The letter came in, gold gilded and written in the most prestigious handwriting.

My mother was beyond happy to finally send me off into the world as a maid.

“Remember I’ve taught you well,” she said, packing my bag with gleam.

I said nothing nor reacted to the letter. I was numb and in shock.

The letter simply read:

**_Dear Jane,

We would be honored to accept you into the palace for your service as a maid.

From your Royal Hignesses,

Darney and Seraphine Lonest_**

The last thing I can remember was my mother pulling me in an embrace and telling me should loved me. My numb lips vaguely moved with a quiet “I love you too”. Then I was off in a carriage, having lost my home and my freedom.

I knew my free time was forever lost and that my wages would surely go to my mother.

I was again numb.

“Wash the dishes before and after breakfast. The Queen is very picky about cleanliness. And don’t forget to _always_ look presentable,” Robin said plucking me around the kitchens and servants quarters. “Your bedroom is small, but comfortable. It is almost dark, so you may have your night to rest.”

And so I did.

The next morning I woke early and dressed in the fine uniform I was given. I put my hair into a bun and made sure to put on a hat. Immediately I was put to work, helping the others present breakfast.

“Don’t stare at the Queen, and the King likes a lot of food on his plate,” Robin explained quickly, telling me how I am to serve the royals breakfast.

“And what of Prince Davian?” I ask.

“The Prince likes his breakfast taken up to his room. I suppose you can do that; you two are similar in age.”

Yes indeed, we both were 17, though it is clear one is more successful.

I carefully went up the stairs with the breakfast tray in hand.

I was a bit nervous; Prince Davian was beyond handsome, but I also heard he was a bit cruel.

His door comes before me and I softly knock.

“Your breakfast, sir, I mean, your Highness,” I stumbled my words.

“Come in,” his deep voice uttered.

I opened the door and was present to many luxuries and colors.

The Prince was sitting at his desk, writing a report.

I set his breakfast on his table and bowed.

His icy blue eyes caught mine and he tilted his head in curiosity.

“What is your name?” He asked in a sweet, yet snarky tone.

I blushed scarlet. “Jane, Jane September.”

“What an odd name for such a pretty little girl,” he said smirking.

“I am not little; I turned 17 this past April—“

“I don’t remember asking your age,” he said. “But it is a nice piece of information to know, I suppose.”

Completely embarrassed and ashamed, I bow my head.

“Why do you look so sorrowful, Jane?” He asks, with a hint of sincerity.

“I was brought here against my dreams. I do not wish this life—“

Prince Davian laughed. “You do not wish to live with royalty?”

“No. Look, I didn’t ask to be picked. None of us did, I’m sure. But why talk about this, I am a maid, I must go to my duties. Good day.”

Prince Davian looked as if he’d try to keep me to talk to, but quickly disregarded that thought.

I left with blushed cheeks and a slight thread of hope that this place wouldn’t be so bad.