ELYRA.
I pinched myself hard, right on the arm, and the pain was sharp and real, not the dull kind you feel in dreams. That was when it truly sank in—I wasn’t dreaming. An ordinary maid had spoken to me like that. The memory replayed in my head, every word, every look, and the anger that had briefly settled earlier came rushing back like fire through my veins. My chest tightened as I still stood there before the dresser, my hand gripping the edge of the table tightly.
“How dare she,” I muttered under my breath.
I didn’t even wait an extra second as I stormed out of the room, intent on finding her. She was going to apologize. I didn’t care how long it took, didn't care what it took. No maid—no one in particular—got to disrespect me and walk away like nothing happened.
But the moment I s
