My mystery queen

A big plan

I was already pissed from having to wake up before the sun rise just to do chores. And to top it off, I had to wear this ridiculous, oversized gown to wash clothes. Each time I fumbled with the laundry, my temper flared. Just as I was about to really get going, the bells rang loudly, cutting through the morning air. Suddenly, everyone stopped what they were doing and started moving in the same direction. They didn’t even look back—just dropped everything and left like mindless drones.

I frowned, both confused and curious. Where is everyone going like they're late to a royal ball?

"Come, Amaris, it is time for Lady Clarissa to wake up," Rose said, grabbing my wrist as if I, too, was supposed to know the drill by now.

I yanked my arm back, scowling. "The bell was for her?" I snapped, barely containing my irritation. Here she is, living my life of luxury while I’m out here scrubbing her clothes.

"You behave as though you just arrived," Rose said, casting me a cautious look. "The first bell of the day is to wake up the Ramah family. Each slave serves someone, and we are to serve Lady Clarissa."

Her calm, matter-of-fact tone made me want to scream. Great. I'm stuck serving a spoiled princess.

"Our lady loves to wake up to the smell of fresh roses and hot lemongrass tea," Rose continued as if she were announcing a grand event.

"Then, she’s soaked in warm milk before her bath, and her hair and skin are oiled with olive extracts."

Oh, the luxury. I rolled my eyes so hard I could almost see my brain. Rose practically dragged me into Clarissa’s room, where the girl was already seated in front of a blurry mirror, with Estelle by her side.

This is what they call a mirror?. I thought, eyeing the poor reflection. I’ve seen puddles with more clarity.

"You're late!" Clarissa barked, not even bothering to glance at me, her eyes still glued to her murky reflection.

I scoffed. "Isn’t the first bell for you to wake up? Which, I might add, is why we’re here."

"No, we’re not. You’re just early," I said, folding my arms as I stared at her, daring her to turn around. She finally did, her amber eyes locking onto mine, filled with disdain. A small, cruel smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Pardon?" she asked, her voice sugar-coated but sharp enough to cut.

"How is it our fault you woke up before the bell?" I replied, my tone flat and unforgiving. I felt Rose tugging at my hands, a clear signal to shut up. Not a chance.

"Eyhaaa, Lady Clarissa had a nightmare and lost her sleep," Estelle whispered in that annoyingly soft tone, trying to pacify her.

"Still doesn’t make us late," I said, refusing to back down.

"My lady, she doesn’t mean it," Rose pleaded, her eyes wide with fear, her voice trembling.

Before I could say another word, Clarissa stood abruptly and stormed over to me. Without warning, she slapped me across the face, hard. The sharp sting radiated across my cheek, making both Estelle and Rose gasp like delicate little birds.

Clarissa smiled, but her eyes were cold. "I’m sure she doesn’t mean it," she purred, pulling at my hair gently, like a cat playing with a mouse. "Right, Amaris?"

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying what I really wanted. Oh, I meant it, all right. You’re just lucky I’m stuck in this stupid book.

"Now go get my tea!" she added, her voice light and cheerful, as if she hadn’t just slapped me.

I touched my burning cheek, glaring at her. This girl is so damn lucky that death isn't the way out of this mess, or she'd be learning a lesson she wouldn't forget. But no, I had to bide my time. The goal here was getting her married to the king, not indulging in petty revenge.

"Yes, Your Highness," I muttered sarcastically before turning on my heel and marching out of the room. Oh, I’ll get her tea, alright. Maybe I’ll even spit in it.

But I had bigger plans. In the story, Estelle was supposed to save the king's life, which would lead him on a search for his mystery queen. If I could make Clarissa the one to save him, maybe I'd finally be free of this nightmare.

"Which means," I muttered under my breath, my mind already working, "anytime now, Estelle will meet the king."

"Did you hear the rumor going around the village?" Rose whispered, breaking the deadly silence in the room.

My gaze drifted from the bedspread I was reluctantly placing on the bed to an excited Rose, who was ready to spill the tea. I had already brought that b***h her tea. After enjoying it, she went off with Estelle to take her bath. To think she's treated like a princess, it always made me wonder why she was so obsessed with being a queen in the book.

"I don't care about the rumors," I answered, disinterested, partly furious that I was forced to tidy her room. I wasn’t sure what part of "I don't care" Rose didn’t understand, but she kept talking.

"Well, Queen Tamara left the palace," she said in a low tone, her brown eyes widening with excitement as she spoke.

