SCHEMES, SASS AND SURPRISES
1557 Words
Selene’s first day as a lady-in-waiting was… manageable.
The duties were precise but simple: standing at the correct distance, pouring tea without a sound, memorising schedules, and speaking only when spoken to. By midday, Selene had already learned the rhythm.
Princess Sera disrupted it effortlessly.
“That ribbon is crooked.”
Selene glanced at the princess’s wrist. Perfectly straight.
“It isn’t, Your Highness.”
Sera stared at it longer. “Then my eyes are offended.”
Selene retied it anyway. The knot didn’t change.
Sera exhaled through her nose. “There. Now it looks like you tried.”
Selene paused, then said calmly, “If Your Highness prefers effort over results, I’ll keep that in mind.”
How has this girl survived all these years, Selene wondered, with a mouth like that?
The princess spoke whatever crossed her mind—unfiltered, unafraid, and entirely unconcerned with who might be listening.
She complained about breakfast being too bland, about nobles being boring, and about how the council spoke in circles
All before noon.
And yet—
She wasn’t cruel.
She wasn’t careless with people.
Just… dangerously honest.
By the time evening approached, Selene had thought the position through.
Carefully.
She had two plans.
The first was simple.
If everything went south—if the future began to resemble the one she remembered—then Princess Sera was her shield. Sera survived in Selene’s last life. That fact alone made her valuable.
Which meant Selene needed to stay in her good books.
Be useful.
Be reliable.
Be… tolerating.
Selene glanced at the princess, who was currently arguing with a senior attendant about whether curtains could be “emotionally oppressive.”
Manageable, Selene decided.
The second plan was less simple.
The Second Prince.
The one whose schemes had woven quietly through the palace like poison roots.
The one whose actions had led to things Selene refused to remember too clearly.
If she could understand him—his allies, his movements, his intentions—
Then maybe, just maybe, she could change something this time.
----
THE NEXT AFTERNOON
The garden had been prepared long before the third prince arrived.
White silk canopies were drawn between rose trellises, letting sunlight filter through in pale gold sheets.
A round marble table sat at the center, draped in linen the color of fresh cream. Porcelain cups trimmed with gold rested neatly on matching saucers, steam curling gently from the tea.
Lavender and mint scented the air.
Princess Sera arrived first, already seated when the third prince was led in.
To Selene’s eye, he looked no older than seven or eight—small, neat, and impeccably dressed. His silver-blue eyes lit up the moment he saw Sera.
“Big sister,” he greeted, all warmth and affection.
Sera smiled in a way she rarely did. “Lucien. You’re late.”
“You’re early,” he replied, proudly correcting her before taking his seat.
Selene stood quietly at Sera’s side, hands folded, posture perfect.
Lucien noticed her immediately.
His smile faded.
Throughout the tea, Selene felt it—sharp glances, narrowed eyes, the kind of scrutiny that belonged to a guard dog far older than its years. It was almost impressive.
He laughed easily with Sera, leaned close when he spoke, and accepted sweets from her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Then he looked at Selene again.
Untrusting. Almost accusing.
Selene didn’t react.
Children, she thought. And their instincts.
Watching the siblings together stirred something faint in her chest. Their closeness—easy, unguarded, was painfully familiar.
She thought of Celeste.
The thought was gone as quickly as it came. Selene turned her gaze elsewhere.
When tea concluded, Lucien rose and took Sera’s hand briefly before stepping back.
His farewell glare toward Selene was deliberate.
Selene bowed anyway.
Perfectly. Politely. Unbothered.
As the prince departed with his attendants, Sera walked beside Selene back toward the villa.
“Lucien is like that with newcomers,” Sera said casually. “He’ll warm up eventually.”
Selene responded without missing a step. “I’m relieved to hear it, Your Highness. Though I can assure you—it makes little difference to me.”
Sera glanced at her.
Then smirked.
“Good,” she said. “It would be disappointing if it did.
They entered the villa together, the garden falling silent behind them.
-------
A few days later, the quiet rhythm Selene had finally begun to understand was broken.
The manor doors flew open.
