"Prince Magnus said to come here."

Sylvan raised an eyebrow. "And you expect me just to believe that?"

Mina crossed her arms defiantly. "He saw His Majesty back there and told me to run. He'll be coming in a few minutes, just you wait."

Sylvan frowned. If she had said she was here to clean, he would be able to tell she was lying, but this could potentially be true. Still, if Magnus was trying to defy the king again in order to protect her, he might not return for more than a few hours if things turned sour.

"Fine," Sylvan relented. He still didn't fully trust her, but he knew to concede to the prince's wishes. "Stay here in the sitting room. There's already a maid there cleaning."

Mina wanted to complain, but this was the best she was going to get, so she kept silent, plopping down in one of the cushioned seats to wait for Magnus to return. As the clock ticked on, she found herself getting antsy, picking at her hair again. What was taking him so long?

Sylvan noticed her unease and made note of it. "Worried about him?"

She couldn't lie even if she wanted to. "I hope I didn't get him into trouble."

"Too late for that," Sylvan commented, leaning against the wall. "You have trouble written all over you."

She frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Sylvan's gaze was steady and cold. "I've been looking after Magnus for almost ten years now, doing whatever I can to keep him out of harm's way. Tell me why the minute you show up, two men end up dead and he gets the worst beating he's had in years."

Mina glared. "How's that my fault? I never asked him to do anything for me."

"But that's how he is," Sylvan stated, his voice gaining his strength. "And you're pushing him to the limit."

"Well, what else would you have me do?"

Sylvan's eyes narrowed. "Stay away. Don't put him in that position in the first place."

"You tell him to stay away. He's the one who's always looking for me." She wasn't entirely sure if that was true, but it seemed like it.

The sound of the door opening cut their conversation short. Magnus entered, his face flushed red, making both Sylvan and Mina wonder what might have caused it. Thankfully, he seemed uninjured as far as they could tell. Sylvan bowed, and Mina hurriedly followed suit, standing and dipping into a messy curtsy.

"Is everything alright?" Sylvan asked.

Magnus nodded. "Yes, just..." He glanced at Mina. "Mina, you can go into my room. I need to talk to Sylvan for a minute."

Mina was still and silent for a moment, a worried frown forming on her face, but eventually, she did as she was told. What could they possibly need to discuss? Was it something the king had said? Maybe she could listen in through the door.

As soon as she entered, all other thoughts flew out the window when she saw Ivy poking through one of the prince's cabinets. At the sound of the door opening, Ivy's head shot up and her eyes widened.

"You," Ivy sneered, slamming the drawer shut.

"You," Mina replied in a similar tone. "What are you doing here?"

Ivy put her hands on her hips. "I'm the prince's assistant."

"Like hell you are. He doesn't have a personal maid."

"Well, I'm still the one who always gets called in."

"Well, he's not here is he?" Mina shot back. "So what do you think you're doing with your hands all up in his stuff?"

"I'm organizing it," Ivy asserted, moving closer. "That's part of my job."

Mina scoffed. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"Are you accusing me of stealing?"

"I could report you," Mina threatened. "I could make sure you never take another step into this room."

Ivy glared. "Oh, so you could take my place, huh? Not a chance."

"Please, I have more dignity than to grovel at the prince's feet like you do."

Ivy raised her hand to slap Mina, but Mina caught her by the wrist, digging her nails into Ivy's skin. If her other hand wasn't injured, she would have socked Ivy in the jaw for good measure.

"You think you can hurt me?" Mina jeered. "Come on, try again."

Ivy struggled to free herself from Mina's grip. "Get your hands off of me!"

Mina tightened her hold. "What? I haven't even drawn blood yet."

Ivy squealed. "Mina!"

*~*~*

"Mina."

"I seem to be hearing that name often lately."

"Might as well get used to it then."

Sylvan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Magnus ran a hand through his hair. "I may have just appointed her as my new personal maid."

Sylvan's eyes narrowed. "How did this happen?"

"I..." Magnus hesitated, feeling embarrassed. "My father caught me talking with her and I told her to go, but I was afraid he'd come after her, so I panicked and just said that. And then he started prodding me and it just got worse and worse..."

