Word traveled fast in the palace.
Faster than Amina expected.
By the time she stepped into the staff quarters later that afternoon, the air already felt different. Conversations quieted slightly. Glances lingered longer than usual.
âYouâre the one who broke the ornament, right?â
A voice came from behind.
Amina turned to see a girl leaning against the doorway, arms folded, expression curious but edged with something sharper.
âI made a mistake,â Amina replied carefully.
The girl raised a brow. âAnd youâre still here?â
Amina didnât answer.
Because she didnât know how to explain something she barely understood herself.
Another worker joined in, lowering her voice.
âPeople have been dismissed for less.â
That part Amina believed.
Which meant one thingâ
The prince had chosen not to send her away.
And that choice was already drawing attention.
âBe careful,â the first girl added, her tone shifting slightly. âFavour here is⊠complicated.â
Amina nodded slowly.
âIâm not looking for favour.â
The girl gave a small, knowing smile.
âThatâs what everyone says at the beginning.â
Amina said nothing.
Because deep down, she wasnât sure what she was looking for anymore.
Elsewhere in the palace, the prince stood by a window, his thoughts quieter than usual.
âSomething on your mind?â
His friend, Kwesi, stepped beside him, following his gaze.
âNothing important,â the prince replied.
Kwesi smirked slightly. âItâs never ânothingâ with you.â
The prince hesitated, then spoke.
âA new worker made a mistake today.â
Kwesi waited.
âAnd?â he prompted.
âShe didnât make excuses.â
Kwesi let out a short laugh. âThatâs what impressed you?â
The prince didnât respond immediately.
It wasnât just that.
It was the way she had looked at him.
Not with fear.
Not with entitlement.
But with⊠honesty.
And in a place filled with performanceâ
That was rare.