(Elira's POV, Two days ago)
I never expected to work inside a noble estate.
My family lived on the outskirts of Goldenspire, close enough to hear the bells on festival days but too far to be part of anything grand. We were a quiet household. My mother tended a small herb garden. My father repaired tools for farmers. There was no great ambition, no legacy to uphold. Just steady work and steady days.
When I was sixteen, a recruiter for the Ashencrest household passed through our village. She was looking for new maids with a calm temperament and neat work habits. I had both, or so my mother insisted, so I was sent along with a few others to be tested.
That was the first time anyone noticed my flame.
A small ember flickered from my palm when they asked us to show any elemental talent. It was not strong enough for combat or formal training, but it was steady and warm. The steward who evaluated us said it was "suitable for domestic roles," and I was hired as a junior maid for the nursery wing.
The work was simple at first.
Cleaning.
Organizing linens.
Preparing rooms for visiting nobles' children.
I learned the rhythm of the household quickly. The older maids appreciated that I listened more than I spoke. The younger ones appreciated that I never raised my voice. Before long, I was trusted with tasks that required a gentler touch; helping soothe temperamental toddlers, calming frightened children during storms, tending small burns from early flame practice.
My Quiet Flame helped with all of it, even before I understood it fully.
Years passed that way.
Steady, uneventful, honest work.
I had no real aspirations beyond doing my job well. The thought of serving a noble directly never crossed my mind. That sort of responsibility was meant for senior staff, not someone like me.
Then the Ashencrest heir was born.
The moment his flame surged through the estate, everything changed. Servants whispered about it for days. Some were nervous. A few refused nursery duties altogether. No one knew what kind of flames called out to the new heir.
And a week later, the steward told me Lady Seraphine was requesting candidates for evaluation.
I remember blinking at him; unsure I heard correctly.
"Me?" I asked.
"Yes," he answered simply. "Her ladyship said she wanted maids who are steady."
I felt something tighten in my chest then. Not fear, not excitement. Something quieter.
A sense that my life was shifting in a direction I had never planned for.
I walked into the evaluation hall expecting nothing.
The selection hall was quieter than I expected.
A dozen of us stood in a neat line beneath the tall windows of the east wing, morning light drifting in like pale gold. The older maids held themselves with practiced confidence. I kept my hands folded at my waist, trying to hide how tightly I pressed my thumbs together.
Lady Seraphine entered without attendants. She did not need any. Her presence filled the room in a steady, composed way that made everyone straighten a little taller.
We bowed.
"You may stand," she said.
Her eyes moved across the line with a measured calm.
"As you know, my son requires a personal maid. His flame manifested at birth, so I am looking for someone steady. Someone who will not be startled by him."
She walked the line and asked each of us two questions.
The first was simple:
"What is the most important duty when caring for a noble child?"
The answers all sounded similar. Structure, discipline, order.
When my turn came, I answered as calmly as I could manage.
"To make sure he grows up feeling secure," I said.
Seraphine studied me for a moment, then continued.
The second question was harder:
"What would you do if his flame surged?"
Again, the answers were predictable.
"Call the guards."
"Step back and alert someone."
"Wait for Lord Caelan."
"Remove anyone nearby."
When she reached me again, I kept my voice low and steady. I answered honestly.
"I would try to soothe him. If he is distressed, panicking around him will only worsen it."
Seraphine did not react outwardly, but her eyes held a small, unreadable note of interest.
She stepped back to address the group.
"Thank you. That will be all. You may return to your duties."
The women bowed and left in pairs, their conversations already beginning in soft murmurs as the hall emptied. I turned to leave with them.
"Elira," Seraphine said quietly.
I stopped.
"Remain here a moment."
My heart skipped once, too quick. I bowed and stayed where I was, hands clasped in front of me.
The hall door shut behind the last maid. Silence settled like dust. I drew a slow breath to steady myself.
She must have questions. Or concerns. Or perhaps she simply wanted to clarify that I was not chosen. That was the more reasonable assumption. I was younger than the others. Less experienced. And yet I had spoken without trying to sound impressive.
My thoughts circled calmly, though a faint tightness tugged at my chest.
Seraphine moved toward a side door that led into her private study.
"Come," she said.
I followed.
Her study was warm, lit by a single ember lantern. Papers were stacked neatly on the desk, along with a basin of cooling water and the faint scent of herbal salve. She had likely been caring for her son before meeting us.
She gestured for me to stand opposite her.
"You seem nervous," she observed.
"I am only hoping to give the right impression, my lady."
"A reasonable hope," she said quietly.
She looked at me for a long, measured moment, but her gaze was not harsh. It felt like being examined by someone who cared deeply whether she placed the right person into her child's life.
"Elira Whitesong," Seraphine said her tone shifting to a softer one, "I have dismissed the others because I wished to speak with you alone."
I felt my breath catch, but I kept my posture steady.
"You answered plainly," she continued. "Without trying to shape your words. You did not treat my son as a symbol or a duty. You treated him as a child."
She let that sink in.
"That is why I am choosing you."
I blinked, the words settling slowly.
"You will be his personal maid," Seraphine said. "You will oversee his comfort, his routine, and his early development. You will be at his side more often than even I will."
A quiet weight settled across my shoulders. Serious, but not frightening.
Her expression softened, just a little, in a way I had never seen before.
"I chose you," Seraphine said now warmly, "because you spoke with thought. And because your presence is calm. He will need that. He is a smart, curious, adventurous, and mischievous. Be attentive but do not let him be in danger"
I bowed. "Thank you, my lady. I will serve him with my life."
"I believe you will," she said. "Your first duty begins tomorrow at dawn. Rest well tonight."
"Yes, my lady."
I stepped out of her study, exhaling softly once the door closed behind me. The hall was empty, the last traces of morning light drifting across the floor.
I let myself smile, small but genuine.
I had a new role.
Unexpected.
Important.
And tomorrow, I would meet the infant I was now responsible for.
I hoped I would be enough for him.
And, quietly, I hoped he would accept me too.