"Oh, Queen Tamara? Isn’t she the girl the king married after Queen Ruby? Makes me wonder why he downgraded to Estelle," I blurted out. She frowned, confused.

"Estelle?" she asked, her brows furrowing. I bit down hard on my lip, staring anywhere but at her.

"I... I... A joke," I stuttered, laughing nervously. She stared at me for a second before joining me, laughing awkwardly.

"Amaris, you know, you are a strange girl," she said between giggles. I rolled my eyes, wondering when she would stop calling me Amaris. God! Is it rocket science?

"So, why did she leave the palace? Was she sent out?" I asked, trying to change the subject. I already knew why Tamara left the king. According to the book, she was sick of standing by a man who didn’t love her—plus, his crazy mother had used her child for some ritual. Classic.

"Well, poor Queen gave birth to a girl, not an heir. Rumor has it she’s deeply ashamed to face the king, and that’s why she left," Rose said, her face sad, as if she truly felt for the queen.

"What’s wrong with a girl child that she should be ashamed?" I asked, staring blankly at her.

"Well, don’t you know the history? In the history of Penopia, the first child that opens the womb of all the past queens are heirs. Well, except Ruby, who gave birth to four girls. That angered the Goddess, and then things started to go wrong," she said, her face pale.

I scoffed. How predictable.

"The animals began to die from strange diseases, then came a flood, and after that, a plague. The Goddess needed to be appeased, so the queen mother wanted to sacrifice one of the princesses to the Goddess Zara, so she could pardon us. But both the queen and king refused, so the Goddess decided to punish them. Both Queen Ruby and her four daughters died in a fire," she narrated with such seriousness it nearly made me choke. I burst out laughing.

"You find this funny?" she said, slightly raising her voice, but I just couldn’t help myself.

Was this the trend with people of the old? Blaming all their life problems on some molded carving.

"So Ruby was at fault for not birthing an heir?" I asked, still chuckling.

"Well, she was an unfortunate woman. She cursed the whole kingdom," Rose said, her tone thick with disgust.

"Because she gave birth to a girl. Who would think like that? Birthing a girl is birthing a generation, because she brings forth life," I said, matter-of-factly. Rose stared at me, horrified.

"Birthing a girl is not a thing of pride, Amaris. And making it worse is if the girl is the first child."

I crinkled my face in disgust, absolutely icked by her take on the matter.

"Fancy seeing two slaves argue about the elite," Clarissa’s voice echoed in the room, making Rose flinch. I turned my head to see a soaking wet Clarissa, fully naked, with Estelle by her side. I rolled my eyes as Rose rushed to her, wrapping a cloth around her body as she sat on a chair.

"You seem so curious about two slaves' disagreements, you had to rush out naked, my lady?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, making her snap her head toward me, glaring.

"I can see you have no use for a tongue," she replied, smiling from ear to ear, her amber eyes bright with anger.

I smiled coyly. "Of course not, my lady."

I brought the bowl filled with olive oil as Estelle and I proceeded to oil her hair. Because there was no way I was oiling a grown woman's body.

"The king is left without a queen. This is what happens when girls with no wisdom become queens," Clarissa muttered, staring at her reflection as we served her. I scoffed internally, wondering what made her think she'd be a better queen.

"How do you suggest a queen should behave? Her child was killed," I replied, massaging her scalp. I could feel her death glare through the mirror as I continued working.

"Perhaps avoid birthing a girl. Get the girl child exchanged for a boy to ensure her position as queen," Clarissa said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I chuckled. "You're right, my lady. One needs wisdom, not emotions, to hold an important position."

"Of course. I’m always right," she replied, with a smirk of pride. She was always scheming, always positioning herself, always preparing for her grand rise.

Soon after, she got dressed, and one of the maids brought in a letter. Fully aware of what it meant, I smiled.

"My lady, what would you like to do today?" Estelle asked in a soft tone. Well, I could tell her what she'd like to do. She’d like to make sure you don’t become queen.

"Take a stroll," both I and Clarissa said in unison, making everyone turn to me, shocked.

"How would you know?" Estelle asked, surprised.

"Ah... Ah... It’s one of her daily routines?" I stammered.

"I hate taking strolls. Did you perhaps know what’s in this letter?" Clarissa yelled, glaring at me.

Well, how do I tell her she’s a character in a book and I already know what happens next and what the letter contains? Her father, an official in the palace, had sent her a letter suggesting she take a stroll following the market route—the same one the king would take. With no queen by his side, he could gaze upon her beauty and choose her as his queen.

The audacity.