MasukBy midday, Jeremy had learned three important things about Evercrest Castle.
First, the castle was even larger on the inside. Second, servants apparently travelled faster than horses. And third, gossip moved faster than both.
"The king coughed blood again last night."
Jeremy nearly dropped the basket of linens he was carrying.
The words came from a maid named Lara, who had spent the last hour guiding him through the servants' wing while simultaneously sharing every rumour she'd collected over the past week.
"Lara," another servant sighed. "You can't possibly know that."
"I absolutely know that."
"You heard it from someone who heard it from someone who heard it from someone."
"Which still counts."
Jeremy hid a smile.
The servants' hall buzzed with life around them. Footmen rushed in and out carrying polished silver trays while cooks shouted instructions from nearby kitchens. Somewhere deeper within the castle, bells rang softly.
Everything felt like organized chaos. And somehow, everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Except Jeremy.
"You'll get used to it," Lara said, noticing his expression.
"I hope so."
"You will."
Jeremy wasn't convinced. He had spent most of the morning getting lost. Twice. Possibly three times.
The castle seemed determined to rearrange itself whenever he wasn't paying attention. Corridors branched endlessly into other corridors. Staircases appeared where he least expected them. Entire wings seemed large enough to qualify as villages.
Back home, he'd known every road within miles. Here, he could barely find his own room. The thought made him unexpectedly homesick.
For a moment, images of his father surfaced in his mind.
Thomas Mercer sitting beside the fire.
Thomas Mercer teaching him how to polish silver.
Thomas Mercer laughing after long days of work.
He lowered his gaze as a familiar ache returned. Even surrounded by hundreds of people, grief still had a way of making a person feel alone.
"Hey." Lara nudged his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Jeremy offered a small smile. "Yeah."
She didn't look entirely convinced but thankfully let the matter drop.
A moment later, another bell echoed through the castle.
The reaction was immediate. Every servant in the corridor seemed to straighten. Conversations died. Footsteps quickened.
Jeremy blinked. "What happened?"
Lara's eyes widened. "You don't know?"
"Know what?"
"The future queen is arriving."
Jeremy frowned. "The future queen?"
"The prince's betrothed."
Excitement instantly spread through the hallway. Several maids abandoned all attempts to appear professional. Others rushed towards nearby windows. Even the older servants looked curious.
Jeremy found himself swept along with the crowd before he could protest.
The corridor opened onto a wide balcony overlooking the main courtyard. Below, dozens of royal guards stood in formation. Sunlight glimmered across polished armour. Noble banners danced in the breeze. And at the centre of it all waited a magnificent carriage trimmed with gold.
The doors opened. A woman stepped out.
For a brief moment, the entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath. Jeremy finally understood why.
Lady Elaine Rosamund Valcourt moved with effortless grace, as though she'd been born knowing the world was watching her. Her gown shimmered like liquid pearl under the afternoon sun. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves while delicate jewels sparkled among the strands.
Beautiful felt insufficient.
She looked like she belonged in one of the paintings decorating the castle walls. But it wasn't merely her appearance that drew attention. It was the confidence. The certainty. The way people instinctively stepped aside when she approached.
Jeremy had never witnessed anything quite like it.
"That's Lady Elaine?"
Lara nodded enthusiastically. "They've been promised to each other since childhood."
Jeremy looked down into the courtyard.
Elaine smiled at the nobles greeting her. The expression was warm. Perfect. Practiced. For some reason, it reminded him of polished glass. Beautiful, yet impossible to see through.
Trumpets sounded. Heads turned. And a second figure emerged from the palace entrance.
Prince Kelvin.
Even from a distance, the effect was immediate. The crowd straightened. Nobles bowed. Servants whispered excitedly. Meanwhile, Jeremy found himself watching as Kelvin descended the marble staircase.
The prince looked every bit the future king. His dark green coat was embroidered with gold thread while sunlight caught against the Evercrest crest upon his chest. Nothing about him resembled the man who had laughed with Jeremy in the corridor that morning. That version seemed hidden away, reserved for private moments.
