Solena

Solena

The stone steps felt colder than before. My knees ached as I scrubbed with the rough brush, my arms trembling with every stroke. The marble had already begun to shine in patches, but I could barely see clearly anymore. The torchlight cast long, flickering shadows across the hallway. My palms were raw. My stomach grumbled. And Tasha’s voice still rang in my ears:

“Make sure it glistens. I want to see my face in every step. And don’t you dare sleep.”

Sleep. I could’ve laughed, if I wasn’t already on the verge of tears. My eyes stung from keeping them open too long. My arms begged for mercy. My body had never felt this weak.

I pressed my forehead briefly against the cold step to steady myself, breathing in shallow gasps. Just five minutes. Just five.

“You look like a worm,” a deep voice said behind me, thick with mockery.

I froze.

Slowly, I turned my head and saw Tyler, lounging against the banister. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned, his hair wild like he hadn’t slept in days but his smirk was alive and wicked.

“You know, that dress doesn’t do you any favors,” he said, walking toward me.

I scrambled up onto my knees, clutching the brush like a weapon. “I… I’m working,” I said, voice low.

Tyler chuckled. “You don’t need to talk. Just let me look at you.”

He crouched in front of me and lifted a strand of my hair. “You’re not like the other maids,” he said, tilting his head. “You’ve got that… softness. That glow.”

His fingers brushed my cheek. I flinched.

“I think I know why Father keeps you around,” he muttered, “Maybe even why

the Queen hates you so much.”

“Stop,” I whispered, pulling back, but he grabbed my wrist and tugged me forward, hard enough to knock me off balance. My knees slammed into the stone, sending pain shooting up my legs.

His other hand gripped the front of my dress. “You’re beautiful, even when you’re scared,” he said, voice husky. “That makes it more fun.”

I gasped as he tugged, the fabric tearing just slightly along the neckline. I tried to push him, but he was stronger. His hand crept down toward my chest when a sharp voice cut through the silence.

“Tyler!”

We both turned.

Queen Beth stood at the top of the stairs, eyes narrowed, fury written on her face.

“Get away from her,” she snapped.

For a brief second, I thought she was going to defend me.

Then SLAP!

Her palm struck my cheek so hard I nearly toppled backward.

“You disgusting thing,” she hissed. “Throwing yourself at your stepbrother? Do you have no shame?”

Blood rushed to my ears. “Hehe was .”

“I don’t care what lies you sputter!” she shouted. “You’re just like your mother. Seductive little witch!”

I blinked rapidly, the sting on my cheek blurring my vision. Tyler straightened with a smirk, not even pretending to deny it.

“Go,” the Queen ordered him. “The King is summoning you. Don’t make him wait.”

Tyler gave me one last look, a dark glint in his eyes, and strolled off without a word.

Queen Beth turned back to me.

“Clean yourself,” she said coldly. “You’re starting to smell like a stray dog. And remember your place, girl.”

She disappeared into the corridor like a storm.

I stayed frozen for a long while. My breath shook. My skin burned where she slapped me. And my chest ached in a way no bruises could explain.

But still I picked up the brush again.

I kept scrubbing.

Even after the Queen left and the hallway fell quiet, I scrubbed as though my life depended on it. My arms had gone numb. My knees were stiff. But if I stopped, I knew someone would come back. Maybe Tyler. Maybe her.

Or maybe the silence would speak, whispering that I really didn’t belong here.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor.

I didn’t look up.

I couldn’t bear to see another smirk, another insult, or another slap.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice sneered. “Still on your knees. You really do like that position, don’t you?”

Tasha.

I squeezed the brush in my hand. Her laughter grated in my ears.

She knelt beside me, not to help, but to push the brush away and grab my chin with her perfectly manicured fingers. She tilted my face toward the torchlight.

“Look at you,” she said, almost admiring the red mark on my cheek. “Who gave you that lovely slap? Stepmother or stepbrother?”

I pulled away.

“Aww, don’t be shy. I told you not to sleep and look, you didn’t. Maybe you’re not as useless as I thought.”

“Tasha.” I started, my voice cracked and hoarse.

“What? You think we’re friends now? You think scrubbing a few steps makes you part of the palace?”

She snatched the brush and flung it down the hall. It clattered against the stone.

