The day had come for Eamon to meet the one who would serve as his personal maid. At six years old, this meant little to him beyond the fact that there would be someone new in his life. He knew that Isolde had her own ladies-in-waiting, and Morwen had a maid who helped her with the intricacies of courtly appearance. However, this was different. This maid would be his, which both excited and confused him.

He stood in the main hall next to his father. King Cedric stood tall and imposing, his eyes scanning the room with measured authority. Eamon tried to mirror his father's posture, though his small frame lacked the regal presence. He was curious and slightly anxious about who this new person would be.

The doors at the end of the hall creaked open, and a young girl was led inside. She moved with hesitance, her gaze cast downward, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She wore the simple garb of a maid, her dark hair neatly braided, but there was an air of nervousness about her. Eamon noticed how she seemed to shrink as she approached them, her steps slow and cautious.

"This is Liora," the head housekeeper announced as they reached the dais where Eamon and his father stood. "She will serve as the young prince's personal maid."

King Cedric nodded, his expression impassive. "Liora," he began in a firm voice, "you will attend to my son’s needs. This is an important responsibility. I trust you understand what this entails."

Liora’s eyes flickered up briefly before darting back to the floor. "Yes, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She curtsied deeply, her hands trembling slightly as she did so.

Eamon watched her curtsy, feeling a pang of sympathy for the girl. She was the same age as Isolde, which meant she was expected to be capable and responsible. Yet, there was something fragile about her, something that made Eamon wonder about her past.

"Very well," King Cedric said, his tone dismissive. "You may proceed with your duties. Eamon, Liora will assist you from now on."

Eamon nodded, his gaze still fixed on the girl who had been presented to him. As his father turned to leave, Eamon hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to Liora.

"Hello," he said softly, trying to make his voice as welcoming as possible. "I'm Eamon."

Liora looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips parting slightly as if she was about to speak. For a moment, Eamon thought she might bolt from the room. But instead, she quickly curtsied again, her eyes returning to the floor.

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"Yes, Your Highness," she murmured. "It is an honor to serve you."

Eamon watched her curtsy, feeling a mix of curiosity and concern. He glanced sideways at Isolde, who stood a short distance away, watching the scene with a carefully measured expression. Isolde, at 14, had an air of maturity and poise that Liora seemed to lack. Yet, Eamon noticed a flicker of recognition in Isolde’s eyes as she observed Liora.

Later that day, as Eamon and Isolde walked through the castle gardens, Eamon couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "Isolde," he began hesitantly, "do you know Liora?"

Isolde paused, considering her words carefully. "Yes, I know her," she replied. "We grew up in the castle together, in a way. Her family has served ours for a long time."

Eamon glanced at Isolde, sensing that there was more to the story. "Why does she seem... afraid?" he asked.

Isolde sighed, her gaze distant for a moment. "Liora has had a difficult time. Her family has always served faithfully, but she has often been reprimanded for being too outspoken or too clumsy. It has made her cautious, perhaps even fearful of making mistakes."

Eamon frowned. "But she doesn’t need to be afraid of me."

"No," Isolde agreed, looking at him with a small smile. "But fear is not something that can be easily erased. It takes time to build trust. Be patient with her, Eamon."

Eamon nodded, though he still felt a knot of frustration in his chest. He didn't want someone to serve him out of fear or obligation. He wanted someone who could be a friend, like his sisters.

Over the next few days, Liora continued to attend to him with a nervous precision. She was always a step behind, ready to anticipate his needs before he could even voice them. Isolde observed this from a distance, her gaze often lingering on Liora with an unreadable expression.

One afternoon, Eamon and Isolde sat by the fountain in the courtyard, enjoying the warm sun. Liora stood nearby, holding a tray with refreshments, her eyes focused on the ground. Eamon had been trying for days to get her to open up, but every attempt had been met with polite, distant responses.

"Would you like to sit with us, Liora?" Isolde asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Liora’s eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced between Isolde and Eamon, clearly unsure how to respond. "I... I should be standing, Lady Isolde," she stammered.

"Nonsense," Isolde said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Eamon invited you to be part of his life, not just to serve him. Sit."

With visible hesitation, Liora sank down onto the edge of the fountain, her posture stiff and uncertain. Eamon smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. "You don't have to be so nervous," he said gently. "We’re not here to judge you."

Liora nodded, her eyes flickering to Isolde for reassurance. Isolde gave her a small, encouraging smile. "It's alright, Liora," she said softly. "You’re safe here."

Eamon noticed the way Liora relaxed slightly at Isolde’s words. It was as if Isolde held a key to a part of Liora that he had yet to understand. "You two were friends, weren't you?" he asked, looking between them.

Isolde hesitated before nodding. "In a way. We played together as children, but our roles were always different. I had certain freedoms that Liora did not. When she was scolded, I was often powerless to help her. It made things... complicated."

Liora’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down at her hands. "Lady Isolde was always kind to me," she murmured. "But I was told not to overstep my place."

Eamon felt a swell of anger at the invisible chains that seemed to bind Liora. "You’re not overstepping," he insisted. "Not with me."

Liora glanced up at him, surprise and something like hope in her eyes. "Thank you, Your Highness," she whispered. "I... I will try."

Isolde reached over and gently patted Liora’s hand. "We’ll work on it together," she said, her voice warm and reassuring. "You’re not alone anymore."

As they sat there by the fountain, Eamon felt a sense of determination. Liora might have entered his life as a servant, but he would ensure that she found her own place, not just as his maid, but as a person in her own right. With Isolde by their side, guiding them with her quiet strength, he knew they could help Liora find her confidence once more.