The kitchen buzzed with its usual rhythm—knives striking boards, low chatter, the scent of citrus and herbs hanging thick in the air. A maid slipped in through the side entrance, her movements careful and quick as her eyes scanned the room. They halted the moment they landed on a familiar figure.
"Brendy," she whispered urgently as she threaded her way through the maids.
Brendy stiffened when she saw her. Surprise flashed across her face, followed almost instantly by worry. Roseanne was not a kitchen maid. If anyone noticed her here, they would both be punished. She set the lemon she had been slicing aside and grabbed her friend by the arm, pulling her into a narrow corner between shelves.
"Roseanne, you are not supposed to be here," she scolded under her breath.
Roseanne rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "I know that, but I had to risk it."
"Risk what?" Brendy clenched her teeth, glancing around nervously.
Roseanne leaned closer. "Did you hear what the Crown Prince did?"
