Charcoal Dust

After the royal family finished their dinner and left the room, the maids began to clear the dishes and used silverware on the table. A fresh tablecloth was spread, as were the napkins, along with unused silverware placed in front of every chair tucked inside the table.

Mr. Gilbert ordered Anastasia and another maid, "Blow out the candles in the room and make sure not a single drop of wax falls on the table or on the floor. Remove the ashes from the fireplace."

Saying those words, Mr. Gilbert stepped out of the dining room with the three maids, who carried the previously spread tablecloth and used napkins. The double doors of the dining room closed behind them.

Anastasia turned to the maid and used her hands to speak,

'You can blow out the flames of the first two chandeliers. I will take the one at the back, and then clean the fireplace.'

The maid was happy to follow it, and she smiled before whispering,

"You know, Anastasia, when I become a queen, I will appoint you as my personal maid with all the good benefits." She then turned to look at the closed double doors before turning back and saying, "But that will happen only if Prince Aiden would realise that I am his soulmate. I feel this very strong connection with him, you know?"

Anastasia nodded and reached the back of the dining room, holding a long pipe and standing near the chandelier. Of course, she knew about this strong connection because every other maid secretly felt it towards one of the Blackthorn princes.

"I keep wondering if I should reveal myself to him, but alas I haven't found an opportunity," the maid sighed. She came to stand behind the chair that Prince Aiden usually sat in, lovingly caressing the top of the chair.

Anastasia wondered if the young maid was aware that it was only a piece of wood and not Prince Aiden himself. Raising the pipe in her hand, she aimed at the flames before blowing forceful air into it and blowing out the candles one by one that was on the chandelier.

Among King William's sons, Prince Maxwell Blackthorn was one of the princes who was liked because of his friendly appearance and because he was in his early twenties. He was Lady Maya's son, who was the King's concubine, and if it weren't for Prince Aiden being the preferred heir to the throne, many women would have favoured Prince Maxwell over him.

"I will be going back to the servant's quarters," the maid announced when she was done with her job. Anastasia nodded. She was now sitting in front of the fireplace.

Anastasia picked up the small pieces of coal from the fireplace, which were useless. When she found a piece of coal that was the length of her index finger, she turned to look at the empty room and then the closed doors before slipping it into her dress pocket. She used a brush to push the ash into a wooden container until the fireplace was clean and then left the dining room.

After disposing of the waste, Anastasia returned to the kitchen and washed her hands. She then joined the other servants for dinner, who sat on the floor. She took a seat next to the maid named Charlotte and ate her food with her fingers.

"Dinner is more delicious than usual," Charlotte whispered to Anastasia as she ate. "It must be because I walked more than usual, which is my fault," she laughed.

Anastasia turned to give her a questioning look, and Charlotte replied, "The senior maid told me to fetch the baskets from the storage room and I forgot. I then had to run back." She then said, "Mm, it is tasty. It is so strange that I don't remember what I used to eat before coming here. Do you remember it, Anna?"

Feeling the gaze of a senior maid, Anastasia shook her head at Charlotte's question. The older staff preferred the servants not to discuss where they came from.

Though Anastasia's memories of her past had partly faded over the years, there were some things that she and her sister held dear. Like her mother feeding them in the backyard of their house, while she and her sister ran around before returning to take another bite of food.

After dinner, Anastasia caught up to Theresa, who was going to her room. Making sure no one was around, she spoke,

"Auntie, I will be going to meet Mary."

"Now?" Theresa asked, looking left and right, as every time the sisters met without letting others know they were related, it made her chest uneasy with the thought that someone would catch them. "I don't think it's a good idea, Anna. They have increased the number of guards in the courtesans tower."

Anastasia frowned at this information and asked, "Why? Have the courtesans turned into precious jewels?" She cheekily smiled at the end of her words. "Though I would agree considering how beautiful Marianne is."

Theresa once again turned back to make sure they were alone in the corridor before she replied,

"I heard one of the courtesans tried to run away with a servant of the royal family. The servant was executed last night, and the courtesan is locked in the underground dungeon. I believe the Vizier is still deciding on how to deal with her; after all, he is the one who is in charge of handling the courtesans and the servants."

The smile on Anastasia's lips fell, and she asked, "Isn't that extreme?"

"That's what happens when you go against the rules of the palace, Anna," Theresa warned Anastasia, knowing the young woman had set her sights on something impossible. Even if the sisters successfully escaped the palace, she feared they would be caught and punished in unimaginable ways. "You said it yourself; people in the market didn't hear about your village."

