Liora stood at the edge of the training yard, her eyes fixed on Eamon as he sparred with Sir Gareth. The sun was high in the sky, casting sharp shadows across the ground. Eamon moved with determination, his small frame trying to keep up with the demands placed upon him. Liora admired his spirit, but a part of her couldn't shake the fear that accompanied each lesson. What was her place in all this? A maid learning alongside her prince—it was unheard of.

She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, trying to push away the doubt gnawing at her. Every lesson she attended with Eamon was a risk, a step into the unknown. And while she could see that Eamon truly wanted her there, it didn’t make the looks and whispers any easier to bear.

Later, as she made her way back to her small quarters, her mother intercepted her in the hallway. Her mother’s face was drawn and stern, her eyes narrowing with disapproval.

"Liora," she hissed, pulling her daughter aside into an empty room. "What do you think you're doing, trailing after the prince like some shadow?"

Liora looked down at her feet, feeling the sting of her mother’s words. "It was His Highness's wish," she murmured. "He asked me to attend the lessons."

Her mother's eyes flashed with anger. "It is not a maid's place to learn what you are learning! Do you want to bring shame upon this family? The other servants are talking."

Liora's heart sank. She had known this was coming, but it still hurt to hear the condemnation in her mother's voice. "I... I am only doing as he asks," she said weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her mother’s expression softened, but only slightly. "Liora, you must be careful. The prince may ask things of you, but you must also know your place. Do not overstep."

Liora nodded numbly, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to bring shame to her family, but she also didn’t want to disappoint Eamon. He had been so earnest, so insistent that she join him. She felt a strange pull toward the knowledge being shared, a desire to learn things that had always been beyond her reach.

"Enough," her mother said sharply, seeing the turmoil in her daughter's eyes. "Go to your room and think about what I've said."

Liora turned and hurried down the hallway, blinking back tears. She knew her mother was only trying to protect her, but it didn't make the words any less painful. As she passed by the servants’ quarters, she caught snippets of conversation.

"Did you see her today? Following the prince around like a lost puppy."

"Who does she think she is? A maid learning swordplay and politics?"

"She's getting above herself. Mark my words, it'll only end in trouble."

The words struck like blows, each one cutting into her confidence. Liora kept her head down, moving as quickly as she could to her small room at the back of the castle. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, taking deep, shaky breaths. The room was dimly lit, with a small bed and a simple wooden chair. It was her sanctuary, but today it felt suffocating.

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She sat down on the bed, burying her face in her hands. For a long while, she sat in silence, the weight of everyone's expectations pressing down on her. What was she supposed to do? Refuse the prince’s wishes? She could never do that. But the scorn of the others—it was almost unbearable.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Liora looked up, startled. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and Isolde stepped inside. She closed the door behind her, her expression one of concern and determination.

"Liora," Isolde said gently, moving to sit beside her on the bed. "I heard what happened."

Liora bit her lip, looking away. "Everyone thinks I'm overstepping," she whispered. "That I'm... that I'm forgetting my place."

Isolde reached out and took Liora's hand in hers. "Listen to me," she said firmly. "You are doing nothing wrong. Eamon asked you to be there because he values you. He sees something in you that the others do not."

"But I'm just a maid," Liora protested, her voice breaking. "I'm not supposed to know these things. My mother... the other servants... they all think I'm trying to be something I'm not."

Isolde's eyes softened, but there was a fierceness in her gaze. "You are not just a maid, Liora. You are someone with the capacity to learn, to grow. Eamon sees it, and so do I. Don't let others' narrow views hold you back."

Liora felt a tear slip down her cheek. "It's hard," she admitted. "The whispers, the scorn... it makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong."

Isolde squeezed her hand gently. "It's always hard to go against what others expect of you," she said quietly. "But sometimes, it's necessary. Eamon needs you, and you need to embrace this opportunity. You have the chance to be more than what they say you are."

Liora looked into Isolde's eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "But... what about my parents? What about the other maids?"

Isolde sighed, her expression growing somber. "Your parents are concerned because they fear for your future. As for the other maids... they are bound by the same expectations. They cannot see beyond the roles they were born into."

"Then what should I do?" Liora asked, her voice trembling.

Isolde gave her a small, encouraging smile. "You do what you feel is right. If you want to learn, then learn. I will speak to your parents and to the others. I will do what I can to ease the pressure. But the decision to continue... that is yours."

Liora felt a rush of gratitude toward Isolde. She had always admired her strength and resolve, the way she carried herself with grace and determination. In this moment, Isolde was offering her support, a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty that surrounded her.

"Thank you, Lady Isolde," Liora said, her voice filled with emotion. "I... I don't know what to say."

Isolde smiled warmly. "You don't have to say anything, Liora. Just know that you are not alone in this. Eamon and I—we believe in you. And if this is something you want, then it is worth pursuing, no matter what others think."

Liora nodded slowly, feeling a sense of resolve settle over her. It wouldn't be easy. The scorn and the whispers would continue. But with Eamon's encouragement and Isolde's support, she felt a spark of hope. Perhaps she could learn. Perhaps she could be more than just a maid.

Isolde stood and gently patted Liora's hand. "Rest now," she said softly. "And remember, you are stronger than you think."

As Isolde left the room, closing the door quietly behind her, Liora sat in the dim light, her mind racing. The doubt and fear were still there, but they were tempered now by the knowledge that someone believed in her. Eamon had given her the chance, and Isolde had given her the strength to accept it.

For the first time in her life, Liora felt the stirrings of something new—ambition. The desire to learn, to grow, to be something more. She wiped her tears away and stood, taking a deep breath. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges, but it was a path she wanted to take.

She would continue to stand by Eamon's side, not just as a maid, but as a student, as an ally. And as Isolde had said, she would embrace this opportunity, no matter the cost.