Chapter Text
When you have a sister such as Ariana de Secramise,people tend to ignore the other princes, like a gem to its shadow. Bavilo was no exception to that saying, having always been overshadowed by the princess and her five “exotic” (her words, not his) gems. It’s frustrating, you know? When your mother beats you, your father can hardly bat an eye at you and even scolds you for trying to object against the (obviously) favored sister. Not to mention his only blood related siblings think of him as an idiot.
Any prince would’ve cracked under the pressure. Unfortunately, Bavilo de Secramise did. Oftentimes, he found solace under the silk sheets, sobbing to himself when his mother was less than kind (everyday, really.) or zoning out in the middle of training, only for his instructor to hit him straight on the side, scolding him later for his lack of attention.
At this point, death’s embrace would warm him up from the icy stares his own blood gave him.
_____
“Mother?—“
“The butler assigned to you has been fired due to personal reasons.”
When Benela entered the room, Bavilo had expected a wine bottle to be thrown right after or even a verbal beating. But no, just something about one of the staff leaving (probably to be part of his sister's entourage, no doubt. But that’s just his insecurity speaking.) he, who had just woken up, gets off from bed, adjusting his pajamas to look presentable to his red clothed mother.
“For now, I am assigning you a new maid. You will be in charge of guiding her and straightening her up.”
“Let’s hope that’s one thing you do differently.” Is uttered under her lips, but the prince ignores that bit. As he always does. With a snap of her finger a maid enters. This one is different, however, donning a long dark pinafore dress , a purple jewel tied on a bolo tie with two black ribbons.
Eurgh…just the term of jewels makes him want to gag.
Well, he reasons, maybe his mother gave her a different choice of clothes so that he can distinguish her from the rest. The maids gaze is cast downward, her lashes covering her eyes. She doesn’t peep a word and Benela continues.
“I will be attending an event, so I will not be here to supervise any of you. I shall return before dinner.”
Before Bavilo can ask for the maids name, his mother has already left, leaving him with the new girl. With a deep breath, he’s about to greet himself when a gloved hand is suddenly thrusted forward to him. To no one’s surprise, it’s the maids, her gaze now firmly fixed on him. That meek expression of hers is now exchanged with..how does he explain it ……
Think of Nell Phantom’s resting bitch face, but the eyes don’t have any cold or killing intent behind it. Yeah! Something like that.
“Good morning, your highness. My name is Maristelle Frazier.” She speaks so firmly, too. Not to say the other maids don’t speak the same, but it’s the way she holds herself with some sort of confidence. If he’s being for real, he sort of expected his mother to have “whipped her into shape” before she brought this one here. He stares at her hand for a moment longer before snapping out of his daze. Right. Guidance.
It’s too early for him to be acting, honestly.
“You bow to your prince, miss. We are not equals.” He scoffs, looking at her hand with his eyes narrowed and mouth formed downwards. “Maristelle” looks at his expression, blinks, nods her head. If Bavilo thought she was about to apologize and retract her hand, he was dead wrong when said hand reaches for the ones on his side and shakes it.
“You —!” Her hand feels cold. So cold. It’s not even snowing yet how can a hand be this chilly?
“We may not be equals, but I’d prefer we treat each other with the same level of respect.”
“Huh?!” He laughs,yanking his hand off hers, dusting it on the side of his pajamas. “Us? Equals? Don’t make me laugh and remember where your status lies compared to mine.”
Maristelle blinks (she’s blinking too much, methinks) “Your highness, shouldn’t we discuss breakfast rather than my social ranking?” She dusts her hands together and turns around, walking to the double doors she believes is the bathroom. Her assumptions are correct when the doors open and reveal a lavish , gold lined bathroom with a large tub and an even larger cabinet full of bottles. To Bavilo, it’s fit for a prince, for Maristelle, it’s going to be hell cleaning up.
“I am a maid, yes and my purpose is to clean and perform various other tasks. But,” as she walks in to open the tub’s faucet, she points a finger at him.
“Your well being is also my concern. Therefore…”
_________
“You didn’t attend breakfast this morning, Prince Bavilo. Are you alright?”
Maristelle had insisted on taking Bavilo to a random garden pavilion to have breakfast, where she brought him different kinds of food. He did call her out and demanded he be eaten inside, but after a brief flash of his fathers angry gaze a few dinners prior made him think against it. Besides that, the food was actually good. He even got to eat something new (shakshuka, she called it.) and spent the next one and a half hour eating and contemplating. (If you thought he was going to talk to her, then you’re wrong.)
After said hour was done, he was about to head to the library when he’s stopped by none other than his father’s first rose and the empress, Roserice. Which led to the current situation now,
“Greetings, your majesty.” He bows. “I am alright. My maid simply arranged a different location for me to dine.”