"The place I come from, people are treated like people and not as slaves," Anastasia replied, before adding, "And it was just my first attempt in the market. There must be someone in there. I will do better next time."

"By causing another mishap in the market?" Theresa asked, raising her eyebrows at the young woman, who had contributed to most of her hair turning grey fast. "You are lucky the man didn't follow you or do something bad. This isn't Hawkshead, but the Kingdom of Versailles. Haven't you heard 'When in Rome do as Romans do'?"

"Romans who?" Anastasia asked, and Theresa exhaled.

"Rome is some country. At least that is what I have heard," Theresa paused and then placed her hand on Anastasia's arm, saying, "I think it would be best for you not to meet her tonight, Anna. It isn't safe for her."

Theresa was aware that even if Anastasia wasn't careful about herself, she didn't want to cause any trouble for her sister. Anastasia agreed, "Okay, our meeting can wait." She hugged the older woman and said, "It is so good to be able to speak. I thought my voice was turning raspy and hoarse from not speaking for so long."

Anastasia wished she hadn't said anything when the Queen was around that day. If not, she would have been able to speak like the others.

Theresa patted the young woman's back and said, "It is indeed good to hear you."

Anastasia pulled back and kissed the older woman's cheek. She then smiled and wished, "Goodnight. I will see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Anna," Theresa wished her, and the two women stepped into their separate rooms.

Getting inside her room, Anastasia locked the door with the help of the little latch. After loosely braiding her hair, her hand slipped into her dress pocket and took out the small piece of charcoal she had taken from the fireplace. She always tried not to be greedy by carrying more than one.

Picking up the little lamp burning in her room, Anastasia placed it on the floor and sat down with a parchment. The parchment belonged to the royal court, where many parchments were discarded every week after being considered to be useless. It was placed at the back of the kitchen, which was where she borrowed it from. She took the ones where one side of the parchment was left blank so she could use it.

What had begun as a way to distract herself had turned into a hobby, where Anastasia used the charcoal on the parchments to sketch.

The sketches were of Hawkshead Village and what she remembered.

Anastasia's upper body had bent forward while she started to draw on the parchment, her brown eyes full of concentration. She drew a bridge she remembered she and her sister running up and down on. Two hours passed, and the palace's corridors had turned quiet as most people had gone to sleep.

"Ah!" Anastasia's face scrunched when the coal broke into not two, but three little pieces. She murmured, "To think it was almost done." Her fingertips were covered with the black powder that belonged to the coal.

Usually, whenever something like this happened, she stopped drawing for the day. But tonight, she felt a need to finish what she had started. Biting her lower lip in thought, she stood up. Picking up a shawl to cover her shoulders, she stepped out of the room.

Anastasia walked in the deserted corridor, her feet quick as she only wanted to pick another piece of coal before returning to her room. The torches on the walls that had earlier been burning had dimmed, turning the corridors slightly dark.

Knowing where to find what she was looking for, Anastasia stepped inside one of the rooms and picked up a lump of cold coal. She was tiptoeing her way back to the servants' quarters, but on her way, she caught something moving. When she turned, her eyes fell on the infamous prince of the Blackthorn family.

Dante Blackthorn.

'What is he doing out of his room at this hour?' Anastasia asked, standing behind the thick pillar with intricate carvings and designs, peeking out from behind it.

Anastasia was aware that she had the curiosity of a cat, which could get herself killed. Which was why she decided to turn around and head back to her room. But the night wind blew right at her, similar to how it had in the Bazaar.

With one hand holding the coal she went to fix her shawl with the other, and the shawl slipped and escaped from her, flying backwards.

"Where are you going?!" Anastasia whispered, turning and following the shawl that slid across the floor. "Come back…!" If only the shawl could listen to her, she thought, scolding herself at her absurd words.

But when Anastasia crossed two more pillars in the corridor and was about to pick the shawl, a soft gasp escaped from her lips. It was because she noticed something move in the shadows, turning her hands and feet cold.

Frightened, she tried to move her feet backwards, only to slip on the smooth marble floor.

The person emerged from the shadow of the pillar and the trees of the garden on this side of the inner palace. When Anastasia looked up to see who was lurking in the shadows, her eyes widened on seeing Dante. Her throat felt dry, not expecting him here, as she had only seen him disappear a moment ago.