s nape, paying the handmaiden no mind. Marianne’s frustration spiked, but Liliana motioned for her to stand down. A mysterious twinkle danced in Petra’s violet eyes.
The mage reached through the curtain of Liliana’s long silver hair, adjusted the collar of her dress, then withdrew. “Take this amulet, and don’t let anyone see it,” she murmured. Then, quieter still, “This place stinks—even more than the ministry.”
Liliana smiled. A pendant now hung from her neck, hidden beneath her clothes. For Petra to have called it an amulet, it had to be capable of warding off magic and hexes.
“Thank you. I’m touched you’d go to the trouble.”
“There we go.” Petra stepped back, ignoring the stern look on Marianne’s face. “Your collar was twisted. I was hired to deal with monsters on the road, so I can’t be of much help here at the estate, but let me know if you need me for anything.”
Marianne had dressed Liliana for their outing, so Petra’s remark was as good as a declaration of war. But before the handmaiden could argue, the mage waved and left. Only once she was fully out of sight did Marianne step out from her lady’s shadow.
“Good grief... She acts far too familiar with you, my lady.”
Evidently, Marianne was bothered not by Petra’s origins but by her attitude. It was rare to see her get so flustered.
They’re like-minded, in a way—not that Marianne would want to hear it.
Petra seemed to take delight in upsetting the handmaiden. And even when Marianne grew angry, her responses weren’t particularly harsh. Amused by the whole situation, Liliana had to suppress a smile as she resumed her stroll.
After a while—the courtyard was rather large—Liliana decided to return to her chambers. Passing the venue for the upcoming banquet, she peered inside...and immediately locked eyes with her mother, Belinda. The woman’s face twisted in disgust.
“Wretch.”
Liliana froze, rooted to the spot, unable to process the insult. Though it was just one word, it oozed resentment, worming its way through her ears and spreading like poison. She could feel Marianne stiffen behind her.
“Get out of my sight,” Belinda snapped, averting her gaze. “Or better yet, get eaten by a monster.”
Her maid stared at Liliana as if she were garbage, likely under her lady’s venomous influence. Then the two women left, abandoning the preparations entirely. Only once they were gone did time seem to resume for Liliana and Marianne.
“My lady,” Marianne uttered, struggling to get the words out.
Liliana turned to see her talented handmaiden white as a sheet, fighting to contain her rage. She offered a small smile in an attempt to soothe her.
Marianne’s face creased, her lips trembling as she wrestled with the urge to speak. Her fists were clenched so tightly it seemed she might draw blood. Liliana reached out and gently touched Marianne’s hands—and at once, the tension left her.
I know she feels sorry for me, but it pains me to see her like this.