“Lamberra! You’re actually on time?” Lacey shouts, her voice rising above the noise of the crowd “I’m so sorry, Lacey. I’m just...tired. It’s been a long day,” I murmur, resting my head on her shoulder, letting the weight of it all sink in. My awful bed, the lack of good food, and no hope for the future. Lacey’s the only person I can let my guard down around. Not my best friend, maybe, but the only one I trust.

“What happened?” she asks, her tone instantly soft with concern.

“Can we skip the drinks tonight? I just...need to talk,” I say, my voice barely louder than a whisper. Before I can fully explain, Lacey pulls back and gives a sharp snap of her fingers. One of her knights is at her side in an instant. I try to catch what she’s saying, but the noise around us: the music, the chatter of people crowding Whitewash Alley drowns it all out. “Come,” Lacey says, her hand gently touching my arm. I follow her without question, weaving through the crowded streets, and soon I realize we’re heading toward Dunwood Castle, Lacey’s home. The closer we get, the more knights appear, all bowing in respect. Not just to her. To me as well. “You’re an honored guest tonight!” Lacey teases, a playful glint in her eyes as she glances back at me. Before long, we stop outside an inn, its grand façade gleaming even in the dim light. It’s easily the finest inn in the entire lordship. “Lacey...why are we here?” I ask, bewildered by the sudden change in scenery.

“Simple. This inn has everything—a kitchen, a bar, and a private room for us. And the best part? It’s all free when they see me.” Lacey flashes me a knowing smile, and I can’t help but feel a little embarrassed for my ignorance. I’ve never been here before, never been this close to Dunwood Castle. Every time I venture near, I’m met with cold, judgmental stares from the rich. As we walk inside, I spot the knight who had rushed to Lacey’s side earlier. I figure he came ahead to check out the place—smart. Lacey beams at me. “Order whatever you want, because I’m getting everything!” she says with a playful grin. Her joy is contagious, and I can’t help but smile back. I watch as she orders what feels like the entire menu, along with two bottles of wine. "I think I’ll just steal some off your plate," I tease, moving to stand next to her. “She’ll have your meat pie,” Lacey interjects without missing a beat.

“No, that’s too expensive! That pie’s over 30 crowns! I don’t even spend that in two months!” I protest, my voice rising in disbelief.

“I told you, we don’t pay here,” Lacey says, her voice firm and unwavering, a side of her I’ve never seen before. She’s standing tall, her posture sharp. Maybe she’s keeping up appearances? “Please have everything brought to our room when it’s ready,” she adds, her tone commanding as she turns to the innkeeper. It’s hard to argue with her when she’s like this.

“Of course, my lady,” the man behind the counter replies. I follow Lacey up the stairs to our room. As we step inside, I notice only one bed and a small table with two chairs. “This is what passes for royalty? It’s got a noble air about it,” I joke, though it falls flat.

“Meh, I’ve stayed worse. Especially when I’m traveling with my father,” Lacey shrugs. “This was last minute. I’m sure we could’ve gotten the best room if we’d had a bit more time.” She waves her hand dismissively before turning to the knights. “You three, out. Let me know when the food and wine arrive.” Without hesitation, they leave, and suddenly it’s just the two of us. Lacey moves to open the window above the table while I sink into one of the chairs. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asks, her voice softening as she runs her hand through my short, greasy hair on her way to her seat. The room is dim, lit only by the flicker of candlelight near the bed and on the table. I try to swallow back the tears already welling up and focus my gaze on the floor.

“I’m just tired, Lacey. I told you already,” I mutter. “What you’re doing is amazing, but... I can’t help feeling guilty about all of it.”

““The fact you feel guilty just proves how pure your heart is,” she replies, her tone gentle. “But no one’s paying for this. Not me, not my father, and certainly not you. Why are you tired?” I feel her eyes on me, but I keep staring down, unsure of what to say.

“You know, Lamberra, I respect you so much,” she says softly. My head jerks up, meeting her golden eyes. “Me? A dirty, greasy girl from the slums? Someone who sleeps next to elves? You respect me?” My voice demanded an answer.

