Chapter 67: chapter 67

Caspian had granted Amelia’s request—to be moved to another room, far from the overwhelming grandeur of the Queen’s chamber. She hadn’t wanted the silk-draped windows or the suffocating presence of memories that weren’t hers. She simply longed for a space of her own, somewhere she could breathe.Felix walked her down a long hallway. The castle was quiet, and the soft glow of candles lit their way. After a while, he stopped in front of a wooden door. He opened it gently and stepped aside.The room inside wasn’t large, but it felt warm. A small fire burned in the hearth, casting a golden light across the walls. A soft rug covered the stone floor, and a simple bed stood near the window. It was peaceful—not royal or rich, but cozy, like a safe little corner of the world.Felix bowed and left without a word, leaving Amelia alone.She looked around slowly. This room was nice in its own way. But no matter how warm or quiet it was, the walls still felt like they were closing in. The castle was huge, full of old stories and hidden rooms—but for her, it felt like a prison.She had agreed to Caspian’s terms for one reason—her family. He had made it clear: if she refused, they would pay the price. His threat was cold and sharp, and it left her no choice. So she stepped into the castle, not as a guest, but as a sacrifice. She wore silence like armor and carried her fear like a hidden wound, all so her family could live in peace. She had given up her freedom to protect the ones she loved.She walked over to the bed and slowly sat down, her hands resting quietly in her lap. A deep, aching tiredness weighed on her—not just in her body, but in her soul. The small window across the room glowed with the soft light of evening, painting golden streaks across the floor. She gazed at it in silence, her thoughts heavy, tangled like threads she couldn’t pull apart.Amelia didn’t remember when her eyes had closed or how sleep had found her. It had crept in quietly, like the hush of night, pulling her under before she could resist. When she finally stirred, the room was no longer still.Soft rustling sounds met her ears.She blinked against the fading light filtering through the small window, her vision slowly clearing. Two maids moved around the room, carefully placing folded dresses across a small table, arranging shoes beside a modest chest, and tucking away fresh linens. The scent of lavender and rosewater floated through the air.Amelia pushed herself upright. Her body still felt heavy, but her mind was awake now—curious, cautious.The maids turned as they heard her shift, both immediately bowing their heads.“Good evening, my lady,” one of them said with a soft smile. “Did you sleep well?”Amelia gave a small nod. “Yes… I suppose I did.”Her gaze drifted around the room, then back to them. “How did you get in?”The younger maid, a girl with kind eyes and hair neatly tied back, replied gently, “You didn’t lock the door, my lady. You were sleeping so peacefully… His Majesty instructed us not to wake you.”Amelia’s brows drew together. “His Majesty? He was here?”“Yes, my lady,” the other maid answered, folding a pale blue gown with careful hands. “He came by not long after you fell asleep. He wanted to see how you were. He didn’t stay for long.”A strange unease settled in Amelia’s chest. The thought of Caspian entering while she slept made her feel exposed, vulnerable. Still, she kept her voice calm.“I see.”The maids continued their quiet work, placing small bottles of oils and perfumes near the vanity. One of them turned to her again with a gentle tone. “We’ve arranged all your necessary things, my lady. If there’s anything else you need, please let us know.”Amelia looked at the dresses—rich in fabric, far too fine for her liking—and nodded faintly. “Thank you.”The older maid offered a small curtsy. “Your bath is ready, my lady. If you’d like, we can help you prepare—”Amelia cut in, her voice soft but firm. “No, that won’t be necessary. I can manage on my own.”The younger maid gently spoke up behind her.“No, my lady… we are here to assist you.”Amelia paused, her back to them. “I can do it myself,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t need help.”The older maid took a step forward. “Please forgive us, my lady, but this isn’t a matter of choice. It is our duty to care for you… to make the Queen presentable.”Amelia turned to face them, a trace of frustration in her eyes. “Even in the bath?”“If we don’t do our duty properly,” the older maid continued with a polite bow, “His Majesty will not be pleased. And if he’s not pleased… we are easily replaced.”Her words were calm, but the meaning behind them was clear and heavy.Amelia’s expression softened. She looked at the two women—not as servants, but as people, trapped in the same quiet fear that surrounded her.She sighed, her shoulders sinking. “So even this… I can’t have to myself?” Amelia gave a small, reluctant nod, surrendering her last bit of privacy. “Alright,” she whispered.The bathwater shimmered behind the carved screen, still steaming with warmth and rose-scented oils. The maids moved quietly around her, unfastening the simple dress she wore. It slipped from her shoulders and fell silently to the floor.She stepped into the tub with slow, hesitant movements, the warmth of the water wrapping around her, but not enough to ease the discomfort in her chest.She crossed her arms over herself as she sat, tense beneath the gentle ripples.The maids worked quickly but carefully. One knelt beside the tub, pouring water over her hair with a silver jug, while the other began to lather soap into her arms with a soft cloth.“You have very delicate skin, my lady,” one of them murmured, trying to make conversation.Amelia gave a stiff nod. “Thank you,” she said, but her voice was distant.She wanted this to be over. The presence of others during such an intimate moment made her feel small, exposed. But the maids, though gentle, did not rush. They scrubbed her back, washed her hair with rose oil, and even cleaned her feet as if she were royalty born.She sat silently, letting them do their work, biting back the need to protest again.“We mean no offense, my lady,” the older one said quietly. “It’s just… the King watches everything. If anything appears out of place, we’ll be the first to suffer.”Amelia closed her eyes for a moment. She understood. She didn’t like it—but she understood.When the bath was finally done, they helped her out and wrapped her in warm towels. She stood still, dripping and silent, as they dried her hair and skin with care.Then came the gown—a deep emerald green, stitched with silver thread and delicate beadwork that shimmered like starlight.“His Majesty had this sent for you,” the younger maid said. “He thought it would suit you.”Amelia reached out and touched the fabric. It felt soft, expensive, foreign.They dressed her slowly, gently tightening the bodice, smoothing the skirts, and fixing her damp hair with a satin ribbon that matched the dress.When they finished, they stepped back and lowered their heads.“You look radiant, my lady,” the older maid said softly.She managed a small nod. “Thank you.”The maids curtsied and quietly left the room, leaving her once again in silence—dressed in silk, but wrapped in chains.