AMBERGILL: What Lies Within

CHAPTER 02

Deep within my heart, I harbored the knowledge that this man, the Prince, bore a hidden burden of responsibility for the injustices that plagued our land.

He is a child of an affair, given that his existence was only made public six years after his birth, right after the first Queen passed. His mother married the King immediately, and he became the most important child in the whole country overnight.

He is a source of the King’s wickedness. And I know, along with the King, he will be one great foe of me.

“Why did you bring me here, Prince Archer Florence Carter?”

I meet his gaze as we enter his bedroom after discreetly departing from the party. “What did I tell you to call me?”

“I apologize… Archie,” I reply, the formality of his title falling away in compliance with his request.

No, in all seriousness… Why must I be here, in a royal bedroom? I could be making connections with the Dukes and Marquesses my mother must have met before. “So, uh. Why are we here again?” I ask.

“Those Ladies in there will give you a hard time if we had stayed. Also, that old woman troubling you might be lingering around. Would you like to go back?” he asks politely as he begins to remove his upper garments.

“No, I’ll stay here. Thank you for your kind thoughts, Your Majesty.”

“Ar-chi,” he corrected gently. “Archi.”

I stood frozen by the door, feeling strangely out of place as Prince Archer—no, Archie—proceeded with the business of removing his clothes. This is becoming rather uncomfortable. I have not entered a man’s room before, more a royalty’s room.

And, while the owner is getting undressed too.

“Don’t you think it’s better to have gone in the garden? Or… the living room perhaps?”

He faces me with his bare upper body, nothing on but his pants. “What are you worried about, my Lady?”

I turned to my back abruptly after a glance at his muscular chest. Ugh, men.

“That your father will kill me first thing in the morning, Archie.”

The Prince lets out a deep, hearty laugh. “He does not do that, don’t worry,” he assures. Or does he, huh, Prince?

“The only chair I have in this room broke this morning. So you’re going to have to sit on the bed,” he offers me. Is he a bit peculiar, or is it simply my first interaction with a man of my age?

I cleared my throat for a hint. “I don’t think I’ll be spending a lot of time here, so I can stay standing.”

“Even when it is the Prince’s order?”

My eyes narrowed at him after his last statement, filled with doubt and questioning. “Are you commanding me to sit on your bed?”

“I am.”

Oh, the audacity of men! If my duties within this stately palace were not of such paramount importance, I would have found it difficult to restrain myself from slapping his bewildered face. My narrowed eyes and tense jaw conveyed my frustration, and I yearned to unleash harsh words upon him, to let him know exactly how exasperated I felt with men and their ways. “Bastard,” I whispered beneath my sigh.

“What? Did you just call me a bastard?” he laughs, making his way to me.

Heavens, how did he hear that? My hand reached for my lips when he began walking to me.

“Do you think I’m a bastard? Be completely honest, my Lady,” he commands.

Argh! His annoying face stirs a deep anger within me! I cannot hold back!

“Yes, you are,” I answered confidently, trying to stand tall before him.

He is so stupid! After making me the most hated lady among the dignitaries, he made me the focus of all eyes when I endeavored so earnestly to merge into the crowd! He made a false identity of me, and had the pride to bring me to his bedroom?! All completely disturbing my missions! Stupid, stupid man!

“You think you’re so high and mighty because you’re a Prince? I don’t even find you a pinch handsome! If I was offered to marry you, I’d rather commit treason!” The words spilled from my lips before I could restrain them.

Fuck! It burst out of my mouth! I am a moron! I don’t stand a chance here anymore, I am dead!

His visage gradually contorts into a frown, and he takes a step back from me after my tirade. It is clear how deeply my words have disturbed him. “Oh, I…”

“I apologize, Lady Eloise… I thought we were on the same page.”

He retreats, grabbing a robe to conceal his exposed body, then turns back to face me with a tone filled with disappointment. “I thought you liked me as well,” he questions.

Bloody hell, no! I shook my head vigorously.

“You… don’t find me attractive? Even the slightest?” he bargains, his tone a mix of disbelief and wounded pride.

“No. Your long brown hair… the way your eyes look, your smile… it’s hideous!” I forced a smirk.

He started laughing, a chuckle that bubbled up despite his attempt to hide it behind his hand. His laughter echoed softly in the room, mixing with the faint sounds of music drifting from the party below. I stood there, my cheeks warming with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion.

Was he laughing at me, or was he laughing with me? I couldn't quite tell, but his genuine amusement was undeniable.

“So… you don’t want to have s*x with me?”

“What?! Goodness, no! Ugh, no! Never!”

I seethe at his ego and self-confidence. He must think himself all-powerful, believing I'm merely playing hard to get when in truth, I want nothing to do with him! … Well, not this way.

He starts chuckling again under his hand, swaying his body.

As his laughter subsided, he lowered his hand and changed to a gentler expression. He is very annoying!

“I'm sorry,” he said, his voice still tinged with amusement. “I didn't mean to upset you. It's just… your honesty is refreshing.”

I rolled my eyes. “May I go now?” I asked, my tone laced with irritation, though his grin remained unbothered, stretching from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I like you even more now, Lady Eloise,” he replies.

