•Y/N: Your Name
•L/N: Last Name

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Your POV:
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I awaken with an exhausted groan when the dorm lights are suddenly turned on and the emerald maids call for us to get ready for the day. Ruffling my hair, I sit up before vigorously rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I wish I could've slept just a teensy bit longer, but I know that isn't going to happen, so I get up and retrieve my uniform from the chest at the foot of the bed and undress, no longer fazed by changing in front of the others. After all, we had all bathed together on our first night in the castle, so why bother finding a private place to dress?

'I wonder what today's nightmare task is going to be?' I was tempted to groan again. His majesty is absolutely impossible to please, and he goes out of his way to personally assign me the most impossible and dangerous jobs, expecting it all to be finished by the day's end even if it goes past the set curfew for us maids. He has to be toying with me by this point. The only consistent task has been bathing Weston, which I don't mind, but everything else seemed to be selected at random.

I never outwardly complained, of course. I like the skin on my bones, thank you very much, and I'd rather not risk my parents' lives. Still I wish he would show some slack. I had hoped that after working here for a few weeks, he'd forget I even exist, but sadly, that doesn't seem to be the case. After I'm ready, I head down to the dining hall, eat my breakfast, then line up when called, as usual, however, I was majorly unprepared for my latest assignment.

"Y/N, you have been ordered to wake and bathe the his majesty."

"W-What?!" I exclaim in pure terror. I normally don't comment on the demands of the King, but how could I not be mortified by that type of request? Miss Perkins sputters in response while rereading the task on the paper before clearing her throat and looking at me in pity.

"I... I'm afraid so. He asked of it last night."

'Oh dear.' I feel weak. If I make one wrong move, he's going to kill me and my family. This is the worst request yet. So many things can go wrong. I snap out of it when the older woman gestures to a small group in elegant and light, lavender dresses. The skirt ends just above their feet, while the sleeves meet their elbows, and the fabric on the left side of the skirt is ruffled and parted to reveal a darker shade of purple underneath the light layer. White, floral embroidery lines the shallow neck and the sheer fabric of the sleeves, adding a delicate look to the attire. It was beautiful and of higher quality than most of the other uniforms I've seen.

"Follow those ladies, there. They're his handmaidens. They'll show you what to do." I weakly nod to the woman before walking over to the group. They say nothing about me joining them, but look as though they've been informed of my task when they spare me a small glance.

I take a deep breath to settle my shot nerves and clasp my trembling hands in front of me as we leave the dining hall. Every step brings me closer to his majesty's room and, quite possibly, my doom. I catch the stares of a few other servants as we pass them by. They likely noticed me being the odd one out due to my blue attire, but I do my best not to focus on them. They make me feel like we are heading to our own funerals.

'Is this what these women feel every day? Poor things.. Poor me.' Eventually, we stop in front of his chamber door, which has two men standing guard in shining armor in front of it. They step aside to allow us access to the door as one of the women turn to me. She's a bit chubby with long, blonde hair braided around the back of her head, and she seems a bit younger than me, though, not by much— Perhaps a year or two at most. Her brown eyes soften upon seeing my panicked state and speaks in a gentle voice.

"I know this may seem scary, but if you do things right, it'll be quick. All you have to do is wake and escort him to the bathing room right there, down the hall." She points to where I must go, and I nod my head before she adds a warning, "It may sound simple, but you must be cautious. You must be careful with how you wake him. Call his name and don't stand too close to him. His majesty has a history of night terrors and will attempt to harm you if you are within arms reach."

I gulp and look at the door while rubbing my arms to comfort myself. I nearly jump when one of the older women in the group pats my shoulder with a warm smile meant to ease my nerves and force a smile back, instinctively, before nodding to the first girl to show I'm ready. The blonde grabs the key hanging from her necklace and uses it to unlock the door before holding it open for me. It closes as soon as I walk in, making my heart leap out of my chest, and I gaze up in awe at the beauty of the room. It's breathtaking!

A detailed mural of a blue sky full of puffy, white clouds and depictions of warriors on horseback is painted on the high ceiling, which holds a massive crystal chandelier in the center of it. The navy walls are all intricately designed with lots and lots of gold sculpted to look like embroidery. There is so much that it almost hurts to stare at it, yet it's also very stunning. Furnishing the room is a massive, king-size bed surrounded by a tall, blue canopy of thick, velvet drapes and golden tassels, a round, wooden table with two chairs that have blue and gold, embroidered cushions, and a big mirror built into the wall above the fireplace.

My heart pounds frantically in my chest as I approach the bed, where I find his majesty sleeping in a fetal position beneath a velvety, blue blanket. I step over a puffy, cream comforter on the hardwood floor, which was presumably kicked off by King Noah himself. His face is contorted into a fearful expression as he tosses and turns. I am scared to act, but I must.

