ANCPE 04

Chapter 4

Since she had entered the Imperial Palace as a maid, she was destined to live there as one for the rest of her life.

If she ever wanted to quit, she would have to pay a contract penalty—an enormous sum that could only be earned after working ten years as a maid. Realistically, leaving that life was impossible.

Maids in the Imperial Palace were not unpaid slaves; they did receive wages. But even so, Rachel felt no joy in it.

Most maids sent the money they earned through hard work to their families. Then, once they married, they spent the rest of their lives supporting their new families as well.

Even so, not just anyone could become a maid in the Imperial Palace, so most of them lived content with their lives.

But whether Rachel—only seven years old, a child who desperately needed her parents’ warmth—could be satisfied with such a life was another question.

Rachel may have been young, but she was sharper than anyone.

Like weak animals that constantly scan their surroundings, young and powerless Rachel was always watching everything around her.

She knew her mother was struggling. She knew her mother sighed every day. She knew her tone toward her was growing harsher.

Because of that, Rachel paid attention to every little word her mother said.

“We’re short on money…”

“Tsk, your clothes are already too small.”

“Are you still hungry?”

She knew exactly what expressions her mother wore when saying those things.

Though she was young, Rachel did her best.

When her mother went out to work, she cleaned their small house alone. As she got a little older, she even cooked while waiting for her.

She never once begged for anything, never asked to buy something. Not wanting to bother her mother, she always stayed quiet—just as her mother had told her.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have to suffer like this!”

“How did my life end up like this…?”

“You’re completely useless.”

Even so, her mother often lashed out in anger. Each time, Rachel shrank further, carefully watching her mother’s mood.

Then one day, her mother grabbed her small shoulders and spoke. That day, Rachel felt like crying.

For the first time in her life, she wanted to throw a tantrum.

“You’re going to live in the Imperial Palace from now on. There’s plenty of food there, pretty clothes, and lots of friends. Sounds nice, right?”

Rachel knew her mother wouldn’t be there—but she didn’t say it out loud.

Just like her mother did, she bit her lip tightly and held back her tears.

She wanted to say she didn’t need pretty clothes, that she would eat less. But she didn’t.

Whether she was afraid her mother would abandon her even after saying all that, or simply unable to speak because she was holding back tears, the child said nothing and only watched her mother leave.

As she stared at her mother’s back, she knew they would never meet again—but only bit her lip harder.

And so, at seven years old, Rachel became a maid of the Imperial Palace.

She spent her days doing small chores, sleeping and eating with the few other children her age.

After several months of learning proper maid etiquette, Rachel was assigned to serve a young prince—one about her age, the Third Prince.

Even so, Rachel hardly spent any time with him.

She merely ran errands for his personal attendants or for older maids.

A young maid in the palace had no reason to meet a prince directly.

Three months passed like that.

One day, following the head maid’s orders, Rachel entered the prince’s room—sent in case he might be bored, like a plaything.

But even after that, she didn’t exchange a single word with the Third Prince for three months.

He never seemed bored and preferred reading alone rather than speaking to her.

So Rachel simply stood quietly beside him while he read.

Standing still like that was as difficult as being punished; she had to shift her feet little by little without being noticed, enduring what felt like endless time.

After a long while, the first time Rachel spoke to the prince—the first time he truly looked at her—was on a bitterly cold winter day.

As usual, the Third Prince returned from swordsmanship lessons and opened a book. Then suddenly, the First and Second Princes entered and began beating him.

Whether something had happened during training or they were simply in a bad mood, no one knew. But the Third Prince seemed used to it, taking their blows without resistance.

Only Rachel, standing in the room, turned pale, her eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

“Your Highness! Please stop!”

Startled, Rachel rushed forward, thinking only that she had to stop them for the smaller prince.

But there was no way she, the youngest and weakest, could stop them.

Instead, the princes grew angry that someone so lowly dared touch them and beat her mercilessly.

“Filthy lowborn thing!”

“Is she your friend? You suit each other perfectly.”

The First Prince, so fat his eyes barely showed, and the Second Prince, missing teeth and slurring his speech, snickered together.

“Your mother was a maid too, right? Makes sense.”

“It’s disgraceful that you have silver hair—the symbol of royalty!”

The Second Prince sneered and yanked the Third Prince’s hair.

But the Third Prince didn’t cry or beg. He simply clenched his mouth shut and endured.

“Please stop! Don’t hit him!”

Instead, Rachel sobbed loudly, clutching the Second Prince’s pant leg and begging. But she was kicked away.

Whether they found tormenting a crying maid more amusing than beating the unresponsive prince, or were simply angered by her touch, they shifted their target.

The Third Prince watched expressionlessly as his brothers beat the foolish-looking maid.

After venting their anger, the intruders left, leaving only Rachel and the Third Prince in the room.

“Are you stupid?”

The young Third Prince, Ian, looked at Rachel lying on the floor, unable to get up, blood dripping from her nose, and asked bluntly.

“What, did you think they’d stop if you asked?”

“……”

Rachel cried loudly, whether from sorrow or pain. Ian watched her quietly, then left the room and returned with a maid.

“Take her and treat her.”

The maid looked displeased at having to carry Rachel, but obeyed. As soon as they left the room, she handed Rachel off to another maid and brushed her clothes off as if she were dirty.

“Treat her. And train her properly. Our treatment is bad enough already—don’t make things more troublesome.”

Rachel received what could hardly be called treatment, was scolded by the head maid, and as punishment was locked in a small room without food for two days.

Her crime was interfering in the affairs of royalty.

After two days, when she returned to Ian, he spoke again.

“Did you get treated?”

“…Yes.”

That was the end of it.

After that, he buried his head in his book again.

Rachel quietly stood near the wall, careful not to bother him.

Life returned to normal. Her wounds healed, and aside from a few changes among the attendants, nothing changed.

—

A memory she didn’t want to recall welled up in her chest.

“……”

Not wanting to think about anything related to the person sitting before her, Rachel shut her eyes tightly.