From the outside, the royal mansion looked like something out of a fairytale. Ivy climbed the pristine stone walls, perfectly manicured gardens stretched across the grounds, and golden light sparkled through dozens of arched windows. Anne paused at the iron gates, taking it all in. This was supposed to be her fresh start—a prestigious position that would change everything.

  But the moment she stepped through the servants' entrance, the fairytale shattered.

  The air inside felt heavier, colder. Maids hurried past with their heads down, voices reduced to anxious whispers. Anne noticed how they glanced nervously toward the upper floors, how they flinched at distant sounds.

  She approached an older maid who was folding sheets. "What's got everyone so scared?"

  The older woman leaned in close. "The princess. She's cursed, mark my words."

  "Cursed?"

  "Completely mute—doesn't say a word. Never smiles. And she appears like a ghost, silent as the grave." The woman's voice dropped to a whisper. "When I brought her food and clothes, she just stared at me. It was like she was looking straight through to my soul."

  "But she's just a child—"

  "It's because of her mother," another maid interrupted, drawing closer. "They say the woman seduced the king. Now he's forced to keep the girl here."

  The first maid nodded knowingly. "Even the king keeps his distance. Well, except for the youngest princess—but she's a child, she doesn't know any better."

  Anne glanced toward the upper floors uneasily. She sounds frightening, she thought. I should avoid her.

  That evening, Anne was on kitchen duty. As she rolled up her sleeves to begin washing, she noticed her bracelet still on her wrist.

  "I almost forgot."

  She slipped it off, holding it tenderly in her palm. A memory flickered through her mind—a little boy's proud smile. "I made this for you, Mum!"

  Anne let out a soft, bittersweet smile and set the bracelet carefully on the counter before turning to the dishes.

  While she scrubbed, her thoughts drifted back to the princess. Is she really cursed? There's certainly enough drama in this royal family. She shook her head.

  The hot water and soap worked through plate after plate. When she finally finished and dried her hands, she headed back to her chambers.

  Later that night, sitting on her bed after a long day's work, Anne reached for her wrist out of habit.

  Her heart dropped.

  She searched frantically—under the bed, the bedside table, every surface. Nothing.

  "No, no, no," she whispered, panic rising in her chest. "It must be in the kitchen."

  The hallways felt impossibly long in the darkness. Her flashlight flickered once, twice, then died completely.

  Anne fumbled through the kitchen, running her hands along the counters and sink.

  "Where is it?" she whispered desperately, searching blindly in the dark.

  Then—creak.

  Footsteps.

  Anne stumbled backward, panic rising in her chest, her heart hammering.

  Creak. Creak.

  A low growl echoed through the kitchen.

  The footsteps drew closer. A looming shadow appeared.

  "Please don't hurt me," Anne whimpered, pressing herself against the shelves.

  Suddenly, light flooded the kitchen.

  Anne blinked, squinting against the brightness. A small figure stood by the light switch—a little girl with an utterly blank expression, staring directly at the closet.

  Pink hair caught the lamplight.

  Without a word, the child walked to the refrigerator and pulled it open, her small body practically disappearing inside as she reached for something on a high shelf.

  Anne slowly emerged from her hiding spot, heart still racing.

  "Um, excuse me?"

  Growwwl.

  The noise came from the little girl—or rather, from her stomach.

  The child stretched on her tiptoes, fingers barely brushing a container on the highest shelf.

  She managed to pull it down and immediately opened it, scooping handfuls directly into her mouth. It was sugar.

  "No!" Anne rushed forward and gently took the container away. "You can't eat that!"

  The little girl stood perfectly still, staring at her with unreadable eyes.

  Anne braced herself for anger, tears, a tantrum—but nothing came. The child simply turned and began searching for something else.

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  "No, not flour either," Anne said as small hands reached for another container.

  The little girl looked at her again with those unnervingly calm eyes.

  Anne sighed, her fear melting into concern. "Alright, just... just watch me."

  She gathered ingredients and began making cookies while the princess observed in complete silence. When Anne offered her one, the girl hesitated—almost fearful—but then took a small bite. Her eyes widened. She devoured it hungrily, reaching for another before she'd even finished the first.

  Anne couldn't help but smile. "How hungry you must be."

  She studied the child more closely. Pink hair, delicate features, and that eerie stillness. "You must be the little princess everyone talks about."

  When the princess finished her plate, she carefully handed it back to Anne, looking up expectantly.

  "You want more?" Anne gave her another cookie with a soft laugh.

  As the girl ate, Anne remembered her bracelet. "Princess, by any chance, have you seen a bracelet? A simple one—it was given to me by someone very precious."

  The princess shook her head.

  "I see." Anne's face fell. "Well... goodnight, then."