“Your Highness!” a bright voice chimed.
A girl with big beautiful green eyes and white hair rushed in and wrapped her arms around Princess Sera without hesitation.
The sudden movement nearly made Selene step forward on instinct.
The girl froze when she noticed Selene.
“Oh—! I’m terribly sorry” she said quickly, stepping back and bowing politely.
Selene blinked once, composure returning.
“S-Selene” Princess Sera said lightly, far too pleased. “This is Mara. My first Lady-in-Waiting.”
“…Huh?”
The word left Selene before she could stop it. Her expression cooled instantly, confusion sharp in her eyes.
Why has she never mentioned this to me at all?
She turned slowly toward the princess, gaze expectant.
“She was ill,” Sera replied with a casual wave of her hand. “And I was bored.”
Then she smiled—far too brightly. “That is… until I met you at the market.”
Selene felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Mara dipped into a respectful curtsy, her movements practiced yet warm.
“It’s an honor to finally meet you, Lady Selene.”
Selene returned the greeting with equal formality. “The honor is mine.”
“I should go unpack my things,” Mara said, lifting her small bag. “I’ll see you both shortly.”
With that, she slipped away.
The moment the doors closed, Selene turned.
Her eyes said everything.
You did this on purpose, didn’t you?
Sera merely shrugged, her lips curving into an unapologetic smirk.
-----
THE NEXT EVENING
Selene sighed as she carried the small bowl of food into Sera’s room.
“Of all the things in this palace… I get to feed a cat,” she muttered under her breath. “And who names their cat Kat?”
The cat, perched elegantly on the windowsill, flicked an ear and let out a soft scoff.
“Tch. Incompetent,” it said.
Selene froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. Kat was staring straight at her with a face so serious it could rival a royal guard.
She took a cautious step closer.
“You heard me right” the cat repeated, voice dripping with sass.
Selene’s heart skipped a beat. She blinked, then closed her eyes and laughed, wide and incredulous.
“Wonderful. The cat can talk,” she said.
“Of course. I’ve been dragged into another world. Why not?”
Kat stood, stretched, and walked away with all the elegance and attitude of a royal, completely ignoring the food in his bowl.
Selene groaned. “I really am going insane. Great.”
-----
Selene was walking through the villa corridors, still half in disbelief over Kat talking. She turned the corner of the corridor just as someone else did.
She collided lightly into a solid chest, the impact enough to make her step back. The man she’d bumped into barely moved.
Instead, he looked down at her as though she were a misplaced ornament.
Crown prince Sirian Aurelis brushed invisible dust from his sleeve, slow and deliberate.
“Careful,” he said mildly. “These halls aren’t meant for wandering attendants who forget where they’re walking.”
Selene blinked once. Then she smiled—soft, composed, perfectly pleasant.
“My apologies, Your Highness,” she said, dipping into a neat curtsy.
“I’ll be sure to remember that next time I encounter someone standing so still, I mistake them for part of the architecture.”
In her mind, she sighed. So this is the crown prince. Runs his mouth just like his sister.
Sirian paused in the middle of adjusting his cuff. His gaze sharpened, interest flickering where indifference had been.
“…You were on the balcony,” he said suddenly. “At the debutante ball.”
Selene straightened, her smile thinning just a fraction.
“How perceptive,” she replied. “I would’ve thought Your Highness far too busy being admired to notice.”
A corner of his lips twitched.
“So the Veyrants truly are raised with confidence,” he said lightly. “Though I suppose manners aren’t inherited as reliably as names.”
Selene inclined her head again, sweet as sugar.
“And yet,” she said, “for someone so well-bred, Your Highness seems remarkably comfortable speaking down to people.”
Sirian laughed under his breath—once. He stepped past her, then stopped, glancing back with a small, infuriating smirk.
“I was on my way to see my sister” he said.
“But if this is what serving the palace entails now, I may reconsider my visits.”
He turned fully then, already dismissing her.
“Let us hope,” he added, “that our paths never cross again.”
Selene watched him leave, her smile finally dropping.
“…Likewise,” she murmured.
- Writer