"You know that he sees right through you."

"I know, I know. He knows I'd never..." His cheeks heated up again.

Sylvan frowned. "And do you intend to make good on that claim?"

"Which part of it?"

"Her being your new maid."

He tilted his head. "I might already be in too deep now. But I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to it. I'd like the company."

"But her?" Sylvan pushed. "Can she be trusted?"

"She hasn't given me a reason to suspect otherwise. Why, does something about her concern you?"

Sylvan was quiet. "I'd need to watch her more closely. Be on your guard too."

"Mina!"

Both of their heads shot toward the door as the sound of the panicked yelp. Sylvan's hand instinctively flew to his sword hilt.

"Calm down," Magnus ordered sharply. Moving ahead of Sylvan, he threw the doors of his bedroom open. "What happened? What's going on?"

Mina released her grip on Ivy, and they both turned to face the prince. Ivy immediately curtsied before cradling her wrist with her other hand.

"Nothing," Ivy claimed. Mina shot her a look which Ivy did her best to ignore. "I'm just tidying up a few things, Your Highness. Do you need me for anything?"

Magnus shook his head, glancing between the two maids. "No, you can go, thank you. Mina, come with me. I'll take care of that hand."

Ivy obediently curtsied again, but Mina and Magnus both could detect the hint of bitterness in her gaze. As Sylvan escorted Ivy out, he lingered at the door, his eyes fixed on Mina. She stared right back at him, unwilling to back down. Magnus picked up on the tension and stepped between the two of them.

"Come," he murmured, touching Mina's arm gently and gesturing for her to follow him.

Mina had to keep herself from smirking triumphantly. Magnus led her through another door into his personal washroom. Everything from the gigantic tub to the countertops and drawers were white and gold and mirrors stretched the expanse of the walls. A woody aroma with a hint of vanilla permeated the room, a stronger version of the scent she normally detected on Magnus. It was a little untidy, with towels and vials and bottles strewn in random places.

"You can sit up on the counter over by the sink." Magnus said as he headed over to one of the cabinets to search for what he needed.

Mina complied, using her good hand to boost herself up. She wasn't about to let him carry her again.

"Want to tell me what actually happened back there?" he asked, pulling up a chair and taking a seat next to her once he found what he needed.

Mina hesitated for a moment before caving. "She tried to slap me so I stopped her and she decided to act like a baby about it."

"Why did she try to slap you?"

"Because I called her desperate for your attention." She paused. "Which I somehow manage to keep despite not even trying."

He laughed a little at that but opted not to explain himself. Looking at her hand and task ahead of him, Magnus hesitated before removing his white gloves and setting them aside on the counter. They were already a little dirty from touching her boots, but he didn't want to get any blood stains on them.

Now that his bare skin was exposed again, they could see the matching scars crossing the backs of their hands. Silently, he held his hand out to her, and she placed her hand in his. She was always a little self conscious of her rough and calloused hands, especially since Madame Hailen made it a point that it was something undesirable to men at the tea house. But Magnus didn't seem to mind. His hands were soft and warm and somewhat comforting. He paused for a moment, tracing his thumb gently along the white scar line.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," she assured, feeling the heaviness of his gaze.

He nodded. Still not saying a word, he got to work, cleaning away the dried blood surrounding the wound and plucking out the shards of wood with a pair of tweezers. His movements were gentle and precise, and she barely felt any pain. He kept his gaze focused on his task, but it was obvious his mind was drowning in thoughts.

"Is something wrong?" she dared to ask, her voice coming out softer than intended.

He shook his head. "Not exactly."

Once he managed to dislodge all the shards, he held her hand under the faucet to wash it out again. She winced initially at the sting but then relaxed as she got used to it. Standing up, he left her for a moment to retrieve some bandages before returning to her side, still not saying a word.

"What's on your mind?" she tried again, watching as he wrapped up her hand in clean white strips of cloth.

"You're not sensitive to pain, are you?" he answered after a few moments. "You seem...accustomed to it." It was more of a statement than an actual question, and it immediately made her think of all the times she had to grit her teeth and bear the anguish. Ever since she left home, there was never anyone to help her or comfort her in those times.

