After Elias left, Maya lingered in her room for a while, replaying the softness of his kiss and the way he looked at her as if nothing else in the world mattered. A smile still curved her lips as she finally rose, deciding to help prepare dinner.

Downstairs, the kitchen was alive with quiet movement. The maids worked in practiced rhythm slicing, stirring, carrying dishes back and forth. Maya tied on an apron, insisting on helping despite their protests. “I want to do this,” she said with a grin, taking the bowl of vegetables and working side by side with them.

It felt different being here not just as a...