Chapter 1
One
Lizette
I’m so lost.
The castle of Ulleh is massive and breathtaking, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. It’s also impossibly frustrating.
How can one place have so many identical hallways?
I guess I should give myself a tiny bit of credit; I’ve only been here for a day, which isn’t long enough to memorize much of anything. Especially when you’re trying to learn new rules for a kingdom you’ve never even visited.
My shoulders sag. As if watching Princess Irissa marry the heir to the throne of our rival kingdom wasn’t bad enough, I’ve had to learn new royal protocols, servant expectations, and godforsaken identical corridors without much help at all.
It will get better; I know it will. With time, I’ll memorize every inch of this castle top to bottom as I settle into my new role as an Ulleh servant, but that doesn’t help me now.
Right now, I need to find the fucking kitchen.
Despite my mounting irritation, strolling through the unfamiliar corridors feels like I’ve walked right into a fairytale. Like magic is buzzing in the air, and I just have to find a way to unlock it.
Intricate gold details and fixtures stand out brilliantly against the dark stone, and elaborate portraits of minotaurs in battle are etched into the walls and doors. Every inch of the castle oozes opulence, such a stark difference from the one back home.
Home.
The word is bittersweet.
When I think of it, only my old kingdom comes to mind, despite the fact that I’ll probably never see it again. I live my life to serve as Irissa’s maid, the way I have since she was a child, the way I will until she’s old and gray.
Ulleh is my home now, whether I like it or not.
Making a left down the next hallway, I freeze in dismay. The elegant marble table to my right is topped with a vase spilling greenery and red flowers. It’s familiar. Because I’ve passed it once already.
I curse under my breath and turn to look over my shoulder, searching for someone who can help me find my way.
Unsurprisingly, I'm alone.
One of the benefits—and pitfalls—of this monstrous castle is its size. Finding anyone outside of mealtimes and mandatory servant chores, aside from Princess Irissa, is about as likely as me finding the kitchen alone.
Clenching my jaw, I hurry on, determined to find my way. I make a right and then a left, impatience prickling over my skin and making it itch. I'm about to give up and start opening random doors when a throat clears behind me and I startle.
With a gasp, I whip around, my eyes searching for the culprit. Standing there in the middle of the corridor, looking every bit as regal as he does intimidating, is none other than the kingdom's youngest prince, Oryx.
My heart stutters a beat as I take him in, heat prickling across my cheeks.
From his massive shoulders down, he possesses the broad, muscular form of a man, with gray skin that almost gleams blue in just the right light.
His head is that of a stunning gray bull, with eyes so dark brown it’s impossible not to get lost in them.
Bone-colored horns extend outward from his head before tipping up toward the ceiling, and my eyes linger on the sharp points.
Before coming here, I’d never seen a minotaur. I’d heard about their brutish nature and seen the destruction they were capable of. A rogue group of them attacked our kingdom many times, killing villagers and burning their homes to the ground.
But after ogling Oryx all morning at breakfast, and catching pieces of his conversations with his siblings, I’ve determined there’s nothing menacing about him.
Maybe it’s the way he carries himself, with all the confidence of a king and not the condescending nature of one, but Oryx almost seems… charming.
I tear my eyes away from his horns, my gaze falling past his low-drawn brow to his dark eyes. He’s still wearing his navy pants and loose-fitting white shirt from breakfast, the fabric dipping just low enough for me to glimpse his chiseled pectorals.
“Are you lost?” he asks, his deep timbre a rumble that melts my insides.
I attempt a smirk, but I’m too nervous to commit. I’m too stunned by the fact that he’s speaking to me, a servant.
“What gave me away?” I ask, grasping at my composure. I don’t know why I’m acting like this; I’ve been around several royals before.
But something about this one has my heart beating double-time and palms sweating.
Gods, get a grip Lizette.
He chuckles and steps closer, stopping just in front of me. Up close, he's even more massive, a towering pillar of corded muscle and brute strength. He could easily pick me up and throw me over his shoulder… with one arm.
“A hunch.” His words cut off my train of thought.
I'm so thrown off by his presence that every shred of royal protocol evaporates. The second I realize I've forgotten to bow, I panic.
“I-I’m so sorry, Your Highness.” I stoop quickly, an easy gesture in the slim black servant dress I'm wearing. It might not be as appealing as the simple gowns I wore back home, but it's much more convenient. Less fabric, less layers. The leather maroon bands around my wrists, the mark of a servant, are the only things I could do without. They’re a bit uncomfortable. “I meant no disrespect, I was just flustered because I’ve been wandering these halls forever—”
“Rise, please.” His tone is unbothered as he cuts me off, and when I stand to meet his gaze again, there’s a curious gleam in his eyes. An uptick at the corner of his lipless mouth.
Is he… amused? I don't know him well enough to be sure, but I think so. One of his faint brows rises as he looks me over.
“You don’t have to worry about rules like that with me,” he explains, keeping his voice low as his eyes sweep the hall to ensure we’re still alone. “I’m not like the rest of my family.”
My lips part, but no words come out. I’m not even sure what to say.
Royal protocol and etiquette has been crammed down my throat since I was child. To behave otherwise, to break the rules… Besides, what if he’s just baiting me to see what I’ll do?
Maybe he wants me to break the rules so I’ll get in trouble. I have no idea why he’d do that, but I also have no idea why he wouldn’t.
I swallow hard. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”
His head cants to the side, and my eyes track back to his horns. They aren’t just a part of him, they’re weapons, and he could easily run someone through with them.
At the thought, goosebumps raise on my arms, and my gaze shifts back to his. I’m probably already breaking one of the countless rules I’ve yet to learn about holding eye contact with a prince for too long, but I can’t help it. I can’t look away.
An awkward moment of silence passes between us, during which my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I might have dared to hope I could get Oryx alone, but I hadn't been insane enough to think about what I'd say to him.
Now, all I can do is shift awkwardly as my heart pounds harder.
“Where are you headed?” he asks.
“Th-the kitchen.”
His features contort into a curious expression. “The kitchen?”
I nod hurriedly. “Princess Irissa isn’t feeling well and asked me to fetch her lunch.” I spew the alibi I practiced a dozen times on my way here. “I thought I remembered the way, but I… clearly forgot.”
“How unfortunate,” he says, then steps around me, gesturing down the hall with a jerk of his horns. “Well, come on. I’ll show you the way.”