I exhale sharply, struggling to maintain a facade of indifference. His unabashed confidence infuriates me! Those were the final words I heard from him before I swung the door wide open and let it slam shut behind me. I couldn't care less even if he's a Prince!

Arriving at a secluded hall of the palace, I leaned against the brick wall, breathing deeply to calm my racing heart. The encounter had left me shaken, questioning my own ability to navigate the complexities of royal interactions. He is indeed a moron.

I must save my energy for tomorrow, as I begin my job… being a maid for his family.

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Our family resided on the outskirts of the main town adjacent to the palace, in the Westwood of Ashbury, Ambergill—often disparagingly referred to as "garbageville," a symbol of injustice and neglect.

My father had died due to the flu when I was only ten years old, yet my evil grandmother stuck around the house as a freeloader when my mum began working in the palace as a maid. All we wanted was one thing in our life as mere commoners. To escape this hell hole and live an actual life.

We’ve always believed that earning a lot of money can help us move to a different duchy, anywhere far from the reach of the cruel king.

Because, of course, the king does nothing but complain about how unpopular the country is, compared to his so-called foes, which are the kings of the nearby kingdoms. But does nothing to help the people live. He is a greedy fat man who eats his people. Yet everyone worships him dearly.

Because, after all… We are nothing compared to a murderer.

Every year, at least a hundred people die from two reasons: the flu, and chopped heads. Both of his responsibilities.

Mysteriously enough, more women have died ever since the King began his regime. Specifically, those who work with the royalties. Including my mother.

After my mother’s death five years ago, when I was fifteen, I was left with nothing in the world but her hidden wealth. But, even though our dreams to obtain a large amount of money have come true, our sufferings continue while the mystery of her death remains unsolved.

Therefore, I must retrace my mother’s steps inside this filthy kingdom and end the vicious King’s regime.

Now that I turned twenty, I find myself standing before the King’s eyes, ready to risk my life for my mission.

“I pledge my loyalty to you, Your Majesty. I vow to serve you and the royal family until my last breath,” I affirm, with my forehead facing the ground.

I will end you no matter what.

“Very well. You understand that your task must remain a secret, do you?” King Ernest asks.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

He cleared his throat as he peered down at me from his throne. My appearance had drastically changed since last night; then, I had been adorned in a luxurious gown, now replaced by the humble attire of a maid. Perhaps he did not recognize me, or perhaps he simply chose to disregard my encounter with the Prince at the party.

“You may proceed to the fifth floor of the back tower. There, you will find a large concealed room that you will keep a secret. Here is the sole key to access it,” he added in a lowered voice as he threw me a key that landed on my feet. “Do not disappoint me.”

With a final nod of deference to the King, I set forth on my journey towards the tower. A sense of unease gnawed at me. Why had I been entrusted with this peculiar task? Just who is in that room that I must keep upon myself forever?

Soon after, I reached the halls of the fifth floor. With the key tightly gripped in my hand, I approached the thick, large door disguised to appear as an ordinary wall. Carefully, I inserted the key into the lock and turned it with a steady hand. It was so heavy, yet I managed to swing it open.

In the expansive room before me, I beheld a unique sight—a room containing all the furniture of a home compressed into a single cube. There was a bed neatly made, a table set for dining, and a compact kitchen area. The walls, though painted in royal white, were adorned with intricate chalk drawings of a kid. It was a bit similar to the Prince’s room, but thrice as large!

As I took in the surreal scene, my eyes fell upon a young woman seated at the table, engrossed in a book. At the sound of the door opening, she looked up with an expression of excitement, then quickly rose and approached me with a bright smile. “Oh my goodness!” she jumps in joy.

Who is this Lady, and why is her name unfamiliar to me?

She appeared younger than I expected, her blonde hair catching the glint of light from the chandelier above. Her skin was almost as pale as white!

Standing barefoot in a small nightgown, she approaches me with a radiant smile and says: “Ooohh, I’ve been waiting for you!” as she wraps her arms around mine.

Is this Lady Priscilla? Why is the King hiding this sweet girl?

Quickly fixing her poise, she steps back and faces me while I remain confused. My job is to… serve this child?

“Oh, apologies... I got carried away. I thought you were supposed to come yesterday, and I waited all night, but you did not appear!” she bows down elegantly with her face containing her smile. “I have been longing to meet you, Martha!”

She knew my name. Who was this young girl, and how did she know who I was?

“Right…You might be confused,” she says and fixes her poise. “I am Lady Priscilla Jane Wright, only daughter of Eleanor—the Duchess of Ashbury. I may look very young, but I am already fifteen! I am very pleased to finally meet you.”

Her smile warms my heart and her innocence is something I wish I could disregard… because no matter who she is, she is still part of this messed-up family. She is still my foe.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Priscilla. I am Marth—”

“I know! You’re Martha Eloise Beverly. Twenty years old, from Oakborn, but you were raised in Westwood,” she cuts me off, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Her confidence and familiarity unsettled me further.

“...How do you know that?”

Her smile widened, and she reached out, taking my hand in hers with a gentle squeeze. “Your mother was my teacher,” she replied earnestly.

It struck me like a bolt of lightning. The realisation dawned on me, and suddenly, everything fell into place. My mother was… a teacher?