The Crown Saga

It wasn’t easy to stay focused on the practical things Mom was urging me to memorize throughout the rest of the tour.

The black-haired man still haunted my mind like a persistent leech. Every time I thought back to the daunting smile, I felt cold.

Everything in my mind told me to run as far away from here as possible, but my family needed me to take this job. We couldn’t afford for me to back out now.

Mom showed me a few smaller bedrooms containing bunk beds instead of the majestic beds in the previous rooms.

She explained they were at our disposal if any of the workers had to work through the night.

We continued to the old toilets, the laundry rooms, our dining area, and the room housing our cleaning supplies until I found myself standing in the middle of the kitchen again.

“Are we done?” I asked, so exhausted my legs could hardly carry me one more step.

Mom chuckled. “Yes, honey. That’s it for today.”

I sighed, relieved.

“I still have a little left to do, so you’ll have to wait here until I’m done. Then we can go home.” She gestured for me to follow her.

It took every speck of energy I had left not to roll my eyes to the back of my head.

The last thing Mom could want after a day like this was a complaining daughter.

I stayed behind her, my eyes glued to the floor as my thoughts turned into daydreams.

Without warning, she suddenly rounded a corner. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to copy her move before I walked into the unyielding body of the person standing right in front of me.

The sound of porcelain shattering made me flinch before I could apologize.

“Cursed blood!” the man in front of me exclaimed.

The entire kitchen stopped moving, all eyes directed at us.

“You again, Milo?” one voice shouted, breaking the deafening silence with roaring laughter. Chortling from another person immediately followed suit.

“This is so typical of you, Milo!” the chef laughed, bending over to stay balanced.

I looked down and saw a nest of messy, brown hair. Underneath it was the man who had passed me by so close this morning that his cologne still stung my nose.

He was already picking up the scattered pieces of the flowery plate I’d caused to break.

I couldn’t see his face, but the way the fabric of his white shirt stretched around his muscles indicated that he was physically fit—maybe even more than Koa.

Bewildered and slightly embarrassed by the laughing voices, I fell to my knees to help pick up the mess I’d made.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, reaching for one of the bigger pieces. Then a large hand grabbed my wrist before I could touch the porcelain.

“Don’t!” he exclaimed, catching my eyes with a wild expression that made me jump.

I’d never seen eyes like his before.

They were narrow yet friendly. Their color was a mix of green and brown, waging war against each other to claim the space of his iris.

Brown attacked from the periphery, and green moved from the pupil until they collided in a golden explosion.

He didn’t look mad, only worried about my unbroken skin.

Others quickly came to our rescue with a handheld vacuum cleaner and a cloth. We moved back to give them space.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, not sure if I was apologizing for the trouble I’d caused him or because he’d had to stop me from hurting myself.

He would never realize how much he might have saved me from.

“I shouldn’t have been daydreaming in a busy kitchen.”

Milo snorted and glanced at me with a crooked smile. “No,” he said. “I should be the one apologizing. I know better than to stand in the middle of the floor during rush hour.”

He towered almost a head taller than me once we straightened our backs.

The dark stubble surrounding his pink lips stood out on his olive-toned skin. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat of the kitchen.

It was disturbingly apparent that he was a First-blood.

We’d had to invest money in a bit of makeup to forge the illusion of my First-blood lie. A little lip gloss and a pat of blush had been enough to avoid suspicious eyes so far.

I only had to be mindful when the weather was too cold or hot.

Some aren’t able to hide their color. Their blood nearly taints their skin through and through, while mine only makes me look a little pale despite my sun-kissed skin.

“I’m Milo,” he said and waved his hand awkwardly.

I was about to answer him when Mom interrupted me.

“Milo is one of the mansion’s waiters,” she explained before I’d had the chance to ask myself. “Milo, this is my daughter, Willow. She’ll be joining us tomorrow.”

Milo looked slightly confused, but I didn’t dare say anything.

“Willow, huh?” he said, a smile replacing the bewildered expression. “Nice to meet you, Willow.”

His hand reached for mine, grabbing it without asking.

He surely was as strong as the shape of his body suggested—the handshake was firm, to put it nicely.

“Nice to meet you too,” I said, fighting through the discomfort of the modest pressure.

“I’m sure the two of you will see a lot more of each other in the following days, but you still have work to do, Milo, and so do I,” Mom said, breaking our handshake to make me move.

“See you around,” Milo said, chuckling.

I didn’t have time to answer before Mom pushed me through another door and into a small room.

“This is the break room,” she explained, closing the door behind her.

“We use this room when we need some time for ourselves or to clock in our hours when the day is over. This is also where you’ll find your tasks for the day.

“Margaret oversees the distribution of those, so I won’t recommend making her mad. You’ll quickly come to regret that.” She didn’t look like she was joking.

“You’ll receive a note—like mine—which you can use to keep track of the tasks assigned to you.

“These are the notes for the waiters; these are for us,” she said and pointed to the grouped notes hanging on the wall.

“These are for the kitchen staff, these are for the gardeners, and these are for the stable workers.”

“They have horses?” I asked.

Mom nodded. “Yes, but you don’t have to worry about that. Our main job is to make sure that the house is clean and presentable. We’re also responsible for ensuring the house guests and the owners are happy.”

She looked impatient. I had many more questions for her, but if we wanted to make it home at a decent hour, she had to get going.

