Aiden gave a single, defeated nod. "Yes, Mother."
He turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped. Each step felt heavier than the last, not from exhaustion, but from the crushing weight of his mother's expectations. He let out a long, weary sigh the moment he was out of her sight. At least in his chambers, he could have a few minutes of peace before the real torture began.
A short while later, in the sprawling courtyard of the Grand Guesthouse, the one hundred candidates stood assembled in neat rows. The air buzzed with a nervous energy. They had all changed into simple, clean dresses provided by the castle, ready to prove their worth.
A hush fell over the crowd as the royal family made their entrance. King Darius, looking slightly less stressed than before, walked beside his beaming wife. And trailing behind them, looking like he was being led to his own execution, was Prince Aiden. He had changed into a formal, dark blue tunic embroidered with silver thread. He looked every bit the prince, but his expression was one of profound boredom.
Queen Isolde stepped forward, clapping her hands together to command everyone's attention.
"Good evening, my dears!" she began, her voice booming with theatrical charm. "Welcome to the first stage of the Royal Maid Selection!"
A few girls clapped timidly.
"Good! Now, you all have been brought here because you possess a certain… spark. But a spark is not enough to serve the Dravenheart dynasty. You must be tested! You must be forged in the fires of duty!"
She gestured dramatically to three large, curtained-off areas that had been set up around the courtyard.
"You will all be tested through a series of simulations we have prepared!" she announced. "Here, you will be judged on the three core virtues of a perfect attendant!"
She pointed to the first curtained area. "First: Cooking! Can you prepare a meal fit for a king?"
Then to the second. "Second: Serving! Can you carry yourself with grace and poise under pressure?"
And finally, to the third. "And third: Cleaning! Can you restore a tarnished object to its former glory?"
A murmur went through the crowd. The tests were simple, practical, and deceptively difficult.
Among the girls, reactions were varied.
Rina clenched her fists, her face determined. Cleaning? I can do that! Cooking and serving… how hard can it be?
Talia scoffed quietly, rolling her eyes. I can gut a dragon and cook its heart over an open flame. What do they know of cooking? She played along, though, her mind focused on the real prize: information.
Lyra didn't seem to hear the tests at all. Her gaze was locked on Aiden, a soft, adoring smile on her face. I will do anything, Aiden. Anything to be near you.
Eira watched the Queen with an analytical gaze. A practical skills assessment. A logical, if crude, method of filtering candidates. I shall observe and adapt.
Seraphine hid a small yawn behind her hand. How quaint. Mortal chores. She had spent centuries perfecting such arts to blend in with human society. This would be laughably easy.
Queen Isolde clapped her hands again. "The test will begin now! You will be called one by one. May the worthiest… win!"
Aiden, standing beside his mother, let out a silent groan. This was going to be a very, very long night.
The first test was cooking. It seemed simple enough: prepare a simple vegetable stew. But as the first girl began to stir her pot, a sudden, inexplicable jet of water shot out from the stove, dousing her fire and turning her stew into a soggy mess. The girl stared, bewildered, as the judge, a stern-looking royal chef, simply shook his head and marked a large 'X' on his clipboard.
This was no test. It was a trial by sabotage.
Rina, when her turn came, was determined. She chopped her vegetables with practiced speed and hummed a little tune. But just as her stew began to simmer, a stream of water arced from nowhere, hissing into her pot. "Hey!" she yelped, jumping back. She looked around for the source, but found nothing. Frustrated, she tried to relight the fire, only to have it extinguished again. She ended up presenting a bowl of lukewarm, watery vegetables, her face fallen with disappointment.
Talia watched the failures ahead of her with a scowl. When it was her turn, she didn't even bother with the stove's built-in fire pit. She grabbed two large stones from the courtyard, built a small, contained fire on the ground, and balanced her pot over it. When the magical water jet appeared, it hissed against the hot stones, but her fire remained strong. She finished her stew with a grunt of satisfaction, presenting a hearty, well-cooked meal. The chef raised an eyebrow, impressed.
Eira simply observed. When her turn came, she noticed a faint shimmer in the air around the stove—a tell-tale sign of low-level illusion magic. As she placed her pot down, she subtly traced a small rune in the air with her finger. A shimmering, invisible shield flickered to life around her cooking station. The water jet appeared, only to splash harmlessly against her magic and vanish. She cooked her stew with perfect, serene precision.