The realization surprised him.
Below, Elaine reached the bottom of the staircase.
Kelvin offered his hand.
She accepted it.
The courtyard erupted into applause.
The future king and future queen. Together, they looked exactly as they should. Like a painting come to life. Like a story already written.
Yet Jeremy noticed something strange. Kelvin smiled. But the smile never quite reached his eyes. The observation lingered long after the couple disappeared into the palace.
"Imagine becoming queen." Lara sighed dreamily.
Jeremy chuckled. "I'm having enough trouble becoming a servant."
That earned a laugh from several nearby maids.
Then the crowd slowly dispersed. Work resumed. Life continued. Still, something about the scene remained lodged in Jeremy's thoughts. Not Elaine. Not the applause. Not even the grandeur of it all.
It was Kelvin's expression. A brief glimpse of something eclipsed behind his smile. A flicker of weariness perhaps. Or loneliness.
Jeremy wasn't sure. And it wasn't his business anyway. He was a servant. The prince was heir to the throne. Their worlds couldn't have been further apart.
By evening, Jeremy had almost convinced himself to stop thinking about it.
Almost.
*
Far above the servants' wing, another young man sat alone in a private study overlooking the western gardens. Golden light streamed through the windows as sunset painted the kingdom in shades of amber and rose. The view was magnificent, but he barely noticed.
Several council documents lay open before him, but Kelvin ignored every one of them.
His mother's voice still echoed from earlier. The wedding. The succession. The king's worsening condition. Responsibility. Duty. Expectations.
Those words followed him everywhere these days.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Enter."
A servant stepped inside and bowed. "Your Highness, the council meeting will begin in fifteen minutes."
Kelvin nodded.
The servant bowed again and departed.
Silence returned.
He rubbed a hand across his face. Then, unexpectedly, another memory surfaced. A young servant surrounded by fallen books. A nervous apology. An honest smile. The image caught him off guard.
Most conversations in the palace felt calculated. Measured. Carefully rehearsed. But the new servant hadn't treated him like a prince. He'd treated him like a person.
The thought lingered longer than it should have. Eventually, Kelvin pushed himself to his feet. There were more important matters demanding his attention. A kingdom to inherit. A father who was dying. A wedding rapidly approaching. The servant would likely fade into memory soon enough.
Outside, dusk settled over Evercrest Castle. Lanterns flickered to life along winding paths and marble courtyards.
Far below the royal chambers, Jeremy Mercer gazed through his window at a kingdom glowing beneath the stars. Far above him, Prince Kelvin Evercrest prepared for another evening of duty.
Neither realized they were already thinking about each other. And neither understood how dangerous that would eventually become.
Night fell heavily over Evercrest Castle. The hunt ended early. Rumours spread even faster than the royal procession returned. An unfortunate riding accident, the court officially declared. Few seemed entirely convinced.Jeremy sat carefully upon the edge of a narrow bed inside the servants' quarters while Martha fussed angrily over his injuries."You could've broken your neck.""I didn't.""Wonderful. Shall we celebrate your survival by throwing you from another cliff tomorrow?"Jeremy winced as she tightened a bandage.Across the room, Oliver looked horrified enough for everyone. "You saved the prince."Jeremy groaned softly. "Please stop saying it like that.""But you did.""And now the entire castle knows." That was the problem.Long after Martha and Oliver finally left, Jeremy remained awake. Moonlight spilled faintly across the room. His shoulder throbbed relentlessly. Sleep felt impossible. Then came a soft knock at the door.Jeremy frowned. "At this hour?"Slowly, he crossed t