“Of course. You work tirelessly for your family. Not for yourself, but for Selma and Amara,” she says, completely unphased by my outburst. “Though, I wonder, do you feel respected and loved? Also, I don’t mind the elves, I believe they have a rightful place in our community. Their genocide shall never be forgotten.”

I let out a soft sigh, my guard dropping. “No, they are grateful. I know that. I’m thankful for them too. But my mother’s getting older, and my sister... she’s too innocent to grow up in the slums.” Ignoring her comments about elf genocide, she dosen’t have the slightest clue. Before Lacey can respond, three loud knocks interrupt us. “Food’s here!” she exclaims, jumping up from her chair. She opens the creaky door, revealing three men balancing trays of food and bottles of wine. “Set the mains on the table and the rest on the bed,” she instructs. The men move quickly and quietly, following her orders without a word, and within moments, they’re gone. Such effortless control.

Lacey turns back to me, her usual spark returning. “Now, where were we?”

I begin cutting into the delicate dish before me, my mouth watering after barely eating anything all day. “I asked my mother if I could get a job at the castle, maybe help provide for the family,” I say between bites. “But Mama... she shut it down immediately. Told me never to bring it up again. She hasn’t yelled at me like that in years.”

There’s a pause. Lacey’s eyes widen, her smile growing as if she’s been waiting for this moment. “Miss Lamberra, I officially welcome you into my service!” she says with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting so long for you to ask!”

“No, Lacey, I can’t. Every position there requires living in the castle. I won’t abandon my family.”

Lacey waves off my concern. “Easy. Your position won’t be live-in. You can go home whenever you like.”

I shake my head, frustrated. “Lacey, it’s at least an hour, maybe two, just walking back and forth every day. It’s not practical. And it wouldn’t be fair to the other maids—”

“Who said anything about you being a maid?” Lacey interrupts, her tone playful but firm. “I said I welcome you into my service, not that you’d be scrubbing floors. You’d be my personal attendant. I hate the word ‘servant,’ makes it sound like slavery, and it’s nothing like that. I only need you on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays—the days the castle is busiest. The rest of the time, you stay home. You can even leave if something comes up.” She’s so focused on convincing me she hasn’t touched her food. “So... I’ll see you Monday, then?”

“I don’t know, Lacey. Maybe? Can I think about it?” I ask, my voice edged with worry.

“Of course, silly. Take all the time you need.” She is fully involved with her meal now. “That’s it? You just wanted to ask me for a job?”

At her words, I lose it. Tears spill down my face, and my breath comes in short, ragged gasps. I can barely see through the blur of my tears, but I hear the scrape of Lacey’s chair and feel her pulling me up from my seat. She moves the food and wine from the bed, guiding me gently to sit down. My hands bury my face, but I can glimpse her kneeling in front of me, a woman of such high status, treating me with humility.

“Berra,” she says softly, “I don’t know what’s weighing on you so much, but I know you’re strong. You’re the reason I want to succeed my father and not let my brother take over. I want to help people like you, those the nobility forget. Do you remember that man? The one who tried to... hurt you, the night we met?”

“Of course I do,” I manage through sobs.

“Well, knowing what he did, he’s still rotting in a prison cell, even after two years,” she says, her voice filled with pride.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Two years!? But... isn't the usual punishment for something like that a severe beating or losing a hand?” I ask, shocked.

“Not anymore,” she replies, her eyes gleaming. “After witnessing it firsthand, I had my father change the law. Now, you either rot in a cell forever or... become free, but only as a eunuch.” There was a long, loud silence. I bite down on my words, but when the silence stretches on a moment too long, the absurdity of it all spills out in a sharp, unexpected laugh from the both of us. “You’re sadistic!” I manage between fits of giggles, our laughter filling the room, her hand resting warmly on my thigh. As she wipes away the tears from my cheeks with her other hand, I ask, “Why are you so nice to me?”

“I believe that’s a conversation for another time,” Lacey says softly, her voice taking on a more serious tone. “But I want you to know, if there’s anything I can do for you, I’ll do it. Okay?” The authority in her words leaves no room for doubt, and I simply nod in agreement. “Not to be rude,” she continues, her tone lightening, “but this inn has a bathhouse. Would you like to try it?” I feel her hand pat my greasy hair, making me acutely aware of my disheveled state. Embarrassment flushes my cheeks, and I’m unsure how to respond. “Come on,” she urges, “I’ll go with you.”

