Three years later, in the far north of the Sebalstin Empire…

The air was brisk in Perta Village, nestled in the shadow of the Klen Mountain range. People crowded around a wooden post, their voices a low murmur that buzzed with excitement and speculation. A poster was tacked to the weathered wood, its elegant script drawing a curious crowd.

“What’s it say?” someone asked, craning their neck.

“It says the Grand Duke of Estonia is hiring maidservants to clean and serve an abandoned villa on the outskirts of the capital,” another replied.

“Maidservants? What about pageboys or other staff?” a third person chimed in, disappointment lacing their voice.

“Nothing. It says they’ll pay 50 kravants a month, though.”

“The outskirts of the capital… they mean that place, don’t they? The one called Jade Bleu Villa?”

“The one the late grand duke gifted to his wife and children,” someone confirmed, their voice hushed. “But it’s been sealed for more than five years, ever since that terrible accident.”

A short distance away, at the intersection of the road, a woman watched from the shade of a sprawling sycamore tree. Her rusty orange hair, the color of a setting sun, fell to her shoulders, and her honey-gold eyes watched the bustling crowd. She wore a faded navy cloak, listening intently to the snippets of conversation that drifted her way.

“Estonia…” she whispered to herself.

“You thinking of applying?” a voice asked.

Bridget, her companion, approached, holding a steaming meat-filled bun she’d just bought from a nearby vendor. Bridget had raven hair, shoulder-length and messy, and her green eyes sparkled with an easy curiosity. An apron was still tied around her waist from work. The commotion from the post was so loud that she could hear the crowd’s chatter even as she walked back to Aveline.

“Me?” Aveline replied, her gaze still fixed on the post.

“I mean, it’s only for a year, and 50 kravants a month is a lot of money,” Bridget reasoned.

Aveline’s brows furrowed as she considered it. She had been a runaway three years ago, with no home to return to. The meager coins in her pouch never lasted long. Luckily, she’d found a job as a dishwasher at the village restaurant, though the pay was just ten kravants per month, at least her meals were free, and she had a room—even if it was cramped and next to the stables.

“Old Man Nox says he’s reducing staff next week,” Bridget continued, her voice lower. “He says business is slow and he needs to cut his liabilities. At most, only five staff will be staying on.”

Aveline knew she couldn’t stay at the restaurant much longer. She needed to find another job, and if she could find one that paid well, she might as well try.

“How many people do they need?” she asked.

“It says at least twenty,” Bridget said, her eyes bright with hope.

“Let’s try tomorrow,” Aveline finally agreed.

****

The next morning, Aveline awoke early, preparing for the three-hour ride to Salem, where the hiring steward would meet the applicants. She informed Old Man Nox of her absence. 

“Sure, sure, be careful on your way,” he waved casually, as if it didn’t matter whether she returned in two days or two weeks. In truth, she had already been told she might be among those released from their jobs. It stung, but there was nothing she could do.

She boarded a rickety carriage waiting out front, where Bridget was already settled inside. The carriage rattled along the dusty, rocky road, beginning the three-hour journey to the next town, Salem.

“We should be fine, right? Nobody would reject two young, strong girls,” Bridget said confidently.

“Let’s hope so,” Aveline replied, but her mind was elsewhere.

Rattle, rattle.

She became lost in her thoughts. Anyone who had known her before would have been shocked by the change. She used to be a bubbly young woman who loved to talk, with eyes that seemed to shine as if stardust had been caught in them. Now, she was quiet, withdrawn.

Haaah… she sighed inwardly. What’s the use of thinking negative thoughts?

“Are you always this gloomy?” Bridget asked, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and worry. Though they had only known each other for six months, Bridget had become Aveline’s closest friend—a chatty whirlwind who always worried about her. “I know you’re quiet most of the time, but you know you can tell me what’s on your mind.”

Sometimes, when she looked at Bridget, Aveline was reminded of her past: the Seraphin village, the people she had known, the happy memories she had with her mother. She found herself resentful—of herself, of her fate, of the imperial family. Sometimes, she was even envious of Bridget. They were both orphans with no home, yet Bridget resembled a small, bouncing sun, radiating warmth and light, while Aveline had receded into a dark, quiet shadow of herself.