“All right,” she said, exhaling heavily. “I will leave you here until I’ve finished my tasks. Don’t go anywhere.

“Although, I would recommend that you spend some time reading the tasks assigned to the other maids. That should give you some idea of what kind of chores you might be responsible for tomorrow.”

Then she walked out, and I was left alone in the small, windowless room.

I spent a good hour studying the notes as Mom had told me to. I memorized the chores and tried to imagine the best approaches to solve the tasks as efficiently as possible, but it got boring eventually.

I sat down by the round table in the middle of the room. The walls were gray, their corners dusted and discolored from years of neglect.

It was ironic that a place used by so many cleaners would be so dirty.

My body was becoming stiff from barely moving. So, I started stretching my fingers, folding and twisting them, while studying their movements until an idea struck.

I looked up at the small vent in the upper corner, circulating the air. There were no windows and no holes other than the vent.

No one had been in here since Mom left, and judging from the silence behind the door, no one would be in here for a while.

It had been days since I’d used my gifts. Using them here would be slightly reckless, but a little fun couldn’t hurt as long as I was careful.

Something small would do.

I formed a small cavity with my hands. Then I felt the familiar excitement of a chilly breeze flowing through my veins.

I lifted my top hand, revealing a tiny ball of concentrated air, swirling and controlled in the center of my palm.

The stable balance of my powers had me smiling like the first time I tasted vanilla ice cream. The excitement was exhilarating.

I began moving my fingers, shifting the ball while remaining in control.

It felt nice to let my powers flow a little. It was almost as if I’d been bottled up these past days, and fresh air was finally filling my dusted lungs.

Then the door was forced open, the motion startling me so much that I accidentally squashed the air ball and let loose a small gust of suspicious wind.

Milo wasn’t facing me. He was talking to somebody else, and I didn’t dare announce my presence. If he’d felt anything, I would be the only one to blame.

Then another feeling made the words in my mind as unrecognizable as the letters of the ancient languages.

Milo’s sleeves were hanging loosely around his wrists, and his shirt was unbuttoned, leaving nothing to the imagination. My cheeks burned hot.

Koa had been half-naked before me many times, but I’d known him since we were born. This was the first time I’d seen the body of a man I hardly knew. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I considered hiding underneath the table but quickly realized how silly that would look. It didn’t have a cover or a tablecloth to hide me. So, I kept seated until he turned his head to spot me.

“Willow?” he asked, surprised. “Haven’t you gone home yet?”

My eyes found the table’s surface so I could allow myself to talk.

“Mom told me to wait here until she finished working. I’ve been studying the different chores I could do tomorrow, but it got boring.”

Milo nodded and pulled a chair closer to sit beside me.

“Did you feel that before?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Feel what?” I asked, trying my best to avoid looking at him without appearing rude. He still hadn’t buttoned his shirt, and I didn’t want my face to burn more blue than it already did.

“The breeze,” he whispered. “I thought I felt some kind of draft when I opened the door, which is strange since there is no other source than the small vent up there.”

I felt the hairs on the nape of my neck rise as fear dug its talons into my chest. I’d hoped he hadn’t noticed anything unusual since he didn’t react immediately, but I’d obviously been wrong.

“No,” I lied, trying to regain control over my shaking limbs. “I didn’t feel anything. Maybe you opened the door fast enough for it to feel like a draft.”

He squinted his charming eyes ever so slightly, making my heart ride the high wave of anxiety.

He isn’t a sound manipulator, I reminded myself. ~He can’t hear if I’m lying.~

He might not be able to hear if I was lying, but my nervous body language may have been enough to give my lie away.

Then a boyish smile replaced the skeptical expression, pulling creases across his damp forehead.

“You’re probably right,” he said, turning toward me and exposing his entire naked chest. “So, you’re Elia’s daughter.”

I fought to suppress the sigh and thanked the ancient spirits that he’d accepted my explanation.

“Yes,” I said, focusing on his kind eyes instead of his skin. “I turned twenty last month, so I’m finally allowed to help her here.”

I smiled, proud.

The family of this household may be people of entitlement and power—I hadn’t yet met Master Deveroux, but I assumed he’d be somewhat like his wife and son.

But it meant more that I was able to help my family than words could ever describe.

“I know,” Milo said, sending me another crooked smile that made my heart flutter strangely. “Elia hasn’t stopped talking about you since your birthday.”

I chuckled nervously. “That sounds like Mom.”

Milo raised his hand to hover right in front of me. “I’m Milo Higgins,” he said, waiting for me to grab his hand.

Hesitantly, I slipped my hand into his. His grip, thankfully, was much gentler than before, and I relaxed.

“I’m twenty-four and originally from the Tide Region in the Ocean Realm. I’ve been living here for the past five years, working full-time to save for a proper education.”

Milo sounded like a man with a plan. It was admirable. Not many First-bloods dared to dream and work hard like that.

“Nice to meet you, Milo,” I said, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“I’m Willow Aldwyn. The Bronze Region has always been my home, but I dream of a better life for my family, and I, too, am willing to work hard for it.”

Milo chuckled. “You sound like a woman right after my heart,” he said, making my face burn from embarrassment. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“M-me too,” I said, chuckling anxiously. “I hope you’ll take care—”

The door burst open again, sending a chilly wind across my warm cheeks.

Her eyes widened when she saw Milo and me holding each other’s hands.

“Mom?”