She shook her head. "This and the scars on my hands are far from the worst I've received." She hesitated. "There's hardly any part of me that isn't marred by at least something."

He looked back at her, a melancholic intensity permeating his gaze. The same was true of himself. His father insisted on keeping his face as pristine and unblemished as possible while the rest of his body was essentially torn apart and stitched back together over and over again. It was so gruesome that even he avoided looking at it himself as much as he could.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. He was still holding her hand, even though it was all patched up already.

She tried to act like it didn't matter, shrugging it off. "It's not all bad. Some men at the tea house thankfully didn't want anything to do with me as soon as they saw it all."

It was true, but she regretted saying it as soon as it left her mouth. She didn't even want to think of the images of herself that would sprout in his mind after hearing that.

But Magnus's focus was elsewhere. He knew she was trying to downplay the trauma, but her comment only made him feel worse. "To hell with all those sorry excuses for men. They couldn't even begin to comprehend anything you've been through." He sighed, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb in a comforting way. "I'm so sorry, Mina. As long as you're with me, I can ensure you'll never have to go back there again."

She nodded, comforted by his words but also fighting back feelings of guilt. "What about you?" she asked softly. "It seems you've built a tolerance for pain too."

He ran a hand through his curly hair. "I don't really have a choice with a father like mine."

Now that his hair was slightly tousled, she could see a faint but visible scar on his temple. She stilled, knowing exactly where that scar came from, and the rush of memories was almost strong enough to make her keel over. Magnus, noticing her gaze, quickly moved his hair to cover the mark.

She blinked, coming back to her senses. "Forgive me."

He looked away. "I got it when I was a child from some village boy. Still hasn't gone away for some reason."

Her mouth went dry as she struggled to find the right words to say. "What happened?"

"I got pegged in the head by a rock."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. I didn't even think it was that bad, but...my father sure did."

A bitter taste formed in her mouth. "I see."

He sighed. "It was all a blur. I couldn't remember much of it, but that's the story I heard from my father and the guards who were there. And ever since, I wasn't allowed out of the castle anymore."

Strands of hair came loose in her hand before she even realized she was pulling at it again. He only vaguely remembered that day, but she couldn't help but wonder why. He seemed like the kind of person who would be traumatized by such an atrocity like she was. Had something more happened to him?

"I know the people are suffering out there," Magnus continued. "but it's easy to forget when I'm enclosed by these walls and can't see it for myself. But you never let me forget, and I need that."

She nodded slowly. That was never her intention, but she couldn't see why his sympathy would be a bad thing. Not that it would matter in the end. All she needed was to get him to notice her and like her, and she had certainly succeeded at that.

He offered her a small smile. The more he thought about her, the more thankful he was that she had come into his life. She was like a breath of fresh air and relief in a suffocating world, and he hoped for once that that feeling would last.

"Mina," he murmured, taking her hand in his again. "I...I would like you to be my personal maid, if that's alright with you."

She felt as if she stopped breathing and had to take a moment to collect herself as his words hung in the air. "Me?"

He nodded. "It's been a while since I had one because it's been so dangerous to keep someone that close to me, but I trust you."

She could not believe what she was hearing. He wanted her? She couldn't have imagined it happening more perfectly. Oh, just wait until the others hear about this, she thought.

"I..." she paused, unable to keep her own personal fears creeping in the more she thought about it. Mina knew she should do whatever it took to get closer to him. That's what she signed up for when she undertook this mission, but she couldn't ignore the rising dread that had formed in her chest. "What would that entail exactly?"

Magnus looked at her confused for a moment before realizing what she meant. "Mina, I swear to you, I'd never use you or anyone like that. I'm not like those men from the tea house. The most you'll do is help me with everyday tasks and keep me company."

Mina felt herself visibly slump in relief, but she didn't care. "Then I'd be delighted to."

He gave her a soft smile, pleased and relieved by her response. "But, I have one condition."

She hesitated, tensing up again slightly as her eyes fixed on him. "Yes?"

"Speak freely and honestly with me, please, and don't hold anything back. I need you to be the one to tell me the hard truths that I need to hear."

She couldn't promise that. But she had to. She bowed her head. "I'm all yours."