Chapter 3: Polished and Bound
Annora
The walk back to the servant quarters felt heavier than it should have. My thoughts were a tangled mess, my stomach twisting with uncertainty. Just this morning, I was merely another servant, just another girl sweeping the halls of this cold, towering castle. And now?
Now, I belonged to the King’s household.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I stepped into my quarters, only to find my belongings already being packed. Elsa’s hands moved swiftly, bundling up my plain dresses, while Livia folded my things with uncharacteristic care.
“Annora, you’re here!” Elsa’s voice was breathless with excitement, her eyes wide. “It’s all set. You’re moving into the royal servants’ quarters. Can you believe it?”
I tried to summon the same enthusiasm, but my words stuck in my throat. “It all feels… fast.”
Livia snorted, though her expression softened. “Of course it does. Everything in this castle moves fast, but this is different. This is good, Annora.” She looked me in the eye, her voice laced with something unreadable. “You won’t just be some common girl anymore. You’re his now.”
His.
I forced myself to nod, even as unease coiled in my gut.
Elsa grinned, her golden curls bouncing. “Even if you don’t stay forever, you’ll leave with wealth beyond imagining. And freedom.”
Freedom.
Why did the word feel so distant?
Livia gave me a look, her expression more guarded than Elsa’s. “Just… be careful. And promise me you’ll visit us?”
My chest tightened. “Of course. I’d never forget you.”
Before I could say more, the shadow in the doorway shifted, and the head servant stepped inside. Her usual stern expression remained, but there was something different in her eyes tonight—something softer. Her gaze swept over my belongings, then settled on me.
For a long moment, she simply looked at me. Then, with a sigh, she stepped closer, her voice quieter than I had ever heard it.
“You’re moving up in the world, girl,” she said, but the words carried something more than mere observation. There was weight to them, something unspoken beneath the surface. “I’ve seen many come and go, but you…” Her lips pressed together, and she hesitated before continuing. “You’re a sharp one. You listen. That will serve you well.”
The lump in my throat grew. This was not the cold, distant woman I was used to. This was someone who, despite the walls she had built, cared for her girls.
She reached out, adjusting the strap of my bundle with an almost maternal touch. “Listen more than you speak, Annora,” she murmured. “Pay attention to everything. And most of all—” her grip on my shoulder firmed, “listen to the King.”
It was a warning. But beneath it, there was something else.
Worry.
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, mistress.”
For the briefest moment, her fingers lingered, a rare show of affection. Then, as swiftly as it came, the moment passed. She stepped back, her expression settling once more into its usual severity.
“Go on, then,” she said briskly. “Before Elsa bursts from excitement and packs you into your own bundle.”
A startled laugh escaped me, and to my shock, the corners of her mouth twitched, just for a second, before she turned and left. The warmth of that small moment stayed with me even as the cold castle halls swallowed me whole.
The castle changed at night. The halls seemed longer, the shadows deeper. I moved carefully, my new place in the King’s service pulling me toward a future I didn’t yet understand.
But then I heard it.
Hushed whispers.
“—another one gone.”
I froze. My heart pounded as I pressed myself against the wall, straining to hear.
“That’s three now. Vanished without a trace.”
Three?
A sharp intake of breath. Then another voice, hesitant. “Are you sure? They could have run off—”
“No.” The first voice was firm, thick with something heavier than fear. “They didn’t run. Something took them.”
Silence stretched between them. The fire in a nearby hearth crackled weakly, casting long, jagged shadows against the stone walls.
Then, the second voice, lower now, almost afraid to speak the words aloud. “It’s the curse. It has to be. The royal bloodline… it’s tainted. Everyone knows it.”
I bit my lip to keep from gasping.
“The ones who disappeared,” the first voice whispered, voice urgent. “They all had something in common.”
A pause.
“They all spent time with him.”
The King.
My blood turned to ice.
I pressed harder against the cold stone, willing myself to breathe. Three servants. Gone. And now… I was walking straight into the lion’s den. Had I just stepped into something I couldn’t escape?
The weight of the whispered conversation clung to me as I made my way back to my new quarters. My steps felt heavy, as if with each one, I was walking deeper into something I didn’t quite understand. The dim torchlight flickered against the stone walls, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to stretch toward me like grasping fingers.
When I reached the heavy wooden door that now marked my new chamber, I hesitated. It felt strange, unnatural, to be housed among the King’s personal servants—an honor, they called it. But in my heart, I knew better.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. My breath hitched.
The room was unlike anything I had ever known. It was twice, no, three times the size of my old quarters. The walls were lined with intricate tapestries, deep reds and golds woven into delicate patterns. A large, canopied bed with heavy velvet curtains stood in the center, the bedding far too luxurious for someone who once slept on a straw-stuffed mattress.
The air was rich with the scent of fine oils—rose, sandalwood, something deeper and spiced that I couldn’t name. A polished wooden vanity stood in the corner, its surface adorned with delicate glass bottles filled with fragrant perfumes and ointments. Nearby, a jewelry box sat open, displaying necklaces of fine gold and silver, rings adorned with gemstones that glittered even in the low candlelight.
It felt… wrong.
Common servants were not permitted such things—jewels, fine scents, extravagant comforts. But I wasn’t a common servant anymore, was I?
I traced my fingers along the cool wood of the vanity, my mind whirling. Everything about this screamed that I was no longer just a girl who swept floors and carried trays. I was to be something else, something polished and pleasing. A decoration to be presented in the King’s household.
A soft knock at the door startled me, but before I could answer, it swung open.
King Alaric stepped inside, his presence commanding, dressed in dark silks that accentuated his broad frame. His sharp gaze swept the room before settling on me.
He was not alone.
"This is Lady Agnes, the finest seamstress in the kingdom," he said. "Ensure she has only the best."
Lady Agnes dipped her head. "Yes, my Lord."
Alaric’s gaze lingered. "You will look the part, Annora. That is important."
A shiver ran down my spine.
Lady Agnes moved with practiced efficiency, her skilled hands measuring, pinching fabric, and making notes with swift strokes of her charcoal pencil. She examined me with a critical eye, assessing every inch as if I were a rare jewel waiting to be set in the finest gold. Her fingers were cool and deft, lifting my arms, tilting my chin, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face.
“You have remarkable features,” she murmured, almost begrudgingly. “The kind that draws attention whether you wish it or not. The King has an eye for such things.”
I stiffened at her words, but she continued unbothered. “Silk will suit you. Dark colors—wine, emerald, midnight blue—to enhance your presence rather than diminish it. We will need something lighter for daytime, of course. Ivory, perhaps, or pale gold, to frame your beauty without making you appear too soft.” She paused, stepping back to scrutinize me further. “You will not be overlooked, Annora. Not in any room you enter. The right dress will not change that—it will merely ensure you look as you are meant to.”
Her words carried an eerie finality, as though my fate was already being sewn into the very fabric she planned to dress me in.
She stepped back, regarding me with satisfaction. “Yes, once we are through, you will be a vision.”
A vision. Not a servant. Not a person.
Lady Agnes leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “I have dressed many before you, Annora. Some rose higher. Some disappeared.” Her eyes met mine, and for the first time, her cold detachment cracked just a little. “Be careful how brightly you shine. The King’s favor is a fickle thing.”
A shiver ran down my spine, but before I could respond, she turned briskly away, rolling up her measurements and gathering her tools. “We begin tomorrow. Do not be late.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, I exhaled slowly, my fingers curling around the rich fabric draped over the chair beside me. The weight of it was foreign, yet suffocating.
A future was being woven around me—stitched with silks and whispers, edged with danger.
I was being prepared for something I did not yet understand.