“You’re just a stain in this place,” she hissed. “And no matter how hard you scrub, you’ll never belong here.”

Before I could respond, a group of maids came bustling down the corridor, chattering excitedly. Their eyes flicked toward me, then back to each other.

“Did you hear?” one whispered.

“They say the Alpha prince is arriving tonight.”

“He wasn’t supposed to come until next week!”

“No one knows why it changed”

“I heard he’s furious about something. That he killed a court guard back home.”

Tasha stood abruptly, smoothing her dress. “Don’t spread lies,” she snapped, but her eyes were wide.

“He’s not someone to lie about,” another maid murmured. “They say he can hear your heartbeat shift when you’re lying.”

“That’s not magic,” someone else giggled. “That’s just being terrifying.”

The girls passed by in a swirl of silks and gossip, their words trailing behind them like perfume.

I stayed on the ground, heartbeat suddenly loud in my ears.

The Alpha prince?

Why did that name make my stomach twist?

Tasha glared down at me one last time. “You better not embarrass the Queen while he’s here,” she muttered. “If she doesn’t kill you, I might.”

She strutted off.

And finally, the corridor was quiet again.

I stayed on the steps, too tired to move. The sound of voices echoed faintly through the palace. Announcements. Preparations. The kind of buzz that happened before royalty appeared.

I was invisible again. And maybe that was a good thing.

But then…

A soft voice broke through the stillness.

“Solena?”

I turned.

Kairos stood at the base of the stairs, holding a folded cloak and a small basket. Her eyes were kind, and her expression tense.

“You haven’t eaten,” she said, walking over and crouching beside me. “And you’re freezing.”

I tried to smile, but my lips barely moved. “They said I couldn’t rest.”

“Screw them,” she said, voice low but fierce. “You’re not a slave.”

She draped the cloak over my shoulders and set the basket beside me. I could smell bread. Fruit. Cheese.

“I don’t deserve this,” I whispered.

She looked at me then really looked. “Why do you say that?”

I swallowed hard. “Because I don’t belong here. Because everyone treats me like I’m dirt. And maybe… maybe I am.”

Kairos didn’t answer right away.

Then she said, “Do you want the truth?”

I nodded.

“You scare them,” she said simply. “You walk in here, out of nowhere, with no power, no voice, no title and somehow, you still exist. You’re still standing.”

“But I’m not strong ”

“You’re still here,” she interrupted. “That’s strength.”

My eyes burned, but I blinked fast. “Then why does it feel like I’m already broken?”

She reached into her coat and pulled out a small silver pendant. She placed it gently into my hand.

“What’s this?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Something my mother gave me before she died. She said it was for someone worth protecting.”

My breath caught.

“I think that’s you,” she added softly.

We sat in silence for a while.

Eventually, I leaned back against the wall, letting the warmth of the cloak and her words sink in. My eyes fluttered shut.

I wasn’t sure if I meant to sleep but something inside me tugged. A strange pull. A hum deep beneath my skin.

The last thing I heard before everything faded was Kairos whispering:

“They’re not ready for you, Solena. But he might be.”

Later that night, the castle was quieter, though tension hung in the air like a brewing storm. Behind the heavy oak doors of the royal study, King Marcos stood by the window, his arms folded tightly over his chest. Queen Beth sat in a high-backed chair, swirling a glass of crimson wine, her lips pursed.

“He’s arriving sooner than expected,” the King muttered, not taking his eyes off the moonlit courtyard.

Beth scoffed. “You sound nervous.”

“I am,” he admitted. “Kael does not leave the Eastern Kingdom without a reason. And he sent no letter in advance. That’s not like him.”

Beth leaned forward, placing her glass down with a soft clink. “You think he suspects?”

There was a long pause. The King finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know. But I don’t like surprises.”

She crossed one leg over the other. “You think he came because of the rumors? The marriage alliance to end the feud between both sides of Velmoura?”

“He wouldn’t come all this way unless something serious called him here. Either the council has spoken to him… or someone else did.”

The Queen’s gaze darkened. “Let’s just hope he’s not here for her.”

King Marcos didn’t respond. He only walked to the fireplace and stared into the flames. His silence said enough.

“Whatever happens,” Beth continued in a colder tone, “we keep her hidden. If Kael finds out the truth... it could unravel everything.”