Confession of the Maid - The Queen’s Legacy

As the kingdom's sympathy for the princess grew, an entirely different atmosphere was brewing within the princess's isolated palace. 

The guards and servants, who had felt distanced from power and wealth due to the princess's isolation, were unsatisfied with such change. 

In the shadowy recesses of the palace, discontent bubbled among the guards and servants.

"Have you heard  about the latest rumors?"

One of the guards grumbled, his arms folded across his chest. 

"The whole kingdom is weeping for our 'poor', cursed princess."

A servant rolled her eyes, her hands busy with her cleaning duties. 

"Yeah, cursed indeed," she scoffed, her tone biting. 

"Cursed to live in this grand palace, away from the hardships of common life."

"But it's us who are truly cursed," 

The guard replied, his voice lowering to a whisper. 

"We're the ones stuck in this isolated palace, serving a princess who has nothing to offer. No power, no wealth, just endless rumors and gossip."

Another servant chimed in, "Exactly. We're the ones who suffer, distanced from real power and money. All because of this cursed princess."

The echoes of their discontented whispers filled the silent corridors, adding a bitter note to the tales of sympathy that fluttered around the kingdom.

Maria, the head maid, sensed the mounting tension. A subtle shift from indifference to resentment towards the princess among the staff. 

The maid approached Laticia. 

"Your Highness, should we address the discontent among the servants?" she asked.

But the princess simply shook her head, a thoughtful look in her eyes.

Laticia's calm expression reminded Maria about her early days in the royal service. She had served the queen many years before her untimely demise.

The queen had always been a commanding presence, a woman of power and grace who ruled with a firm hand and a kind heart. 

As the predecessor Saint of the Church, the queen's words could soothe a crying child or silence a room full of squabbling nobles. The beautiful lady was not just a queen, but a beacon of strength and stability for the entire kingdom.

When Maria was first assigned to serve the young princess, she had expected to see a reflection of the queen in her. She had hoped for a strong, noble figure, a princess who would grow to be a queen as formidable as her mother. 

Instead, she was met with a quiet, obedient child. 

The princess was nothing like her mother; she was gentle and subdued, her voice rarely rising above a whisper. It was as if she was trying to blend into the palace walls, to become invisible.

Maria's disappointment was palpable. She felt as if she had been cheated, as if the princess was a poor imitation of the queen she had admired. 

But then it came the day when Laticia confronted her. 

The princess's usually gentle eyes were ablaze with a fire Maria had never seen before. Her words were firm and assertive, her voice loud and clear. It was as if she had transformed into a completely different person. 

At that moment, Maria saw a flicker of the queen in her.

The elder maid remembered the queen's radiant smile when she was pregnant, her eyes full of hope and love for her unborn daughter. 

The queen had been looking forward to the birth of her child, to the day she could hold her daughter in her arms. She had entrusted Laticia to Maria, believing that her loyal servant would take care of her daughter with the same love and dedication she had shown the queen.

Maria realized that she had let the queen down. She had judged the princess too harshly, and had let her expectations cloud her judgement. She owed the queen, and to the princess.

"I've been unfair." The maid confessed to her reflection, 

"And I let her down," 

"I let them both down." 

Maria told herself, 

"She's her own person. And she deserves to be judged on her own merits, not compared to her mother."

"I owe it to them," she declared, "And I'll make it right."

—----

After Maria left the room, Laticia decided to take a stroll around her palace. She had missed the familiar palace  after her years in the Great Abyss. 

As she walked through the corridors, she overheard the servants planning something malicious. 

Huddled in a shadowy corner, the servants whispered amongst themselves.

"You sure about this?" 

A young servant named Sam, asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

His companion, an older woman named Annie, shot him a stern look. 

"It's the only way. Didn't you hear that people are pitying her recently? This 'curse' of hers, it's time we made it seem real. People will know the Princess was indeed cursed"

"But what will the poisonous mushroom do? I mean, she is a royal family member…" 

Thomas asked, looking uneasy. 

Agnes chuckled, shaking her head. 

"It's not lethal, just enough to make her look terrible. It will cause her to grow strange pimples all over her body."

Thomas blanched. "That's… harsh."

"It is," 

Agnes agreed, her eyes gleaming with a cruel anticipation. 

"But it will work. When the people see her, they'll no longer empathize. They'll be frightened, repulsed. They'll believe she's truly cursed."

"And then?" Thomas asked.

"And then,"  Agnes replied with a wicked grin, 

"The King, His Majesty, might even abandon her, leaving us free to move to the main palace. There, we could have chances at to get more tips from the nobles."

The servants left to get back to work after the conversation, without noticing the princess standing behind.

"Right, the pimples. How could I forget that?" 

A sadistic smile appeared on the Laticia's face.

"Sounds like it's time for revenge!"