Life in the palace.

"I had thought the rumors were false. So, is it true? Does the Mafia Prince exist?" I choked out, suddenly feeling a sharp pain, like that of a spear, inside my belly, and I groaned out in pain.

"Did you poison me?" I asked with widened eyes, and she hissed at me in response.

"Ah! Of course not. Have you forgotten what I told you? We won't hurt you unless the prince commands us to, and as of now, we have received no such orders!" She replied. Although I should have been shivering with fear, not knowing when such an order might come, I felt a strange sense of relief, happy that I would be alive for a while longer.

"Look, I didn't mean to frighten you, but I also know that I'm not supposed to keep secrets from you. That's why I'm telling you this: Life in this castle can be fascinating, as long as you know how to mind your own business. Because if you're the type who doesn't, you will hate it here," the maid advised, and I nodded in understanding.

"Hmm, what about the other maid? The one that collapsed to the ground?" I inquired respectfully.

"Oh, Beauty!" The maid's face twisted into a look of scorn. "She's doing well, except that she's not responding to treatment," she replied, her smile mischievously wide.

"You don't seem sad about it," I observed. You might wonder how I knew—well, it's simple: she had a deep smile on her face, and her dimples were pronounced.

"Why should I be sad about it? Even if she dies, good riddance to bad rubbish! I couldn't care less about her demise. Who knows, everyone might even label me her murderer!" The maid smiled, her dimples glowing, and for a few seconds, I was lost, staring into her eyes.

It was then that I fully understood what was going on.

The maid was no friend of Beauty; they despised each other.

"You know, Beauty and I were once best friends, but everything changed after she got promoted to the prince's maid. She changed her attitude towards me, completely forgetting that we both entered this palace as kitchen maids—the most stressful job in the history of maid service!" She replied curtly, and my curiosity deepened.

"The most stressful job? Wow! But then why was she promoted while you were left behind? Isn't that unfair?" I asked, sounding as naive as I felt.

"No, it's not unfair, nor is it cheating or favoritism. It's simply luck; she was favored, and I was genuinely happy for her at first. But her heart harbored envy for me. She was so jealous that she tried to harm me in my dreams. Since that day, we've been at odds, and we stopped talking to each other. That wasn't all; on many occasions, Beauty was seen tormenting me. After enduring her torments, I decided to stand up for myself, and since then, I've been known as the 'demon lord'," she explained, her voice heavy with the weight of a broken friendship.

As she shared her story, it became clear that there were multiple layers of complexity in her relationship with Beauty.

She continued, her voice trembling with emotion, "It's not easy being labeled as such, but I had to survive. The palace is rife with liars, deceit, and hatred, and sometimes you have to become something you're not just to make it through the day."

I listened attentively, recognizing the toll that palace life had taken on her. It was clear that she still harbored feelings for her friend Beauty, and I sensed there was more to the story than she had revealed. Yet I chose not to probe further, letting the sleeping dog lie.

She wiped away a stray tear, attempting to regain her composure. Despite her efforts to appear bold, I saw through her façade a timid woman desperate for friendship, for someone to genuinely care about her.

"You don't have to worry or feel bad about it; we all have our secrets," I tried to comfort her, but she shook her head.

"No, no! I didn't share this with you to gain your sympathy but to help you understand that this castle has its own rules. Living here requires strength and courage, and you must be prepared for the worst. I am not just a servant; I am a maid. And if a maid must endure such trials, imagine what a mere slave like you might face," she said, her gaze meeting mine with a blend of vulnerability and resolve.

I remained silent, pondering her words, unable to disagree.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me. By the way, you mentioned you wouldn't hurt me unless the prince orders it. Does that mean you're friends with the prince?" I asked cautiously, striving to maintain a calm and normal tone.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief and pride.

"Oh, yes, I am. I have a good rapport with him, and he values my services highly," she replied in a tone laced with menace, smiling slyly.

I observed her, puzzled by the meaning of her smile. "Your smile is mysterious, ma'am, and your face and dimples shine like beautiful sunshine," I said, admiring her beauty, and the maid seemed genuinely taken aback by my praise.

"Don't be so cheesy, girl. And don't worry; you'll learn to live in this world, just like the rest of us. But remember, curiosity can be dangerous. Be cautious with your words and questions," the mischievous-looking maid advised me, warming my heart with the thought that I might have someone who cared about me in this strange place.

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and another maid entered with a stern and serious expression.

"Enough chatter. It's time to prepare for the evening. The prince will be hosting guests, and we must ensure everything is in order," she declared briskly, then left without awaiting a reply.