The kingdom of Aragon glittered with the autumn sunlight. Golden fields stretched beyond the palace roads while banners bearing noble crests fluttered proudly in the wind.The royal procession wound through the countryside in dazzling splendour – mounted knights, noble families, decorated carriages, and royal guards moving together towards the highlands where the annual Crown Hunt would take place.To the people lining the roads, it looked magnificent. To Kelvin, it felt exhausting. Another public appearance. Another day spent around watchful eyes. Another performance.The prince sat tall upon his black stallion as nobles rode beside him exchanging political conversation disguised as courtesy.King Alistair's illness had changed everything. Now every smile carried calculation. Every alliance mattered more. Every noble house watched the throne carefully. Kelvin had begun noticing it everywhere. Especially among House Ravaryn.Lord Cedric Ravaryn rode several paces ahead, speaking polit
The following morning felt strangely fragile. As though something invisible had shifted during the night.Jeremy noticed it. Perhaps because he had barely slept.Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the warmth of Kelvin's hand in his own. The memory lingered with startling clarity – the moonlight across the gardens, the exhaustion in the prince's voice, the quiet intimacy of that moment beneath the stars. Nothing improper had happened. Nothing romantic. And yet Jeremy could not stop thinking about it.Which, unfortunately, was becoming a serious problem."You've smiled at absolutely nothing three times."Jeremy nearly dropped the tray in his hands.Oliver leaned comfortably against the kitchen doorway, looking entirely too pleased with himself."I have not.""You just did it again.""I think you're imagining things.""I think," Oliver said smugly, "that you look suspiciously happy for someone polishing serving trays before sunrise."Jeremy rolled his eyes and returned to work.
Night fell. The castle quieted. Lanterns illuminated corridors while moonlight spilled through tall windows.Jeremy had just finished helping Martha transport supplies to the kitchens when hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway.A royal messenger appeared. Pale. Breathless. Anxious.The man's gaze swept across the corridor. Searching. When he spotted the prince approaching from the opposite direction, relief flooded his features."Your Highness."Something in the messenger's voice made Jeremy freeze. Kelvin immediately noticed it too.He stopped. "What happened?"The messenger struggled to catch his breath.Around them, conversations died. Servants fell silent. The entire corridor seemed to hold its breath.Finally, the messenger lowered his eyes. "The king is asking for you."A terrible feeling settled in Jeremy's stomach.Kelvin's expression changed instantly. "What happened?"The messenger swallowed. Then spoke the words everyone had been dreading. "He says there isn't much t
"Have I interrupted something?" The voice cut through the silence like a pebble breaking the surface of still water.Jeremy's heart nearly stopped. Beside him, Kelvin straightened so abruptly that it would have been amusing under different circumstances. Then the figure stepped forward. Moonlight spilled across her features.Beatrice Holloway. The castle scribe. A stack of books rested comfortably in her arms.For several seconds, nobody uttered a word.Beatrice glanced from Jeremy to Kelvin. Then back again. One eyebrow rose. "Oh."Jeremy felt heat flood his face."Oh?" Kelvin repeated.The scribe looked entirely unapologetic. "I wasn't aware the eastern balcony had become so popular recently.""It hasn't," Jeremy said quickly."Of course." The amusement in her voice only made things worse. She shifted the books slightly. "I merely came to retrieve a manuscript from the observatory." Her gaze flickered between them again. "I shall leave you both to… whatever this is.""There is no 'w
The first person Jeremy befriended at Evercrest Castle was a stable boy named Oliver Finch."You're holding that broom incorrectly."Jeremy paused mid-sweep. Slowly, he looked up.The boy standing before him appeared roughly his age. Freckles dusted his face, his sandy hair looked permanently untidy, and there was enough confidence in his posture to suggest he had never doubted himself for a single day.Jeremy glanced at the broom. Then back at him. "There is a correct way to hold a broom?""There absolutely is." Oliver nodded gravely.Jeremy burst out laughing. A moment later, Oliver joined him. And that was the beginning.Over the following days, Jeremy met more people throughout the castle. There was Lara, who remained the undisputed queen of gossip. Martha, the elderly head cook whose intimidating stare concealed a surprisingly kind heart. Edwin Pike, a young footman obsessed with tales of knights and battles. And Beatrice Holloway, one of the castle scribes whose patience seemed







