"From what I have observed, Rahina is diligent. Yet, I've noticed over the past few days that after completing her tasks, she always disappears."
"In my opinion as well, that is precisely what I have observed."
Lol, I'm not hardworking. I work smart, modern-world style. What's the point of being diligent if no one will praise you, right? Besides, I don't want a super-heavy workload.
Once I finish what's assigned to me, I sneak away immediately. That's enough for the day. Tomorrow, I can do it all over again.
I've been slowly exploring this place for weeks. It's old-fashioned, very different from the world I came from. One thing I've noticed here is that when someone is noble, their face is often covered. Why? I can't exactly ask anyone here why, so I just pretend I have no memory of who I am. Still, I seem to understand some basic things, even if not completely.
There's an interesting part of the palace that few visit. That's where I hang out when I have nothing else to do. Without a cellphone, time moves slowly. I've done anything I can to lessen my boredom. I have no one to talk to, so I talk to myself. Sometimes, I can't help but compare this world with the modern one.
In the afternoon, I return to the quarters before dinner to help with preparations for the evening meal for the royal family and all palace workers.
I can feel their unfamiliarity with me. After all, I'm not the Rahina they know. Who knows how they might recognize me differently from someone else.
Whenever possible, I avoid conflicts. I do my work, complete it, leave quietly, and return only when needed. I don't want to provoke anyone here.
Oh, by the way, we receive a salary here. But because we all share one room, I can't really buy the things I want. Where would I put them, anyway?
"Rahina, may I speak with you for a moment?" said a woman whose name I couldn't remember sorry, I just don't recall names easily, though I recognize her face.
"Why, ma'am?" I asked.
"You see, the person delivering the prince's dinner has a high fever. She is resting in our room. There's no one else available at the moment, and you are the only one free," she explained.
"But I'm not familiar with serving the prince."
"Allow me to guide you before you go to his chamber," she said.
She placed the food on a trolley and showed me how to arrange the utensils: spoons, forks, plates, glasses, and table napkins. Almost like a hotel set-up, very proper.
"Remember, the prince is quiet. He does not speak to anyone casually. He is not cruel, but be patient. Opportunities like this are rare," she warned before I departed.
"Once you finish serving, you may leave," she added. "Tomorrow morning, when the prince wakes, the items used for dining will be collected."
A guard accompanied me to deliver the food.
The distance from the entrance to the prince's chamber was surprisingly far. My goodness. The patience required to deliver his meals is impressive. I hope this is the first and last time I do this daily. I really don't want to repeat it.
The guard knocked. We didn't wait for a reply. The door opened, and I pushed the trolley with the food. I walked slowly, taking in my surroundings. Semi slow-motion, I guess, because it was my first time inside… well, his room is enormous. It's just one room, but it feels like a bungalow. Imagine that? Like a house inside the palace. There are countless bookshelves filled with books. The far side is dimly lit, while the entrance area is brighter.
I walked straight to the table, which seemed about two meters long, enough for five people. But he alone uses it. I arranged the food carefully. I wasn't nervous, so everything went smoothly.
"You may leave now," came a voice.
Oh my goodness! I was startled. The voice was commanding, undeniably masculine. Chills ran down my spine.
Of course, shocked, I looked up. He was about three meters away, wearing a thin black cloth covering his head and face, so I could not make out his features. He wore a long, loose-fitting burgundy dress, similar to traditional Arab attire, a white long-sleeve robe reaching the ankles, but in his color.
I didn't speak. I didn't know what to say, and anxiety took over. I simply bowed while holding the trolley with the food.
The guard accompanied me back to the entrance. I returned the trolley to the kitchen.
I could hear the cicadas again at night. It was cold. My blanket is too thin. Never mind, I'll buy three thick blankets for myself once I move. For now, only this one.
I asked one of the employees there about moving outside of the palace to live independently if that can do.
"Yes, but it depends. You must not be late or absent from work. You must arrive on time. You cannot use distance as an excuse. There will be a sleeping area here so you can serve on time," I reminded myself.
I can handle this—I just need to wake up early. But I'm a little worried since there's no clock. Should I buy a chicken to act as my alarm clock?
"Second, if you wish to isolate yourself, a steward will inspect your quarters. You must be alone. Why? The palace wants to avoid any mention of internal affairs spreading outside," they explained.
I'm not into gossip, and I have no friends here, so it's fine.
I asked because I wanted some privacy. I have a salary, right? If I stay in the shared room, I can't buy the things I want. I cannot sleep peacefully. I crave peace right now. With a little patience, I can have some solitude.
Kaysan's POV
After three knocks, a woman entered with my dinner. The room was large, so I could watch her from a distance as she placed the dishes. I approached, careful not to disturb her.
She was the same woman I had noticed before, but this was the first time she personally delivered my meal.
"You may leave now," I said. She flinched slightly, then glanced at me briefly, bowing her head before leaving.
I sat down to eat. The aromas of the dishes rose to meet me. I savored the flavors: the tender meat, the fragrant broth, the crisp freshness of the vegetables. Each bite was a small comfort, a brief connection to the world outside this palace.
After finishing, I returned to my books. Another day had passed. And the next day would come, just as slow, just as measured.
I often fell asleep with a book over my face. It served as a lullaby. Nights here felt endless, stretching quietly around me.