|Carmen's POV|
It was soothing to lie there and feel the warm water against my dark hair and skin.
The heat wrapped around me slowly, easing the tightness in my muscles, making my body feel heavier with every passing second. For a moment, it almost felt safe.
Her hands were good as she gently massaged my scalp, working carefully through my hair. The steady rhythm was enough to make my eyelids grow heavy, pulling me toward sleep.
I was still teetering between the land of dreams and reality when I suddenly heard her speak.
That alone was surprising.
Maids weren't supposed to speak unless spoken to.
There were rules for a reason.
"…if you need help getting out of here, I can help," she whispered.
Her hands never paused. Her tone didn't change. She spoke like she hadn't just committed treason by offering to betray the master of the house.
"Your hair is clean now. You can step out and I'll help you dress. There's only about twenty more minutes before dinner," she added quickly.
She said it so smoothly, so naturally, that I might have thought I imagined the first part.
If not for the fact that I knew I wasn't drunk.
And my ears didn't need cleaning.
Slowly, I turned around in the tub, ignoring the water sloshing around me as I fixed my eyes on her.
I studied her carefully.
Taking in every detail of her face as if I were trying to etch it into my memory.
She had the kind of face that was easily forgettable. Plain. Balanced. Nothing striking or unusual. The kind of face most maids had—one that didn't stand out.
There was something else, though.
She didn't look afraid.
Not even a little.
That almost made me chuckle.
I stood, stepping out of the tub and reaching for a towel to dry myself.
The possibilities ran through my mind quickly.
She had either been paid so heavily by someone that she no longer cared about her life—
Or the master of the house himself had ordered her to say those words.
Neither option was good.
Because she didn't have any friends who would pay that kind of fortune to get her out.
Luca might.
The name appeared in my mind before I could stop it.
I pushed the thought away immediately.
Hope was dangerous.
Instead, I focused on everything else that could go wrong before the night was over.
I followed her back into the bedroom, watching as she moved toward the wardrobe and pulled out a long black dinner gown.
"I prefer the red," I called out.
She didn't look surprised. She simply shook her head slightly as she closed the closet with the black gown still in her hands.
"The master left instructions for black," she replied, stepping closer to help me put it on.
Good to know I'm still a prisoner.
I wondered what other small instructions the master had left. What other decisions had already been made for me.
Still, I didn't fight it.
There was no use.
The dress slid down smoothly, the fabric heavy and expensive, the fit perfect as if it had been made for me.
I either accepted the kindness without fuss—
Or be met with violence, and the cycle would start all over again.
I was still adjusting the skirt when she opened a drawer beside the mirror.
Inside was a silver necklace.
Even without touching it, I could tell the diamonds were real.
What exactly am I being buttered up for?
She stepped behind me and placed it around my neck, tightening the clasp carefully.
Next came my hair.
If it were up to me, I would have put scissors through it years ago.
But she worked patiently, curling it section by section before pinning it into a messy bun that somehow looked controlled and elegant.
The earrings were diamonds too.
Large.
Exaggerated.
I wore them without a word, staring at my reflection in the dressing mirror.
The makeup was light. Simple.
But even without it, I looked beautiful.
It had been years since I'd worn a gown.
It didn't matter.
The black did wonders, bringing out the sharp blue of my eyes against my dark hair and skin.
A few minutes later, she stepped back. We were done.
For a moment, I wanted to stay there. Just sit in front of the mirror and hold onto the strange calm I felt.
But I knew better.
The peace was an illusion.
I was dressed in diamonds most people wouldn't be able to afford for the rest of their lives.
And yet I was still a prisoner.
Taking a deep breath, I stood and followed the maid toward the door.
My shoes sparkled as I walked. Silver and if I looked closely, I wouldn't be surprised to find diamonds there too.
Is this a show-off-how-wealthy-I-am game?
I stepped into the hallway.
The guard from earlier stood in the same place.
This time, he barely acknowledged me Or maybe he simply didn't need to.
With the maid beside me, there was no reason to watch me.
That thought made me frown as I walked past him, following the maid whose name I still didn't know.
Seems like I'll have to pay more attention to her, I thought.
As we walked, I found myself watching the way she moved.
Her steps were quiet. Balanced. Controlled.
I wondered if she walked like someone professionally trained in the killing arts.
The thought distracted me for a moment.
But only a little.
The longer we walked, the harder my heart pounded against my chest.
Each turn.
Each step.
Each second brought us closer to what was most likely the dining hall.
I needed to see who had bought me.
Who now held my fate in their hands.
And at the same time, I dreaded it.
From everything I had seen so far, one thing was clear.
Whoever it was—
They were experienced.
And obscenely rich.
But unlike the lies in the media, I knew money like this didn't come clean.
There was no way to reach this level without dipping their toes in dirty waters.
Which meant my master was bound to be affiliated with at least one of the three dons who governed the east, south, and west regions of the city of Montavero.
My unease only grew when the maid suddenly stopped.
In front of us stood large double doors.
Massive.
Heavy.
Guards stood on either side, their expressions blank, ignoring me like I didn't exist.
The maid stepped aside and gestured for me to enter.
My heart pounded harder than before.
My hands slowly curled into fists as I stepped forward and pushed the doors open.
One thing was clear in that moment.
I could try to run.
But I wouldn't get far.