  She returned to her chambers, mind still racing with thoughts of both her lost treasure and the strange, silent child.

  The next day, Anne couldn't stop thinking about it.

  I can't believe I lost Timmy's bracelet. She pictured her son's face, that proud smile when he'd presented it to her. There was no else in the kitchen yesterday, only… the princess.

  She was indeed frightening at first, but... also sweet, in her own way. Maybe the rumors are wrong.

  As she passed through the courtyard, Anne noticed a group of young boys surrounding a small figure with pink hair.

  "Pink hair! Pink hair! Devil child!"

  The princess stood motionless

  Anne’s hands clenched at her sides.

  Suddenly, a blonde girl rushed forward and grabbed the princess's hand. "She's my sister! You can't tease her!"

  The blonde girl—Princess Elizabeth—pulled the pink-haired child away protectively. "Ignore them, Estelle," she said warmly, and began playing with her.

  Estelle nodded quietly and allowed herself to be distracted.

  Anne watched from a distance as they played together, her chest tightening at the tenderness between them.

  Then the king appeared. He swept Elizabeth into a warm embrace, laughing and spinning her around. He patted Estelle briefly on the head—and then walked away, leaving her standing alone.

  Elizabeth was called inside by a governess. Estelle remained in the garden by herself.

  Anne approached carefully. "Princess, where is your family going?"

  Estelle looked up at her with those calm, unreadable eyes. "They're meeting guests."

  "Why aren't you going with them?"

  "Because I'm not a real princess."

  The words were spoken without emotion, as if stating a simple, immutable fact.

  Anne's heart clenched painfully, but Estelle had already turned back to examining the garden. Anne bit her lip and refrained from asking more.

  The next day, Anne overheard the other maids gossiping in the hallway.

  "Did you see? The princess refused to greet the guests yesterday. She'd rather play by herself in the dirt—how rude!"

  Anne turned sharply. "That's not true. The princess wasn't allowed to attend. They didn't invite her."

  The maids stared at her. "How do you know that?"

  "I spoke to her."

  Silence fell. Then nervous laughter rippled through the group.

  "She can speak? Well, be careful, Anne. Don't let her fool you."

  They walked away, whispering amongst themselves. Anne rolled her eyes and returned to her work.

  Through the window, she spotted Estelle in the gardens again. The little girl was searching for something, moving between the rose bushes. When she found what she was looking for—a withered, dying rose—her face fell with such profound sadness.

  She went outside. "What's wrong, Princess?"

  Estelle looked down at the dead rose in her small hands, saying nothing.

  Understanding dawned. Anne carefully took the rose. "May I try something?"

  She planted it in the greenhouse with fresh soil, tending to it with the care her own mother had taught her years ago.

  Estelle watched, eyes wide with shock and something that looked almost like hope.

  Over the next few days, Anne nurtured the rose between her duties. Against all odds, it began to bloom again—pale pink petals unfurling in the morning light.

  When Estelle saw it, she smiled for the first time—a radiant, heartbreaking smile.

  "Mama," she whispered, reaching out to touch the soft petals.

  "Were these your mama's favorite roses?" Anne asked gently.

  Estelle nodded eagerly, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Thank you, Anne."

  Anne felt her chest tighten with warmth. What a truly beautiful child.

  The next day, Anne stood outside Estelle's room and heard raised voices inside.

  "Why would you make such an awful, ugly thing?" came the sharp, cruel voice of Princess Francesca, the second princess.

  Anne pushed the door open. Francesca shot her a venomous glare and swept out of the room in a rustle of silk.

  Anne entered to find Estelle sitting on the floor, surrounded by scattered beads and broken thread. For the first time, Anne saw the little princess visibly upset—her hands trembling, her jaw tight.

  "Don't worry, Princess. We can fix this," Anne said softly, kneeling to gather the pieces.

  Estelle's face crumpled. She began to weep—quiet, trembling sobs that shook her small shoulders.

  "Why are you crying, Princess?"

  Through her tears, Estelle held up something—a half-finished bracelet, the beads barely held together by fragile thread.

  "You... you said you lost your precious bracelet." Her voice was small and broken

  "I wanted to make you a new one. Because you brought my mama back."

  Anne's hands froze. The world seemed to still.

  She knelt fully before the child and gently took her small hands in her own, cradling the broken bracelet between them. Tears welled in her eyes.

  "This is the most beautiful gift I've ever received," Anne whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

  She looked into Estelle's surprised, tear-stained face and smiled through her own tears. "You're truly the most wonderful, most splendid princess."

  The little girl looked stunned—almost confused at what Anne was saying.

  But it didn't matter what anyone else thought.

  Anne had made her decision.

  She was going to look after the little princess forever.

  End of chapter 1