Chapter 3 The Switch

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a cold, silvery glow over Prince Daniel sprawling mansion. The mansion, once vibrant with the hum of laughter and conversation, now stood still and silent. The royal dinner had ended, the guests fading into the night like stars swallowed by an endless abyss. Crystal chandeliers dimmed as the last echoes of mirth settled into the shadows of the marble hallways. Yet, amid the beauty and luxury of the palace, darkness lurked, an invisible presence creeping through the corridors of opulence.

Amelia, her face pale with exhaustion, had just finished her long shift in the servant's quarters. Her hands were sore from the day's labor, and her mind was weighed down by the weight of unspoken words, her heart heavy with the cruel uncertainty of what her future would hold. She was preparing to lay down when a call came in. It was a summons from Mrs. Cactus, her employer, with an order she could not refuse.

"The Prince requires a private tray," Mrs. Cactus's voice came cold and commanding. Amelia barely had time to process the words before she was already in motion, gathering the items. It was a routine request, one she had fulfilled countless times before. But this time, her steps carried her to an unfamiliar destination as she hopped into one of Mrs Cactus's Car.

Confusion tightened around her chest as she made her way towards the prince's mansion. Her breath was shallow, her mind clouded with worry. What could the Prince possibly need at this hour? The tension in her shoulders spoke of something more-something wrong. But what?

When she reached the door to the prince chambers, she expected to see Prince Daniel waiting. But what greeted her was far from the expected. Standing before her in a silk robe, her hair disheveled and eyes gleaming with malicious intent, was Amanda. And beside her was her mother, her face as cold and unfeeling as ever.

"It's time," Amanda said, her voice flat and venomous.

Amelia's heart raced. The words felt like a slap in the face. "Time for what?"

Amanda didn't answer immediately. Instead, she pulled out a folded document from her robe and thrust it into Amelia's hands. The words on the paper blurred in Amelia's vision as she read them, each sentence like a nail in her coffin. A confession, already signed in her name. The palace guards had been informed that Amelia and her mother had stolen royal gold. The punishment for such a crime would be severe, and the authorities would arrive at dawn.

But it didn't stop there. Mrs. Cactus's voice, sharp as ever, cut through the air. "You and your mother will be arrested tomorrow unless you do exactly as we say." Her words dripped with malice, each one a reminder of the power she wielded. "This is your choice, Amelia. Play your part tonight, and we'll forget everything."

Amelia's heart hammered in her chest, panic rising like a tidal wave. "You can't-"

"We can, and we will," Mrs. Cactus snapped, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "But you can still save yourself, and your mother. Just do what we say."

Amelia's pulse pounded in her ears as her mind raced. There had to be another way. There had to be a choice that didn't involve losing her dignity, her soul. But as she looked into Amanda's cold and calculating eyes, the harsh reality settled in. Amanda and her mother knew exactly how to manipulate the situation, how to make it seem like Amelia had no choice but to comply. And Amelia did not have the strength to fight back-at least not yet.

Amanda stepped closer, her fingers icy as they brushed against Amelia's arm. "You and I are practically identical," she said, her voice low and cruel. "You'll go into that room, and you'll do nothing, say nothing. He'll believe it's me."

Amelia's stomach churned. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but we are," Mrs. Cactus replied. "We've already taken care of everything. The Prince is drugged. He's barely conscious. He won't know the difference. You'll play your part, and this whole mess will disappear."

Tears stung Amelia's eyes, but she held them back, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her weakness. "Please, don't let me do this."

But Mrs. Cactus was unmoved. "Do this, or we take your mother's life from you. Do this, or you'll both pay the price."

The weight of their words pressed down on Amelia's chest like an iron vice. She wanted to scream, to run, but her legs felt like lead, and her voice caught in her throat. What choice did she have? If she didn't do as they said, her mother would pay the price. And that was a price she couldn't afford. Not again.

Without another word, Amanda grabbed her arm and guided her into the Prince's private chambers. The room was as extravagant as expected, but the opulence did nothing to quell the cold dread crawling under Amelia's skin. The smell of sandalwood and aged wine hung in the air, sickly sweet. Prince Daniel sat against the headboard of the bed, his golden goblet slipping from his fingers, his shirt unbuttoned, his eyes glazed over. He was barely awake, his senses dulled by the sleeping dose Amanda and her mother had slipped into his drink earlier that evening.

Amelia's breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. She had never seen him like this-vulnerable, unaware, and completely at the mercy of the cruel scheme that had been set in motion. His gaze flickered toward her, his voice a hoarse whisper. "You came back..."

Amanda's cold laugh broke through the silence. "He thinks you're me. Just lie there. Don't speak. Don't make a sound."

Every part of Amelia screamed in protest, but fear held her in place, cold and paralyzing. She was trapped-caught in a web of lies and deceit spun by the two women who had ruined her life.

With shaking hands, Amelia climbed into the bed beside the Prince. She wanted to close her eyes, to block out the world, but she couldn't. She had to endure this. For her mother. For the sake of everything she held dear. The Prince reached for her, his lips brushing against her cheek, unaware of the cruel deception unfolding. He murmured something, but it was lost in the haze of sleep that had overtaken him. He didn't know, he didn't realize.

And Amelia? She was nothing more than a pawn in a game she never asked to play.

As the night passed in a blur of pain and humiliation, Amelia's innocence was ripped away-not by the Prince, but by the cruelty of the two women who had used her as a tool for their own selfish gain.

When the Prince fell deeper into unconsciousness, Amanda slipped into the room, her presence a reminder of the sickening plan that had been set in motion. She pulled Amelia away from the bed, wiping the remnants of the night's cruel act from her skin with a towel, as though trying to erase the evidence. With practiced ease, she climbed into the bed, curling up next to the Prince as if nothing had happened.

"You were amazing tonight," Amanda whispered into the Prince's ear, her voice a sickening mix of satisfaction and false tenderness. But the Prince didn't respond. He was too far gone.

Amelia was discarded, tossed aside like a ragdoll. She stumbled out of the room, her legs unsteady, her heart shattered. Her body felt numb, the emotional toll of the night weighing heavily on her spirit. She passed through the halls of the mansion like a ghost, unnoticed, unimportant. She was nothing more than a servant in a world that didn't care.

She returned to her small room in Mrs Cactus mansion, where her mother lay asleep, unaware of the nightmare that had just unfolded. Amelia couldn't bring herself to tell her. Not yet. How could she? How could she explain this horror? Her mother would never understand. No one would.

At sunrise, the world outside continued as if nothing had changed. Amanda, in her silk gown, walked through the halls with a look of triumph on her face. "I'm engaged," she announced to the other maids, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "The Prince chose me."

She passed Amelia without a second glance, but her eyes spoke volumes. There was no pity, no remorse. Just triumph.

But Amelia? She stood tall, cleaning and enduring. She swallowed her pain, forcing herself to keep moving.

But deep inside her, something had awakened. A spark of defiance, buried beneath the layers of shame and hurt. She wasn't broken. Not yet.

And as the day wore on, as Amanda basked in her victory, Amelia knew one thing for sure, this wasn't the end, it couldn't be. The truth would come to light, and justice would be served. For now, though, she had to survive. And she would.