“You’ll be expected at dinner within the hour,” the servant said as he opened the door to my room. His voice was smooth and practiced, the kind that slid past without leaving an impression. “I’ll send a personal servant over. She’ll give you a tour of the castle.”

“Yes, thank you.”

The words seemed to catch him off guard. He paused, glancing at me as though waiting for something else—an order, perhaps, or a complaint. When nothing came, he shut the door.

My shoulders eased. I was alone, unbothered, and in a place designed for ‘me’. Everything was furnished with an array of greens and yellows. From the curtains to the cold satin bedsheets, everything was furnished in greens and yellows. Even the carpets were made to be decorative instead of warm against the cold floor. 

The whole room was spotless; there were no missed corners or dust lingering where a servant’s hand had grown tired. Not even creases in the fabric where someone had collapsed after a long day. It lacked the quiet proof of living. It felt like a room meant to be admired, not inhabited. But that was how it had to be. How she liked it.

“Lady Vivian?” A knock echoed softly against the door. “I’m here to serve you.” 

I opened the door to see a girl no older than thirteen. Her hair was a striking red, wound tightly into a bun at the back of her head, though a few stubborn strands had slipped free. She wore a simple gray blouse tucked into an ebony skirt, clean but mended in places.

“You’re my personal servant?” 

“If you’re unhappy with me, I can find someone else.” 

She shuffled her feet together, eyes fixed somewhere just past my shoulder. A gaze I’d given plenty of noblemen in my time. 

“I’m not unhappy with you,” I said gently. “It’s just… you’re so young. Don’t you have a family looking after you?”

“No, my lady. It’s only me.”

The words were bitterly familiar on her tongue. I knew that loneliness—the kind that came from raising yourself inside walls that echoed too loudly. 

“I’m supposed to take you on a tour of the castle,” she said, straightening slightly. “If you’re ready.”

“I am.”

She led the way, keeping a careful distance between us. Five steps ahead. Always five. She pointed out rooms as we passed—halls for councils, chambers for guests, galleries filled with ancestral faces whose eyes followed us through the gloom. She named oddities and traditions, the way someone might recite a lesson drilled into them long ago.

The castle was grand, undeniably so, but its beauty lived in shadow. Light struggled to stretch through the corridors, pooling weakly against stone walls. 

“Is there something you’re curious about, my lady?” she asked after some time.

“Yes. What’s your name?”

“..Everyone calls me Buckley.”

I smiled. “I like that. Buckley, what’s your favorite part of the castle? I’d like to see that.”

Her posture eased, just slightly. “The bridges,” she said. “The breeze is refreshing. And the view feels… free.”

“Then let’s go there.” 

She nodded and turned around to lead me, but I quickened my pace to match hers.

“Walk beside me, won’t you?” I said. “I don’t like walking alone.”

“If you say so, my lady.”

“I’m tired of all the titles. Please just nothing at all.”

“That would be inappropriate!” Her voice dropped into a whisper, sharp with panic. “If anyone heard me talking to you so casually I’d—”

“I’ve heard enough of Your Highness and Princess to last me a lifetime. So, please, when we’re alone—no titles.” 

“A-alright.”

We walked in tandem, our steps aligning as we passed a few odd noblemen in the halls. Their glances lingered longer than I’d like. One man in particular slowed his pace as we walked by. His eyes were sharp and assessing, as if committing my face to memory before tucking it away under his graying brow. 

In his presence Buckley seemed to stutter in her steps. She quickly ducked behind me, avoiding his glare until he was out of sight. She let out a breath as she took her place beside me again. 

“Who was that?”

“Fervent Wells. He’s a nobleman who’s less than fond of anyone. I usually take a more scheduled path to the bridges, but since you're here ... .His office is nearby so he and his daughter usually roam these halls.”
“Buckley, after seeing his face, I’m all the more inclined to take whatever hidden path you know of.”

“You don’t have a problem with stairs then?”

“I’m more than familiar with them.” 

She grinned. Taking my hand, she led me into a hallway you’d only see in the corner of your eye. Up a long stretch of stairs that kept going until we finally reached the bridges. A web of interconnecting pathways from tower to tower above the castle. Where the darkening horizon mixed with a hazy gold as it blurred into sunset. 

Distant chatter from the kingdom danced upward, the voices of street vendors and workers rushing home to their families. Church bells rang, and one by one, candles were lit.

“I come up here to think sometimes,” Buckley admitted.

“About what?”

“What my family would be like. Where they would’ve lived. What paths they walked every day.”

“Are you an orphan?”

“I was found on the castle steps,” she said. “Some of the servant women raised me. As much as they could. Now they say I can fend for myself.”

“I’m sorry. I know— I can imagine how hard that’s been.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry. It’s just my life. And there are plenty of girls desperate to work here. At least I’m not starving in the streets.” She glanced toward the sun. “It’s nearly dinner. You should get changed.”

With a sort of silent resignation we began our descent down the steps. Back into the main hallways when a sharp voice cut through the quiet.

“So you’re Her Highness? Princess Vivian?”

I turned to find a noblewoman approaching, trailed by a small procession of servants struggling beneath parasols and parcels. She was dressed in finery that mirrored Vivian’s, on her most insufferable days. Layers of silk and lace arranged to be admired.

“Yes,” I said. “Lady…?”

“Fabienne,” she replied brightly. “Please. I wouldn’t dare let us be strangers. You’re the only lady I’ve ever cared to meet. The rest have been so lackluster, but you're from such a distant land. You must tell me everything.”

I smiled and nodded as she spoke, the expression slipping when her stare snapped to Buckley.

“Oh, you there. What are you doing standing so close to Her Highness?”

Buckley flushed. “I—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Fabienne snapped. “You’ll taint her reputation and she’s barely arrived. The nerve of some of you.”

Buckley tucked herself into my shadow. 

“That’s my fault, Lady Fabienne,” I said smoothly. “After so much travel, I’m weak on my feet. I needed something to steady myself. It’s hard to do that when she’s forced to walk behind me.”

Fabienne clicked her tongue. “Leave it to the Steward to assign such a frail guide. I’d offer one of mine, but I’m afraid I need them all.”

“No trouble at all, but I should be going. I’m expected at dinner with His Majesty.”

Her brows lifted. “Then I won’t keep you. Do call on me if you need anything. Advice or otherwise.”

“I’ll remember that.”

She curtsied and swept away. Waving her servants to follow her quicker. 

“I’m sorry, Buckley,” I said quietly. “I should’ve been more mindful of our… positions.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s only a difference between lands. The class lines are firmer here.”

“I hope you’ll help me learn them.”

She nodded.

We continued down the hall. The distance returned, but smaller now. Three steps ahead instead of five. Close enough to feel like safety yet far enough to still be danger.

I shouldn't have been so casual. I’m not a servant anymore. It’s dangerous to play friends, for her and for me…