I scrubbed the last of the silver polish from my hands, but the gray stains wouldn't budge. They were etched into my skin, just like the exhaustion etched into my bones.
It was midnight. I was sitting on my bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence of the castle felt oppressive tonight. Lucien’s coldness in the hallway—Get back to work—played on a loop in my head.
I couldn't take the isolation anymore. I grabbed my new phone and tapped Eliza’s name.
She picked up on the first ring.
"Serphina? Are you okay? It's late."
"I hate him," I groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. "I hate my boss. I hate his stupid silver goblets. I hate his perfect face."
"Whoa, slow down," Eliza said, her voice sounding tinny. "I need backup for this. Hold on."
The screen flickered, and suddenly the call