Lyra didn't seem to care about the test at all. She just stared at Prince Aiden, who was watching from a shaded pavilion, a bored expression on his face. She placed her ingredients in the pot, and when the water jet hit her fire, she didn't even flinch. She simply stirred the cold mixture, her gaze never leaving the prince. She presented her raw, watery stew with a dreamy smile, as if it were a gourmet meal.
Seraphine sighed. This was almost insulting. When her turn came, she moved with a fluid grace that seemed to anticipate the water. She adjusted the pot's position a fraction of an inch, and the jet of water missed it entirely, splashing against the back wall. She cooked her stew in half the time of anyone else, her movements a blur of effortless efficiency.
Next was the serving test. Candidates had to carry a tray holding a single, full glass of red wine through a narrow corridor that was suddenly, inexplicably, crowded with "servants" rushing back and forth.
Rina tried her best. "Excuse me, pardon me," she squeaked, trying to navigate the chaos. A large man "accidentally" bumped into her, sending the wine sloshing over the rim. She gasped but managed to keep it from spilling, only to trip over a "carelessly" dropped mop. She arrived at the end with her dress stained and the glass only half-full.
Talia had no patience for this. She gripped her tray like a shield and plowed through the crowd. "Out of my way," she grunted, shoving people aside. She arrived at the end with her wine untouched, but the judge gave her a stern look for her "aggressive" technique.
Eira moved like a ghost. She didn't fight the crowd; she became part of it. She weaved through the chaos with a dancer's grace, her tray perfectly level, her steps so light no one seemed to notice her. She arrived without a single drop spilled.
Lyra walked straight down the middle of the corridor. Her eyes were fixed on the pavilion where Aiden sat. The "servants," seeing her intense, unnerving gaze, seemed to instinctively part to let her pass. It was as if she had an invisible force field around her.
Seraphine didn't even seem to touch the ground. She glided through the corridor, a blur of dark motion. The "servants" would later swear they felt a sudden chill and a breeze, but never actually saw her pass. She was at the end of the corridor before they had even registered her presence.
Finally, the cleaning test. A section of the marble floor had been deliberately dirtied with mud, soot, and ash. The goal was to make it spotless. Just as the first few girls finished scrubbing the floor to a shine, a handler at the far end of the courtyard opened a gate.
And out poured a dozen baby dragons.
They were adorable—no bigger than dogs, with clumsy feet and a penchant for waddling through every puddle and patch of soot they could find. They trampled all over the freshly cleaned floors, leaving a new trail of muddy, dragon-sized footprints. The girls who had just finished could only stare in despair.
Rina gasped, but then she laughed. "Oh, you little troublemakers!" she cooed, forgetting the test entirely. She started trying to herd the baby dragons, who found this a delightful game and began chasing her.
Talia rolled her eyes. She let out a sharp, commanding whistle, a sound that cut through the baby dragons' happy chirps. They all froze, turning to look at her. With another sharp gesture, she pointed towards the open gate. The baby dragons, recognizing an alpha, immediately waddled back through it, leaving the floor clean.
Eira watched the dragons' chaotic path. She saw they were drawn to the shiniest objects. She pulled a small, polished silver spoon from her pocket and tossed it into an empty cage nearby. The entire herd of baby dragons scrambled after it, piling into the cage to fight over the shiny object.
Lyra simply stood and watched the baby dragons. One of them, a little black one, wandered over to her and nuzzled her leg. She reached down and scratched its head. The other baby dragons, seeing this, followed their leader and gathered around her like she was their mother, completely clearing the floor.
Seraphine just stared at the approaching baby dragons. She didn't move. She didn't say a word. She just met their gaze with her own ancient, hypnotic eyes. The baby dragons skidded to a halt, suddenly sleepy. One by one, they curled up on the floor and fell asleep, right there on the dirty marble.
From the pavilion, Queen Isolde and King Darius watched, their eyes wide.
"Did you see that?" the King whispered, pointing. "The red-headed one commanded them! The silver-haired one tricked them! The dark-haired one… they just obeyed her!"
The Queen's smile was triumphant. "I told you, my love. We didn't hire maids. We found… wonders."
Aiden, however, just slumped lower in his seat. This wasn't a selection process. It was a circus. And he was the unwilling ringmaster.