The King and The Maid

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Cali POV

I draw in a sharp, jagged breath, clawing at my throat like I can force air into my burning lungs myself. I bolt upright as adrenaline surges through me, my heart pounding so hard it hurts. Sweat sticks to my skin. It takes several terrified seconds before I realize — it was just another nightmare.

Alarms blare overhead, lights flicker to life, flooding my tiny room in cold white. I groan. Another lovely day in paradise. I swing my legs over the side of the bed. Three sleepless nights in a row — my body’s starting to feel it. I bury my face in my hands, massaging my temples, trying to fight off the headache already blooming behind my eyes.

The room hums to life around me, kicking me back into gear. No time to dwell. I have to shower, make my bed, and iron my uniform before Ivan shows up to bark out our chores.

Ivan’s our handler — he won’t tolerate anything less than perfection. The showers are full, of course — fifteen girls fighting for a few stalls. Whatever. I’ll iron my uniform and shine my shoes instead.

“Hey, the showers opened up — better get in there before the vultures swoop in,” Rachel says about twenty minutes later.

I glance over my shoulder and smile. “Thanks, Rach. I’m going now.”

She’s wrapped in a towel, her black wavy hair dripping onto the floor. “You’re getting water everywhere,” I scold. “Clean that up before Ivan sees.”

“Yeah, yeah, boss lady. I’ll mop it up when you get your ass in the shower,” she teases, pointing dramatically.

“Geez, I’m going,” I say, grabbing my clothes. “Who peed in your Cheerios this morning?”

“No one — but if you end up taking a cold shower, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“The water’s always cold — what’s new?” I shoot back, walking away.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“That’s why you love me. Admit it.” I grin.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Rachel calls after me.

She’s right — the water’s freezing. Colder than usual. I’ll never tell her, though. She’d gloat for a month. She’s my best friend — but that doesn’t mean she needs more ammo.

My grin fades as soon as I remember tomorrow. Tomorrow’s not just Prince Harland’s crowning ceremony — it’s my birthday. Normally, birthdays don’t matter here. We don’t celebrate. But this one’s different — I’m turning eighteen. The age when I finally get to meet my wolf.

Until now, she’s been there — watching, feeling, but silent. Dormant. No shifting. No voice. Tomorrow, that changes. I’ll meet the other half that makes me me. I’ll finally stop being defenseless.

I’ve wanted to run for years — but alone? Without my wolf? I’d last five minutes. Tomorrow, everyone will be busy with the ceremony. No one will notice one maid slipping out. I just wish I could convince Rachel to come. She’s had her wolf for two years — but she’s too scared. This place is all she’s ever known. Leaving means becoming a rogue — packless, hunted, fighting every day to survive.

Sometimes rogues find packs — but it’s rare. And for both of us? Almost impossible. She’s right to be scared. Hell, I’m terrified too. But I can’t stay here another second. I need to see what’s out there. I need to know why my parents were killed. Even if it means leaving her behind.

The alarms blare again — daily inspection. We scramble to the foot of our beds, standing stiff as statues. My fingers fidget with my skirt hem as I wait for Ivan. He might look like a scrawny chicken, but underestimate him and you’ll find yourself tied to the post, whipped until you can’t stand.

The double doors swing open with a squeal. I straighten my spine, mask my face. Ivan glides in, draped in black, his blond hair slicked back like he thinks he’s royalty.

“Good morning, ladies,” he drawls, eyes locked on his clipboard.

“Good morning, Ivan,” we chorus back.

He lifts his eyes, scans the room, drops the clipboard with a smack. “All right! Let’s get this party started.”

He works his way down the rows, inspecting each girl. I rub my damp palms against my skirt, trying not to squirm. I don’t know why I’m so jittery today — but I am. I force my mind elsewhere.

Tomorrow. The guests. So many wolves from other packs. What if my wolf finds our mate? Or worse — what if we’re mated to someone in the castle? What if we’re rejected? They say rejection feels worse than death. I’ll have to keep my wolf far from everyone. I’m working the floor that night — but I’m ready for it.

“What is this?!” Ivan’s voice snaps me back. He’s barking at a girl four beds down. Lana — I think. Just a kid. Fourteen, tops.

“N-no… I don’t know,” she stammers.

“You don’t know? So you think wrinkled shirts and messy hair are acceptable in the presence of your king?” He sneers.

She shakes her head, tears welling up.

“No? So what do you suggest we do about it?” He’s enjoying this.

“Fix it?” she whispers, hope flickering.

Poor kid. She really thinks he’ll let her fix her hair and shirt. But his eyes say otherwise.

“No, sweet girl — I have another assignment for you today. Want to know what it is?”

Lana nods, trembling. She’s not ready for this, I think. You were only twelve, my mind whispers.

“You’re going to spend the day cleaning the dungeon cells — but not before a little field trip—”

“No!” The word flies out before I can stop it.

Silence. Every head turns to me. Ivan stalks over, close enough I can smell his earth-and-amber stench. His eyes burn.

“What makes you think you have a say in this?”

I swallow. “I don’t. I just… we have so much to do for the ceremony. We need everyone working. Sending her to the dungeons wastes manpower.”

He narrows his eyes. I see him thinking. He knows I’m right.

“Say I agree — you think she goes unpunished?”

Yes. “No… I’ll help her fix her hair, iron her clothes. We’ll both skip dinner and work an extra fifteen minutes tonight.”

He tilts his head. Smirks. “Thirty minutes. Then we have a deal.” He turns back to Lana. “But don’t think this will happen again. One hair out of place and I’ll drag you to the courtyard myself. Do I make myself clear?”

Lana nods, trembling.