'I'm going to die today; I can feel it.' Oh, how badly I want to run away, but if I do that, I'll be dead for sure and so would my mother and father.

'I have to do this for their sake.'

"Y-Your majesty," I call quietly, my voice cracking a bit, but it doesn't wake him up nor cause him to stir, so I clear my throat and say it again, this time, a little louder. "Your majesty." Still, no response, so I try again and again to no avail. I huff in frustration with a frown on my lips as his hands tightly grip the sheets.

'Just call for him, they said.' I sigh worriedly, knowing I'll get in trouble if I take too long and decide that I have no other option but to touch him. This will be risky, very risky. One mistake and I'll find myself without a hand... or a life. My hand trembles as I reach out to touch the sleeping man's shoulder, and my fingers faintly brush against the fabric of his nightshirt when he flinches with a nearly inaudible squeak. The reaction makes me jump back in fear with wide eyes and it only gets worse. He starts to struggle, kicking and flailing under the covers as though the blanket was suffocating him, as tears pour from his sealed eyes, his breathing, erratic. I panic, not knowing what to do and feel terrible for causing this reaction.

"Your majesty, please, wake up. It's morning," I say softly while hesitating to step closer and gently set a hand on his shoulder to shake it lightly. I have to wake him. The King whimpers as though my touch hurt him, and he cries even harder, his body shaking like a leaf. Up until now, I genuinely believed that he had an inability to cry. Silly, I know, but the man is ruthless. Seeing him cry like this actually made me worry, not for myself, but for him.

"Your majesty?" I take my hand off his shoulder to cup his cheek, too concerned to even think of the possible consequences for touching the ruler in such a manner. The feel of his skin is soft and flawless without a bump or mark, absolutely beautiful. Under my touch, he freezes, but continues to breathe heavily as my thumb wipes away the river of tears flowing from his eyes. The rest of my fingers find themselves entangled in his hair, which is slightly damp with sweat due to his intense panic.

The navy strands are slightly knotted and messy, yet they still feel like the finest silk. Steadily, his breathing settles as I gently run my fingers through his hair, which relieves me. A small smile touches my lips when I find this helps and continue petting the King's head until his lashes flutter and part to reveal his reddened, olive eyes glazed with tears. My hand stills when his trembling fingers lace with mine and squeeze lightly. Seems he didn't realize what was going on at first until he met my gaze with knitted brows and a slight squint.

His grip then hardens, practically crushing my hand and nearly cutting off blood flow, causing me to wince in pain. Before I could even blink, I find myself flipped onto the bed with little time to comprehend what happened as his majesty pins me down with a striking glare. His hands now grip both my wrists, squeezing them just as tight. I'm sure there'll be a bruise on them later. My breaths quicken in fear as tears threaten to prick my eyes. I can't move; I'm petrified. I laid a hand on the King. I'm pretty sure that's a crime.

'What's he going to do to me? No doubt, he plans to punish me.' The King's breaths are shallow, and I can't help but notice how his hands are still shaking. I open my mouth to plead for my life, but no sound escapes. His eyes, though set in an intense glare, are filled with fear.

That darkness I've seen in his olive orbs still remains, but it's clouded by many other emotions, specifically tiredness, irritation and fear. His gaze isn't at all murderous. His hands steady and loosen slightly as he sighs and shuts his eyes, his features relaxing as he bends his head down to mine, causing his blue locks to dangle onto my forehead. He stays this way for a moment before positioning himself to lie on top of me, which bewilders me. He isn't too heavy, but it's hardly comfortable having his head on my chest. My face heats up, and I'm sure he can hear my rapid heartbeat.

"Speak a word of this to anyone, and I will kill you. Understand?" He growls out in a hoarse voice.

"Y-Yes, your majesty," I stutter out in a meek voice.

"Good." He gets off me, which I take as a sign to leave the bed, so I do so quickly. I do my best to compose myself as I apologetically bow my head.

"F-Forgive me, your majesty. Your bath is ready."

"Fine." I sigh in relief at the lack of spite in his tone and straighten my neck while doing my best to avoid his stern eyes. "Slippers," he mentions with slight annoyance after a moment of silence.

"R-Right." Looking down, I spot them under the bed, so I get on my knees to grab them, however, I pause when I spot a collection of swords neatly gathered underneath the bed. Unsettled, I stand up quickly and put the cozy, lavender purple slippers onto his majesty's feet before stepping away. Wordlessly, he gets out of bed and follows me to the door. The two guards standing outside follow us down the hall to the bathing room as my heart pounds anxiously in my chest.

I can't help but dread what's to happen next.
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King Noah's POV:
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I send a secretive glance towards the nervous female on my right, who walks with her head down, looking both afraid and embarrassed. I'm sure I gave her a good scare with my little stunt back there, which pleases me some, even if it wasn't planned. A smirk touches my lips, but it falls as I bring a hand to the cheek she had held. There is one thing I find strange, however. I've never once spared anyone's life after they touched me, especially during one of my sleeping fits. The sensation of her calloused fingers still lingers on my flesh. The rough texture likely came from all the work I've given her, though, I do recall her having similar hands when she was first brought to me. That's what happens when you work on a farm, I suppose.