“Huh? We’ll be... naked?” I stammer, startled by the thought. “That would be extremely disrespectful to you.”

Lacey giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Unless you’re gonna make fun of me and look at me with lustful eyes, nothing is disrespectful,” she teases, then knocks on the door and commands one of the knights to fetch fresh clothing from the castle and ensure the bathwater is hot. “While they do that,” she adds, “let’s finish eating, maybe get a little tipsy. Like I said, I still need a drink.”I follow her lead as if it’s a royal command, and this time, our conversation is light, meandering through topics like the weather, distant lordships and kingdoms, and what we’d do if we had magical powers. The tension eases, and I almost forget about the bathhouse until there’s a knock at the door. “Our clothes will be waiting in the changing room,” Lacey says as we stand to leave.

“Also, I want you to keep the clothes. They don’t fit me anymore.”I can see why. I’m so small compared to her—my legs, arms, waist, and even my breasts are barely noticeable. If not for my slight figure, I could almost pass for a boy. As we enter the bathhouse, the guards take their posts outside the door. “It must be strange,” I remark, “having so much protection all the time. I’d go insane if I never got any alone time.”

“It’s not so bad,” Lacey replies, struggling to remove her clothing. “I get time to myself in my room at the castle. It’s well-protected enough that no one needs to stand guard there.” Watching her wrestle with her gown, I can’t help but laugh. “Here, let me help.” She moves her long, bronze-colored hair out of the way, and with one swift motion, I undo the clasp holding her dress together. The entire gown slips from her body, leaving her standing in just her underwear.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, my lady! I’ll just—” I start to stammer, I should never see her like this.

“Shut up, Berra,” she interrupts, a playful grin spreading across her face. “Can I call you that? I did earlier, and you didn’t seem to mind. Is it okay?”

“Of course,” I say, my cheeks flushing with heat. “You can call me whatever you like.” My heart races, my pulse quickening in my chest. Why am I struggling to breathe?

“Good. You’re Berra to me then.” Lacey’s eyes twinkle as she steps into the bathwater. “Now hurry up. The water’s going to get cold.” I undress quickly, my hands shaking slightly as I turn around to find Lacey already watching me from the water. “My, my,” she says, her voice soft with admiration, “you’re truly beautiful.” I attempted to use both my hands to cover my chest and private area. Her gaze is intense, and I instinctively cover my chest and lower half with my hands. “What’s that large scar on your left side?” she asks, her eyes tracing the mark that runs down my body.

I hesitate, but her curiosity feels genuine, not judgmental. “When I was young, I was playing with some elven children. I fell into a ravine, and a rock sliced me open from my breast all the way down my side. The others ran to get help, and when they came back, I was lying in a pool of my own blood... but the wound had already healed.” I sink into the warm water, hoping to escape the intensity of her gaze, but Lacey rises from the bath, completely unashamed, and walks over to examine me more closely.

“Healing magic...” Lacey whispers, almost to herself.

“Nah, no way. Although elfs are the ones who predominantly have this ability, no elf was down there to do that. It’s probably a birthmark and stupid scary story Mama told me to try and keep me safe. I think I would remember a rock nearly splitting me in half.” I chuckled.

“Perhaps,” is all she says as she settles back into the water. It’s been a long time since I had a bath. My people all wash off at the Siburg river in the slums. Sadly, that’s our drinking water too, which is why we only have two bath days a week.

“I really hope you choose to become my personal servant, Berra. Truly,” Lacey says suddenly.

. “Why?” I ask, caught off guard. “I’m just an unimportant girl that, for some reason, you seem to like.” I try to lighten the mood with a joke.

“I’m tired of being alone,” she admits, her voice quieter now. “I’m alienated from my family. They’re grooming my younger brother for the lordship and trying to marry me off. I’m fighting it, but it’s creating rifts in my household. I know you think I don’t understand your struggles, but you don’t understand mine either.” Her words hit me like a wave, and I feel a pang of guilt. I never considered the weight she carries. Her life is filled with choices that hold consequences, every action scrutinized. I’ve always seen her as someone with everything, but perhaps the cost of power is its own kind of burden.

