Chapter 3 The Maid and the Prince

The Thalvan palace was nothing like Rielle imagined.

It wasn't just stone and power-it was ancient magic etched into marble, golden firelight dancing across black walls, and armored guards who didn't blink twice as she walked past them in her new uniform.

She shouldn't be here.

But her curiosity had finally won.

After that night in the woods-after him-she hadn't been able to sleep. Something inside her stirred every time she thought of Prince Darian. The way he looked at her. The way he felt familiar even when he was terrifying.

She needed answers. She needed to see him again.

So she made a reckless choice.

She used the last of her saved coins to buy an enhanced Lycan masking elixir-the strongest she could find. The potion didn't just cover her scent, it rewrote it, fusing temporary Lycan traits into her aura.

To any nose or magical scan, she was a Thalvan.

She forged new documents, borrowed the identity of a dead noble's maid, and presented herself for service.

And now... she was inside.

---

"New recruit?" one of the senior maids asked, looking her up and down.

Rielle nodded. "Yes, my name is Rina." Another lie. Another mask.

"Well then, Rina. Welcome to your new prison," the woman said with a smirk. "Don't touch anything. Don't talk to anyone. And most importantly..." her eyes narrowed, "...don't ever look the Prince in the eyes unless spoken to."

Too late for that, Rielle thought, hiding her grin.

---

Darian sat alone in the throne room, leaning back on the steps, one leg stretched out, eyes half-lidded with boredom as another day of royal formality passed without blood.

He was supposed to be focused.

The Council would meet in an hour.

A rogue vampire faction had crossed the outer border.

But none of it mattered.

Because she was still in his head.

Rielle.

The way her red hair flared under the moonlight. The way her lies had tasted almost sweet. The cuffs. The fear. The fire.

He had searched the forest the next night.

Nothing.

No trace.

And it made him restless.

Obsessed.

He needed to find her again.

He needed-

"Your Highness," a servant interrupted, bowing low. "The new palace maids have arrived for duty."

He waved a hand lazily. "Send them through. I'll choose one."

The doors opened, and five girls stepped in quietly.

And when the last one walked in...

Time stopped.

She was cloaked. Head low. Her scent-Lycan.

Perfectly masked.

Too perfect.

But Darian's eyes sharpened.

He saw her.

He saw through her.

Beneath the hood, beneath the scent, behind the quiet act...

It was her.

Rielle.

He rose to his feet slowly.

"Her," he said, pointing directly at her.

The head maid blinked. "Y-Your Highness?"

He stepped forward, his golden eyes fixed on her hidden face. "The one at the end. She will be assigned to my private wing. From this moment on..."

He stood in front of her now, so close she could hear the low growl in his throat.

"...she is my personal maid."

Rielle's heart thundered.

No. No, no, no.

This wasn't the plan.

He couldn't know.

She'd covered everything-

But his smirk said otherwise.

He leaned in, just enough for only her to hear.

"Try to hide again, little wolf."

"I dare you."