'I could've killed her. That was my chance; she was right under me. I have good reason to too. I'm sure she had been warned not to touch me.' I have the temptation to at least punish her for the action, perhaps the removal of her hand or fingers, but I suppose I can hold off on that for now. It's too early for bloodshed, and I badly need a bath, so that's my first concern. I lower my hand back to my side as the farm girl opens the door to the bathing room and steps aside to let me in first.

'You're a strange girl, Miss L/N,' I think to myself as I step past her into the room, sparing her a glance before looking at my handmaidens, who were waiting on me. The door shuts behind my toy, leaving my guards to stand watch in the hall. I find myself more intrigued with this girl every day.

'Maybe I didn't kill her because I desire a little more playtime? She has been rather fun to play with.' I withhold a chuckle as I watch her shuffling nervously near the door.

'Let's see how well you do with this task, farm girl.'
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Your POV:
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I keep my gaze off his highness and, instead, focus on my new surroundings after shutting the bathroom door. It looks just as elaborate as his bedroom, though, somewhat smaller. White and beige, marble tile makes the floor, matching the columns surrounding a deep, oval-shaped bathtub, and the walls. To the right of the door is a wide mirror, which hangs above low, white cabinets with golden handles and white, ceramic wash basins. A small, crystal chandelier hangs above the tub to light the room, and the ceiling holds a painted mural of wispy, white clouds in a pastel blue sky. Off to the side is a rack of towels, a cart of soaps and other products, and a rectangular, blue cushioned seat.

Standing in the room are the five lavender maids, and they all bow their heads when they see the King had arrived before giving their greeting.

"Good morning, your majesty," they say in unison, to which he hums dismissively before raising his arms out to the side. The women approach and start to undress him, which makes my face flush and my eyes dart away. I have never seen a man's body before, so this entire situation is just uncomfortable.

'Does he do nothing for himself?' Though my gaze is averted, I can still feel his majesty's olive eyes pinned to my shy form. I only look up after hearing the sound of sloshing water and find the King settled in the tub of scented water. His back faces me, and I could see his built shoulders rise and fall with each breath. I'm thankful his eyes are no longer on me and that I can't see anything undesirable from where I stand. I turn my attention to one of the older maids, who hand me a container full of a mint-colored cream, and give her a clueless look.

"Put a thin layer of it on his face," she explains in a hushed voice. I nod my head to show I understand, so she walks away as the King releases a small groan of discomfort.

"The bath is cold," he mutters in annoyance while meeting the eyes of the woman who had given me the cream.

"My apologizes, your majesty. You came later than usual today," she responds nervously, causing his eyes to narrow.

"Are you saying it's my fault?" He snarls, making the handmaiden jump in fear.

"A-Absolutely not, sir!" He turns his gaze away from her to look at me and, by a bit, his glare slackens, although, it was hardly noticeable. On instinct, I look away, but from the corner of my eye, I did catch a smirk growing on his lips.

"Clearly, it is her who is at fault." At that, the other maids look my way, which made me panic internally. "She didn't wake me soon enough." There was a moment of tense silence in the room, like they were expecting him to call his guards in to decapitate me then and there, but nothing happened. We don't dally any further and get right to work.

While one woman pours hot water into his bath, I step closer to the King and stand behind him. The whole while, his eyes stay on me as he tilts his head back against the rim of the tub. I had no choice, but to meet his olive orbs, but thankfully, he seems more focused on his thoughts than me. Being delicate, I scoop out a small portion of the cream before bringing my trembling fingers to his face. I'm still very shaken about the events that happened in the bedroom, but at least, he seems calm now.

His eyelids shut as he flinches, making me think that I did something wrong, but he relaxes a moment later, much to my relief. I lightly massage his face, tracing over all his features, aside from his eyes and lips, and when I'm done, I step back to allow one of the others to dampen his hair and brush out the knots. Once it's straightened out, she secures the navy strands in curlers.

'So, it's not naturally wavy.' King Noah rubs his arms with his wet hands before resting his elbows on the rim of the tub. A woman stands at each hand to file his fingernails, while another throws his nightclothes into a hamper to wash later before heating the towels and readying his robe. The blonde, who let me into the King's room, left, but came back with a pile of morning clothes for him. My face reddens when my eyes accidentally drift downward, but thankfully, the water has plenty of bubbles to hide his... Well, his... You know what I mean.

Other than the suds, the bath is filled with a few lavender petals and mint leaves, which adds a fresh fragrance to the liquid. I quickly look away and walk over to the sink to wash the cream off my