“Is that so?” He stands up straight again when the Empress begins walking past him and towards Maristelle, whose body is still craned down. “You may stand back up.” And she does.
Roserice notices many things about the maid. For one, it’s the pinafore dress. Compared to the sky blue the maids wear, hers is dark, she wears a chandelier earring to her right ear, designed to look like a sword and her eyes. It’s just…pure darkness. Void of any color passing through it — hell — Roserice can barely see her own face in it. In short: she isn’t following dress protocol.
Then again, this might just be one of Benela’s tactics to show that she’s not the only person who can do as she wishes in these halls by forcing the maid in this getup.
“Name?”
“Maristelle, your majesty.”
“Well, Maristelle.” She places a hand on the maids shoulder. “We have certain rules to follow and one of them is that every member of the royal line should attend a family meal unless the prince or princess is sick.But, since you are new, I will see past this transgression. Are we clear?”
…
It takes Maristelle a few more seconds before she curtsies. “Yes, your majesty.”
After a few back and forth conversations between Prince Bavilo and the Empress, she finally leaves along with her line of maids following behind. Bavilo sighs, running a hand through his silver hair. He just had breakfast and now he feels like having another. He turns his head to Maristelle, who still stands with her hands clasped. Upon noticing the rose colored eyes on her, she tilts her head.
“How may I help you, your highness?”
“N-No.” He clears his throat. “Nothing. I just uh…are you ok? The empress always exudes an aura that scares most.”
“I’m fine, no need to worry.” She goes to his side, pulling out a notepad from the pocket of her apron. Prior to meeting the prince, Benela had given her this notepad, being told that all his schedules and tasks are in it. “We must focus on your duties, today. Which is….” When flipping to the first page, she freezes.
- have breakfast.
- Reading
- Train with the captain of the guards
- Tea time with Kamil (the words ‘his brother’ is written in scarlet ink)
- Have dinner
- Sleep
“…” this is just a sad schedule to read. And looking at Bavilo, she can understand why the maids whisper how miserable he looks. She feels bad for him and yet, her hand twitches, she can’t do anything. Not right now. But maybe soon. Maristelle clears her thoughts back. Right. Reading. The prince needs to read.
“Come, your highness. Your mothers schedule for you states that you should head to the library and read.”
___________
When the lights go out for the prince, Maristelle shuts the door quietly behind her.
The day and afternoon was mundane. After reading time, she watched the prince train and pathetically getting his ass whooped and scolded by the guard. Something about how ‘The princess has better form than you’, Maristelle doesn’t remember. Next was tea time with this ‘Kamil’ . He did not look like his mother nor the king. Made her wonder if an affair went on but those thoughts are reserved for her head. She remained in line with the other present maids at the time, watching the two princes converse.
And lastly, was dinner. The long awaited dinner. The topic of her attire naturally came up because the Empress brought it up to which she had to explain herself, saying that she just got here and that Lady Benela had not gifted her with the uniform (she can’t really say she hated the color lest she had a death wish) to which the aforementioned red lady actually sided with her. Something something, she can keep that dress, something something, it helps Bavilo distinguish her from the other maids, period.
She swears, can’t these royals just speak simply?
When dinner was over, she prepared the prince a hot bath and waited til he was finished. Which leads to now, where Maristelle exits the now sleeping prince’s chambers. She passes by the maids who are killing the lights and sweeping the floor, occasionally greeting them in hushed tones until she reaches the staff rooms. When she finds her room, she strips the apron off her, the top layers of her dress until she’s left with a white dress.
Pulling back the chair, she sits down, stretching her arms. She’s so tired, so fatigued. But one task still remains that she must finish. She produces a sheet of paper , a quill which she uses to dip into the ink.
Dear Seere,
The first day of the job was ok. I still do not understand why you would make me a maid of all jobs. For one, I am offended. Then again, I will never quite understand the thoughts that go through your head. It’s eleven from where I am and by the time you receive this, you might just be finishing your third helping of tea.
Today has been boring. Perhaps I’m still acclimating to this new environment but even the ticking of the clock is more entertaining than watching the prince all day. I was confronted about my uniform and luckily, my employer allowed me to keep it but I must remove the gem on my bolo tie and my earring. says I’m standing out too much. I suppose that’s fair.
I am unsure of what to do with Prince Bavilo. He’s like an untrained swan. His mothers schedule isn’t helping either. It’s just sad. But I won’t do anything about it until I get your approval. I shall close this letter by saying that whatever you have planned, it better be worth sealing my powers for this. Good night.
— Maristelle
When she signs off her name, the paper quickly bursts into purple flames until nothing is left. The letter is sent and finally, she can rest.