Lina

The water is warm against my fingers, a small comfort after a long day. I let the suds swirl down the drain, watching the faint shimmer of candlelight dance on the surface. The kitchens are quiet now—just the soft hum of the night beyond the walls and the occasional creak from the old beams above. I actually don’t mind the stillness. It’s the one time I can think.

I set another plate on the rack to dry and glance at the clock. Lady Raya’s late-night snack is almost ready—just a drizzle of sauce and a few honeyed fruits left to plate.

She’d been so grateful earlier when I helped...