“Hey, I’m lonely too,” I tell her as I move closer to her side. “It’s just me, Mama, and Amara.” I tell her, moving closer to her side. She gives me a small side smile, grabbing the soap for our hair and bodies. Somehow, I no longer feel ashamed. “It would be nice to have someone else in my life that isn’t just my family,” I add, almost shyly.

“That’s nice to hear, Berra,” she responds softly. Not much of a response I guess. Maybe I’ve been too harsh on her all this time, letting Mama’s warnings get to me. She’s always told me to stay away from royalty, to keep Lacey at a distance, but why? This could be the opportunity I need to change not just my life, but Amara’s too.After we finish bathing, I dry off and slip into the nightgown Lacey bought for me. It’s old, but the colors of burnt orange swirled with midnight purple remind me of the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. The fabric is softer than anything I’ve ever worn, more comfortable than my own sheets and mattress. Oh, to live in luxury.

“This is the cleanest I’ve felt in years,” I tell her, feeling genuinely grateful. “Thank you for helping me feel... anew.” Lacey smiles, and we head back toward the room. One knight leads us in front, another follows at our back. The inn is almost eerily quiet now; I guess everyone left once they saw the number of knights hanging around. As we reach the room, one guard stands at the door, and Lacey speaks to him. “At once, Lady Everknight,” he says before rushing down the stairs and leaving the inn entirely.

“What was that?” I inquire.

“I informed we would be sleeping here tonight, to let the commanding officer know so we can rotate the knights. It’s important I keep them safe as much as they do for me.” She replied sharply.

“See, you have a good heart as well,” I tell her, poking her copper brown hair.

“More or less, just doing my duty.” I look around our small room in the Inn, filled with Lacey’s cheese plate and two bottles of red wine. I watch her pick one up and pour it into two glasses. “I still need my drink,” Lacey giggles, but then sighs.

“Is there anything bothering you?” I ask her.

“A lot, actually. But I shall not trouble you with it.” She says walking toward the window.

“Trouble me. At the very least, I’m a good listener.”

“King Thornewood is visiting next week. He’s been traveling for a few months to meet my father. From everything I heard, I am to marry the prince to ‘strengthen the alliance during these troubling times.’ I think it’s ridiculous.” Well that was rather easy to get her to open up, I thought to myself.

“Wouldn’t that mean you’re going to Stormhaven? The capital? After next week?” I inquire.

“Nope, I have every intention to not let this happen.” She replied firmly. I don’t bother to ask how, I’m sure she has a way.

“Well, I’m sure this will be an exciting few weeks then!” As we trade childhood stories and continue to drink both entire bottles, we both found ourselves lying on the bed laughing. As life would have it, I’m sure Mama is going to kill me tomorrow.

“Do you know, I am a bastard?” I tell her laughing.

“I thought you told me your father died when we first met?”

“HA. I wish he were dead, hell he may be. I know nothing about him. Mama refuses to talk about him.”

“So you have no surname? How sad..” Lacey trails off.

“Don’t. Lamberra, or Berra rather, is just fine!” I say happily.

“Hm. I want you to know I think nothing less of you, okay?” her voice filled with concern. “So, you are potentially a magic user, a bastard, and want to work at the castle?” Lacey says somewhat attempting to hide her laughter.

“No, yes, and maybe! I have no special abilities whatsoever, but I am a bastard, and I would like to leave the slums one day.” I felt a wave of tiredness hit my body. I’m sure the moon sits low in the sky and the sun is about to reappear. I hear Lacey mumble something to me and then I felt her arm wrap around me. As Lacey's breathing settles into the steady rhythm of sleep, I lie awake, feeling the slight warmth of her arm draped around me. The wine has softened the edges of everything, leaving a drowsy haze, but my mind flits between the elation of the evening and an unfamiliar stirring.

Just then, I hear the soft hoot of an owl outside our window, a low call that settles in my bones. It’s rare to hear one in Ashvale, especially so deep within the town. Mama used to say an owl’s visit at dawn meant news was coming, often news that unsettles and reshapes. A silly elven superstition. Still, I shiver, though. Thankfully Lacey’s warmth is a gentle balm against it.