Arabella

I woke up to the sound of movement—soft footsteps padded across the floor. My eyelids fluttered open as I struggled to adjust to the lighting in the room.

My body was still heavy with sleep, my mind sluggish as I blinked against the morning light filtering through the sheer curtains.

Before I could fully register what was happening around me, maids began pouring into the room. They moved in perfect sync, led by an older woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.

Carts were pushed in, one overflowing with luxurious new clothes, another carrying a silver tray piled high with breakfast, and a third stocked with delicate glass...