Freedom.



Was it really too much to ask for?



For the past few days, my life had become a waking nightmare. Everywhere I turned, I was met with the cold, unyielding presence of the King's knights. They shadowed me like my own personal storm clouds, always watching, always waiting for the moment I might attempt to escape.



If I so much as looked at an open window, someone would cough disapprovingly. If I dared to walk toward the palace gates, a knight would magically appear in front of me with a silent shake of his head.



I had officially lost all autonomy.



It was time to fight back.



I had spent hours carefully constructing my master plan.



Step 1: Befriend the guards. Gain their trust.

Step 2: Convince them that I was absolutely not trying to sneak out.

Step 3: Escape through the underground servant tunnels.

Step 4: Run free and bask in the sunlight like a victorious hero.



Everything was going smoothly at first.



I had softened the knights with my tragic sighs and wistful gazes. I even threw in a few melancholic stares out of the window, as if dreaming of the world beyond.



"I just... want to breathe fresh air," I murmured dramatically. "I feel like a caged bird..."



One of the knights shifted uncomfortably.



"I mean," I continued, "would it really be so bad if I stepped outside for just a moment?"



The knights exchanged glances. I could feel their resolve weakening. I was so close to victory!



Then—



"Try it and see what happens."



A deep voice rumbled behind me.



My entire soul froze.



Slowly, ever so slowly, I turned.



There stood the King, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement—and something far more terrifying.



I screamed internally.



"Y-Your Majesty!" I gasped, clutching my chest like a startled noblewoman. "What a... what a pleasant surprise!"



The King raised an unimpressed brow. "Is it?"



I gulped.



"Y-Yes?"



The King took a step forward, and I instinctively took a step back.



"You think I don't know about the underground tunnels?" His voice was smooth, dangerously low.



I paled.



"What tunnels? There are tunnels? That's crazy—"



The King leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my skin.



"If you attempt to leave without permission again, I will personally ensure that you won't take a single step out of this palace."



I stiffened.



...That sounded way too ominous.



I snapped into a rigid salute. "Understood, Your Majesty! I shall behave!"



The King smirked. "Good."



And just like that, my hope of freedom was completely, utterly obliterated.



~~~



Just when I thought my suffering had reached its peak, another nightmare arrived in the form of an invitation.



"The royal gala is in three days," a maid whispered excitedly. "It's the biggest event of the season!"



"I heard noble families will be presenting potential candidates for the King's favor," another gossiped.



"And the King's exclusive maid will be serving tea for the event!"



I choked on my own spit.



"WHAT?!"



Sure enough, I was summoned to the King's office that afternoon.



"You will be present at the gala," he stated without preamble.



I squinted at him. "Why?"



"To serve tea."



I scowled. "I already do that every day—why do I need to be at the event?"



The King leaned back in his chair, regarding me with unreadable amusement.



"Because I said so."



I opened my mouth to argue, but then I remembered that he was the literal ruler of the kingdom and could make my life worse in an instant.



"...Understood, Your Majesty."



If I was going to be forced into this event, I was going to make sure I looked good doing it.



And lucky for me, I had a secret weapon.



Makeup.



Back in my previous life, I was a professional. My face was my personal canvas, and I was Michelangelo with an eyeliner brush.



When the night of the gala arrived, I locked myself in my room and worked my magic.



A soft glow to my skin. Light rouge for a natural flush. Defined lashes to make my eyes pop.



By the time I was done, I barely recognized myself.



I slipped into my formal maid uniform—an elegant version of my usual attire with silver embroidery—and stepped into the hallway.



The moment I emerged, the reaction was immediate.



Every servant in the corridor froze.



One maid dropped a tray. A footman audibly gasped.



"Miss Thalia...?" someone whispered.



I gave an awkward wave. "Uh, hi?"



That was when Cassian appeared.



He took one look at me and—



"WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS—"



I frowned. "What? What's wrong?"



Cassian pointed at me like I had grown three heads.



"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DID YOU DO TO THALIA?!"



I rolled my eyes. "Cassian, it's me."



Cassian gawked. "No. No, no, no—Thalia does not look like a—like a—"



"A proper lady?" I finished dryly.



Cassian threw his hands in the air. "EXACTLY!"



Ignoring his dramatics, I made my way to the gala.



The moment I stepped into the grand ballroom, the entire hall hushed.



Nobles turned to look. Murmurs spread like wildfire.



"Who is that?"



"She's gorgeous!"



"Wait... isn't that the King's maid?!"



I tried to ignore the attention and made my way toward the tea station.



Then—



I felt a familiar gaze.



Slowly, I turned.



The King was staring at me.



No—he was frozen.



His golden eyes were locked onto mine, his expression unreadable.



For the first time since I had met him... he looked genuinely stunned.



The silence stretched.



I shifted awkwardly. "Uh. Your Majesty?"



The King blinked. Once. Twice. Then—



He turned and walked away without a word.



I frowned.



...Was that good or bad?



~~~



Meanwhile, across the room, a group of nobles watched intently.



"She's gaining too much attention," Lady Genevieve hissed.



Duke Valemont narrowed his eyes. "The King has never looked at anyone like that before."



Lord Rothwell smirked. "Then it's time to make our move."



Lady Genevieve smiled wickedly. "Let's see how long the King's favorite little maid can last."