The mischievous maid shot me a sly grin before following the other, leaving me alone with my whirlwind of thoughts and unanswered questions.

Seated on my bed, lost in thought, I wished I could follow the other maids. However, having been instructed to rest on my first day in the palace, I remained.

As I reflected on my life, I realized how fortunate I was to be here. Back home, I was branded a murderer, accused of killing my parents. There, I was the subject of vile accusations and rumors.

But in this place, I am a blank slate. No one knows my name, age, my mother's name, or how old my grandmother is. There is nothing for them to discuss or gossip about. At most, they could only speak of how I was purchased, and the price for which I was sold, information that only Lord Nunew could disclose, given that none accompanied him to the slave dealer's den.

"The palace is a breeding ground for wild animals, like wolves! It teems with jealousy, envy, and pride!" I recalled the mischievous-looking maid's words, and my heart ached for my grandmother, realizing just how much I missed her.

By now, she would likely be in the hospital, stubbornly refusing treatment and food.

My grandmother became like a second mother to me after my parents' passing. She took in me and several other children, and we warmly welcomed her into our family.

She moved into my parents' house to live with me. Leaving was not an option, as I was the rightful heir to my parents' lifetime of hard work.

My parents were wealthy, owning houses, cars, lands, farms, and a clothing company. Upon their death, all was bequeathed to me, but my avaricious uncles and aunts stripped me of everything, frustrated that my parents had left them nothing. My father had only set aside a modest sum for my grandmother.

I wasn't surprised by my father's actions. At the time, our extended family despised my mother, prompting my father to cut ties with them.

I learned through a trustworthy source that they didn't even attend the formal wedding.

Why, you ask? The reason is simple: my mother was from a poor family, and my father was from a wealthy one. They believed that the rich and poor should not intermingle, as their social classes were worlds apart.

Yet, against all warnings and objections from their families, my parents chose to marry. Their opposition was so fierce that they withheld their blessings and prayers.

This is why I had no relationship with my grandmother until after my parents' demise. Some blamed her for her supposed negligence, while others pointed fingers at me simply for existing.

I was just eleven when my parents passed away. A mere five days after their death, accusations of thievery and unlawful property seizure were hurled at me. To avoid jail, I was coerced into signing papers. Naively, I did, not realizing I was relinquishing my inheritance.

Left with only a modest farm and the house I shared with my grandmother, our peace was shattered when my uncle and his malevolent wife claimed them too. They didn't stop there; they even contemplated selling me off, indifferent to the risk of me falling into the hands of drug dealers or worse.

But today is not a day for dwelling on the past.

My thoughts inevitably turned to Grandma. During her first visit, she called me Million, my mother's name. Convincing her I was Mulan took effort, yet occasionally she still slipped, calling me Million. Over time, I've come to believe that she held my mother in great affection.

...

"Hey!" The voice of the mischievous-looking maid snapped me out of my reverie. Her grin was wide as she extended her hand to me.

"Caught up in your thoughts? Don't worry, you'll acclimate to the palace's madness." She seemed amiable, yet I sensed layers beneath her cheerful exterior. Accepting her hand, I stood and stepped forward.

"Everything alright?" she inquired, her gaze probing.

"Just reflecting," I said, keeping the tone light.

"Life's quite the ride," she remarked with a smirk.

I agreed, "Absolutely. So, what's your perspective on palace life?"

She laughed lightly. "It's a never-ending drama. You never know what's coming."

"Indeed. Any romantic tales from these halls?" I asked, intrigued.

Leaning closer, she whispered, "Palace love is like a clandestine club, always full of surprises."

I smiled, "Do tell! Any intriguing rumors?"

"Maybe later. But keep an eye out for unexpected alliances. Love here is unpredictable," she warned.

Our conversation made the palace seem less intimidating, and her constant smile was reassuring.

I meant to ask her name but kept forgetting. As we spoke, a guard entered, surveying the room.

He acknowledged us with a nod. I felt a twinge of unease as if we were caught in a misdeed. Unfazed, the maid waved casually.

"Just imparting some life lessons," she declared nonchalantly.

The guard's eyebrow arched but he remained silent. "The Prince requests your presence immediately," he stated, then turned and left. The maid acknowledged with a nod.

After his departure, I asked her, "Aren't you worried about angering the prince with your antics?"

With a sly smirk, she shrugged. "They're used to me. What's life without a little mischief?"

Her words eased my nerves. The palace might be fraught with enigmas and dangers, but I had found a playful ally.

Before leaving, she advised me to rest. "Don't worry, I'll wake you up tomorrow in a grand style!!" Her grin turned mischievous at the mention of grand style.