The morning sun rose sluggishly over the kingdom, casting a pale amber light that filtered through the high kitchen windows. The scullery was already bustling with activity, pots clanging, firewood crackling, and the bitter scent of burnt onion lingering in the air. Odi, with her sleeves rolled to her elbows, was up to her wrists in soapy water, quietly washing the breakfast dishes.
Whispers swirled around her like an invisible storm. Eyes watched her, full of venom and resentment.
"Look at her," one of the older maids hissed behind her back, "acting like she's better than the rest of us."
"She thinks just because the King looks at her, she's special," another chimed in.
Odi kept her head down, ignoring them. She had become accustomed to the cruelness of the palace women. Ever since Darius scolded Lady Ariana in public—over her—hatred had brewed hotter than the cooking fires.
A bowl slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. One of the maids clicked her tongue.
"Can't even do the one thing she's good for."
Another spat beside Odi's foot. "She's probably charming every man in the palace."
Before Odi could respond, a guard entered, dressed in royal blue and bearing the King's sigil. He looked around, then fixed his gaze on her.
"Odi?"
She wiped her hands on her apron and stepped forward. "Yes, sir."
He handed her a sealed letter. "From the courier. Said it's urgent."
Odi blinked in surprise. She had never received a letter in the palace. Her heart jumped with a strange mixture of dread and hope.
As the guard left, the room fell into even colder silence.
"Oh, another one?" a young maid sneered. "How many lovers does she have?"
"First the King, now secret letters? She's nothing but a royal whore."
Odi took a deep breath, fighting back the urge to speak back at them. She walked briskly toward the back corner of the kitchen where she would be unseen. Carefully, she broke the seal and opened the parchment.
Dear Odi,
It's me, Ben.
You wouldn't believe how much I miss you. The palace here is different, colder. But I've been learning the layout. I've found passageways and people who might help. I promise, I'm going to find a way for us to be free.
You deserve that. We deserve that. To live, to laugh, to be together.
Soon, I'll send word. Until then, stay safe. Don't let them crush you.
Yours,
Ben
Odi smiled faintly at the mention of freedom, her heart warming. But the last line, "to be together" made her pause. Her fingers froze slightly on the edge of the letter.
To be together?
She blinked, then scoffed gently to herself. No. Ben meant that platonically. Like family. Like comrades. She stuffed the letter inside the folds of her apron and turned back to her chores.
***
Meanwhile, in his study, King Darius paced across the velvet carpet, a book still open on the side table. He had just finished the final chapter of "The Garden of Two,"the same tale Valerie had mentioned. The ending left him breathless—the soldier laying down his sword to live among wildflowers with the woman he loved.
His mind wandered to Odi, her wild curls, her fierce eyes, the way she never begged or cowered, even in the face of cruelty. He wanted to be that soldier for her. He wanted to lay down every title, every pretense, and simply be—with her.
He stood before the mirror, running his hand through his hair. "Odi," he practiced. "I don't want to rule you. I want to know you."
He grimaced. Too awkward.
"You are the only woman I think about."
Too forward.
He rubbed his temple and paced again. Maybe he should start with a walk. Or a poem? Flowers? Valerie had said to be honest. What if honesty pushed her away?
Voices floated from the hallway outside his chamber.
"Did you see her face when the guard gave her the letter?" one of the palace maids whispered.
"She lit up like a torch! Must be from one of her many lovers."
Darius froze.
"I'm telling you," another maid giggled, "the girl's got a queue. The King is just one of many."
"What's in that letter, I wonder? Love? Passion? Secrets?"
Their laughter echoed, and Darius's jaw clenched. He strode to the door and pressed his ear closer. The maid continued, unknowing.
"It's always the quiet ones. She plays humble, but the way men look at her—it's like she's casting a spell."
"Maybe she is a witch."
The maids erupted in laughter.
Darius slammed the door behind them, though he knew they were long gone. A storm raged in his chest.
Who had sent Odi that letter?
And why did the thought of her receiving love from someone else make his chest tighten?
He needed to know.
Not as a king.
As a man who had fallen completely, maddeningly, and utterly in love.
Back in the kitchen, Odi had finished her duties, her hands raw and wrinkled from the water. The other maids had long left, heading to the main hall for lunch service.
She sat on the edge of the stone bench, rereading Ben's letter.
She missed him, yes.
But she was confused on Ben's motive. It didn't feel healthy.
She folded the parchment again and tucked it deeper into her bodice.
She had bigger things to worry about. Secrets to keep. Alliances to navigate. And her own freedom to fight for.
She stood, brushing crumbs from her apron, and stepped out into the corridor—only to find herself face-to-face with King Darius.
His eyes searched hers.
Not with judgment.
But with questions.
With longing.
With something that felt dangerously close to heartbreak.
"Odi," he said quietly. "Can we talk?"
Her heart pounded.
She gave a small nod. "Yes, Your Majesty."
As the corridor swallowed them, neither noticed the dark figure watching from the end of the hallway.
Heath.
With a smirk curling at his lips and secrets burning in his gaze.