Zayden remarked, “You have distinct feelings for the girl.”
“I experience no emotions,” Jayce countered.
Despite articulating those words, he briefly doubted their veracity. Molly stood apart from the crowd, visibly anxious, biting her lower lip as if she might tear it off. She exhibited reluctance to advance in the queue for inspection, clearly concealing something.
For a brief instant, he considered the possibility that she might be concealing the mark.
Was it possibly an error? He contemplated internally.
Upon observing Vera, she seemed remarkably unremarkable. Her pallid complexion, gentle brown eyes, and smooth blonde hair, styled in a ponytail, failed to captivate him. Not at all resembling anyone he would have deliberately chosen to notice.
“You desire that it could have been Molly, do you not?”
The library was tranquil; few disturbed me here as they did not possess the same passion for literature as I did. I frequently worked here independently, primarily on delivery days, as I excelled in book organisation.
Few servants possessed literacy skills owing to insufficient education. Prior to my arrival at House Valerius Palace, I received homeschooling during my childhood. I was instructed in reading and writing, which subsequently fostered my passion. Upon attaining freedom, my aspiration is to become a writer and chronicle my observations as I traverse the globe.
I had only confided that dream to Kylie.
My mother instilled in me a passion for reading and writing. She was responsible for my homeschooling and the cultivation of my interests. She possessed a passion for literature and aspired for greater opportunities for me. Upon her demise, I was brought to the palace to serve as a slave.
I believed I would never exit the palace gates again, but I have heard that if we perform adequately in due course, the King will endorse the amnesty that will bestow upon us our freedom. We must adhere to the regulations and remain unobtrusive; otherwise, we jeopardise our prospects for freedom.
I needed to secure this amnesty to attain my freedom, both for myself and for my mother. I aimed to make her proud and achieve the objectives she was unable to realise.
The boxes of books were positioned on the library desk, as was customary upon my arrival for my shift. The box was weighty, yet it was manageable for me. I immediately commenced organising the shelves and storing the books.
The aroma of the books consistently transported me to the moment I first opened a book in the modest home of my birthplace in the village. My countenance brightened as I surveyed the vibrant illustrations on each page while my mother recited the text to me.
She passed away when I was 14, and I contemplate her daily. I profoundly miss her.
Upon obtaining my freedom, my initial intention was to revisit the village and see the home of my upbringing.
“Is anyone working today?” A recognisable voice resonated throughout the library, causing me to nearly startle.
I sprang to my feet and struck my head against a low-hanging shelf; I grasped my head and grimaced in pain as I acknowledged the visitor.
I heard his laughter as I exited the book aisle.
His Royal Highness Crown Prince Ashton.
I was relieved that it was him rather than Prince Jayce. Prince Ashton was my most regular visitor due to our mutual enthusiasm for literature. He was the sole Prince to visit the library. While I would not categorise us as friends, he had evolved into an individual with whom I felt sufficiently at ease to discuss literature.
“I apologize,” Ashton laughed as he neared me.
Similar to Jayce, Ashton was a tall and well-proportioned individual. In contrast to Jayce, Ashton demonstrated significantly greater kindness and gentleness.
“I did not intend to alarm you,” he remarked while he massaged the sensitive area on my head that had collided with the shelf.
I gazed up at him with a smile.
“It is acceptable, Your Majesty,” I stated, inclining my head slightly towards him. “We have recently acquired a new collection of books, should you be interested. I have positioned them in the first aisle,” I informed him, gesturing towards the aisle from which I had just emerged.
His grin expanded.
“I will investigate them,” he stated as he proceeded towards the aisle.
I accompanied him to guide him to the location of the latest books; he briefly examined the volumes before looking in my direction.
“Molly?” he enquired, and I recognised that he was gazing at me.
His facial expression was inscrutable, yet it appeared he had something significant to discuss.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” I replied, looking up at him.
“I heard that my brother, Jayce, was searching for the maid he designated last night. Is that accurate?” he enquired.
I scowled; the entire palace was aware of that. It was essentially a witch hunt.
“Affirmative,” I responded. “He existed.”
“And?” he enquired, nearly with trepidation.
I inclined my head to the side, uncertain of his inquiry.
“Did he ultimately locate her?” he enquired.
Indeed.
“Indeed, Your Majesty,” I responded, my countenance flushing.
“Was it you?” he enquired, now fixating on my neck.
I repositioned my hair to conceal the area that Jayce had designated, and I averted my eyes from Ashton’s intense stare.
“No,” I replied, endeavouring to maintain a neutral tone. I could not permit him to perceive my stress. What was the reason for his enquiries? What significance did it hold if it were I? “It was Vera Harford, the head maid. I suppose she is now Lady Vera.” I endeavoured to suppress the bitterness in my tone, but I am certain he perceived it on my countenance.
