Chapter three: settling in

Blue;

"Up."

Madam Garcia’s voice cut through the early morning stillness. My eyes snapped open. The sun hadn’t even fully risen, but she was already standing over me, arms crossed, waiting.

"You will wake before sunrise every day," she said. "Work starts now."

I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What am I doing today?"

"Cleaning." She handed me a uniform. "And learning."

I took the fabric, ran my fingers over it. Dark, plain, simple.

"You will wear this at all times," she said. "No exceptions."

I nodded, quickly pulling it on.

The hallway was already buzzing with quiet movement. The servants had started their tasks—some carrying trays, others dusting corners.

One of them, a young woman with sharp eyes and tied-back hair, paused when she saw me.

"New girl?" she asked.

I nodded.

She smirked. "Hope you keep up."

Before I could respond, Madam Garcia moved forward.

"The floors must shine," she instructed. The furniture must be dust-free. The windows cannot have a single streak."

I kept up, trying to memorize everything as fast as she spoke.

We stopped in front of an ornate mirror in the hallway.

"You see this?"

I nodded.

"If I can spot a single fingerprint, you will redo the entire hallway."

My throat went dry. "Understood."

She handed me a cloth. "Get started."

As I wiped carefully, pressing down to make sure no marks remained, I noticed the movement of the other servants around me.

One, a middle-aged man sweeping the staircase, muttered, "Don’t mess up. She’s got eyes everywhere."

I didn’t respond, just kept wiping.

"You missed a corner," Madam Garcia said.

I quickly adjusted.

"And don’t rush," she added. "Precision is more important than speed."

I slowed my movements, focusing.

After a moment, she nodded. "Better."

I exhaled, relieved.

At lunch, I sat at the far end of the servants’ dining area. The space was small but organized—meant only for quick meals between tasks.

A young man across the table eyed me. "You’re the one cleaning his quarters?"

I swallowed my bite. "Yes."

A woman beside him clicked her tongue. "Well, that’s new."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Nobody else does," she said simply. Just Madam Garcia. And now you."

They exchanged glances before the young man muttered, "Hope you don’t mess up."

I didn't know what to say, so I focused on finishing my meal.

As I stood to leave, someone touched my wrist.

I turned sharply, meeting the gaze of a servant I hadn’t spoken to yet.

She was quiet but firm, her dark eyes steady.

"Luz," she introduced herself.

I hesitated. "Blue."

She studied me for a moment before saying, "Ignore them."

I blinked. "What?"

"The others," Luz clarified. "They like to whisper." Doesn’t mean they know what they’re talking about."

I nodded, uncertain.

Then, just as quickly as she had spoken, she walked away.

I stood frozen for a moment, then exhaled.

That evening, exhaustion weighed heavily on my limbs.

"You're done for today," Madam Garcia said simply. "Rest."

I walked back to my room, the small space assigned to me. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was mine—a bed, a small table, a window overlooking the back garden.

For the first time, I was able to breathe.

I lay down, staring at the ceiling, letting the ache in my muscles remind me that today was real. I was here.

I was surviving.

Sleep came fast.

The next morning, I woke to the sharp knock at my door.

The next morning, I woke up with a strange sense of purpose.

"Up," Madam Garcia called again. "More to learn."

And so the routine continued.

She took me to Leonard’s quarters, standing before the massive double doors.

"You will be the only one allowed inside," she said again. No one else enters. Not the other staff. Not the guards. Only you."

I frowned. "Why?"

She met my eyes. "Because he said so."

I swallowed.

She didn’t open the doors right away. Instead, she faced me seriously.

"Listen carefully," she said. "This is not just another room." It is his space, his world. You must respect it."

I nodded.

She pushed the doors open.

Inside, the air was different.

Still. Cold.

Everything was carefully placed. Not just neat, intentional

I barely breathed.

"You will clean this room exactly as I have done for years," Madam Garcia said. "No mistakes."

I hesitated. "What happens if I do make a mistake?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Then you’ll wish you hadn’t."

I didn’t ask anything else.

For the next two days, I worked harder than ever.

Madam Garcia corrected me constantly. If something was slightly off, she showed me how to fix it.

"You must pay attention," she said. "Notice everything."

I nodded, adjusting a book on the shelf.

She studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Good."

I felt something strange then. A small feeling. Pride

I was finally settling in.

And that was my mistake.