“Do I make myself clear, girls?” he thunders.

“Yes, Ivan,” we echo.

He goes back to the front. I let out a shaky breath. Relief washes through me.

“I have your task sheets. Come up one at a time.” He flips through his clipboard. “Each task must be checked by me. No more second chances today.”

One by one, the girls collect their lists and slip out. Lana and I stay frozen. Ivan taps his foot by the door while I fix her hair and smooth her uniform. It takes five minutes, but he makes it feel like five hours.

“Come on, we don’t have all day,” he snaps.

I want to tell him where he can shove it — but Lana needs me quiet right now. “Done,” I say as she tucks in her shirt.

“Finally.” He rolls his eyes.

Lana looks up at me, puppy-eyed and scared. He’ll eat her alive if she keeps this up. I bend down, fuss with her collar, and whisper, “Stand tall. Don’t let him see you’re scared. I’m right behind you.”

She nods, squares her shoulders. She walks up to him like she’s untouchable. “Task list, please.”

His brow jumps — surprised — but it’s gone so fast I wonder if I imagined it. He hands her the list. She’s out the door before he can say a word.

Silence swallows the room. My heart pounds again. Don’t let him see you’re scared. I step up. He leans against the frame, smirking, making me come to him. I hold out my hand, forcing a smile.

His eyes darken — predator to prey. He snatches my arm, digging in his nails. Pain shoots up my arm. I bite back a cry — but a whimper slips out.

He leans close, breath hot on my cheek. “I am not above killing you, little girl. The king won’t miss a slave. Give me one good reason — just one — and you’ll be begging for death when I’m done.”

He shoves me back, lets go. My heart pounds so loud I know he hears it. He’s won — for now. My arm throbs. I glance at it when he’s not looking — already bruising, tiny cuts sealing thanks to my healing. The bruises will fade in hours.

“Can I have my list?” I croak. “I need to get started.”

He flips through his clipboard and hands me a sheet twice as long as anyone else’s. He planned this. Of course he did.

I snatch it, bolt up the stairs two at a time. I don’t care if he planned it. I just want to get away.

The stairs dump me into the castle’s grand foyer — bright marble floors, carved columns, sweeping staircases. It’s beautiful. Nothing like the cold stone box we sleep in.

OW! I hit the floor hard. Vision swims. Pain explodes in my skull.

“Oh s**t! I’m so sorry — are you okay?” a voice says.

I rub the back of my head — no blood. Thank the goddess. “I think so — but I hit my head,” I mumble, trying to sit up.

“Don’t move — let me help you.” A strong hand lifts me gently to my feet.

“Thanks. Most people here wouldn’t have bothered to say sorry — so… thanks,” I say, brushing off my skirt.

“Well then, I’m glad to be of service, my lady.”

I look up — and my mouth drops open. No. No way. I blink. It can’t be. But it is. Prince Harland — right in front of me.

“Prince Harland! I didn’t realize — I’m so sorry. I should’ve watched where I was going.”

“No — hey, you don’t have to apologize. I wasn’t paying attention — are you sure you’re okay?”

I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought. Maybe I’m dreaming. Nobody talks to us like this — except Rachel. And Miss Lilly in the kitchens. But a prince? No way.

Pain throbs in my skull again. Nope. Not a dream. “Yeah… I’m okay,” I say, still stunned.

He frowns. “At least let me get you checked out. Better safe than sorry.”

He’s serious. But he must know it’s forbidden. “I mean no disrespect, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

I hesitate. “Because… I could be killed for stepping foot near the clinic.”

Confusion flashes across his face — then he looks ashamed. “I didn’t… I’m sorry. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“I don’t.” And I don’t. How could I be mad at the first person who’s really seen me?

His eyes meet mine — warm, searching. I fidget under his gaze. My skin feels hot. He’s beautiful — everyone knows that — but up close, there’s something more.

He smiles. “You’re kind. Now that I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day — come on, at least sit for a minute.” He gestures to a plush chair.

Heat creeps into my cheeks. I sit, too stunned to argue.

He sits next to me. “Now, I can’t help but feel terrible — I’ve nearly knocked you out, and I don’t even know your name.”

“Calianna. But everyone calls me Cali.”

“Beautiful.” His eyes soften. “It suits you.”

I turn my head, pretending to watch the hall — hiding my flaming cheeks.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he says.

“Do what?” I fake innocence.

“Hide your face. I like that I make you blush,” he teases.

Goddess help me. He smiles wider when he sees it happen again. He looks at me like I’m something rare — like I matter. It terrifies me.

I snap out of it. Ivan. If he catches me here, I’m dead. “I’m sorry — I have to go. If Ivan finds out I’m not working…”

“Wait—” He reaches for me — his fingers brush my bruised arm. I flinch. He lets go instantly.

“I’m sorry — I didn’t mean to—” He runs a hand through his hair, flustered.

I cradle my arm. My chest tightens. Warmth pools in my stomach — unfamiliar and terrifying. What is wrong with me?

“I’m okay, Prince Harland. You didn’t hurt me.”

His eyes darken. He’s not convinced. He points at my arm. “Who did?”

I shrink back. Why does he care? No one ever does.

“Cali. Tell me who did this.”

“Please, Harland — drop it. I’m fine. I’ll heal.”

His jaw flexes. “Whoever did it should be punished.”

“That would only make it worse. I’m a maid. A slave. Do you really think your father — or Ivan — would just stop?”

He looks down, ashamed. “No.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m stronger than I look.”

He lifts his head — his smile returns. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

I smile back — a real one. I could stay here forever, I think. Right here. Just like this.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“For showing me that even a sliver of light can brighten the darkest room.”