The next day, Catherine woke up tense. She could barely sleep last night. She remembered the note, and her throat tightened. The rumors were now venturing into threats.

Elizabeth had asked what was in the envelope, but she had shrugged, lying that it was one of the maids playing a prank on her. She didn't want her mother to feel more worried about her than she already was.

Could it actually be a prank? She thought to herself as she entered the palace to start her shift. Every glance at her seemed loaded. Could it be her? Could it be him? Catherine was starting to become paranoid.

The palace itself felt changed. There was a new curfew in place, posted quietly on the wooden notice boards along the hallway in the staff quarters. New schedules slipped into kitchen tables, instructions whispered by supervisors.

Each message was the same: Staff were to avoid royal corridors after dark, keep interactions brief, and "hold themselves to the highest standards." There had been no grand announcement, only the slow, suffocating tightening of a net she hadn't realized she was caught in.

Catherine tried to shake off her paranoia as she continued with her day. But as soon as she walked into the staff dining hall, she caught flashes of conversation:

"Something's brewing," muttered a young footman to his friend.

"There was a maid found near the prince's wing one night" a senior butler whispered to two royal advisors, their heads close.

Catherine ducked her head, hoping she wouldn't draw their attention. She hurried to the kitchen, where Isla was already bustling about, stacking trays beside the great stone washbasin.

Isla saw her fear. "Ignore them," she said quietly, stepping in when Mrs. Harrow barked an order at Catherine. Isla took on the brunt of the task, arranging the trays with precision, blocking the worst of the barbs. Catherine's shoulders sagged with relief.

Isla knew how Catherine felt, as she herself had searched for warmth in a cold place. Before coming to work in the palace, her father's excessive drinking had broken up his marriage, and it had destroyed her mother. She never felt love in her home. She remembered the sting of shame from being blamed for a missing coin and the general feeling of always wanting to be a part of something.

When she met Catherine, she understood that pain and quickly defended her against the other maids. Catherine had also vouched for her in one particular incident. "If you accuse Isla, you accuse me too." ,and since then, Isla's loyalty was forged, vowing to always protect her.

No one saw the flash in Isla's eyes or the fear coiled tight inside her. She said nothing more, just continued working while keeping Catherine's panic at bay.

As the afternoon light slanted through high windows, Catherine passed through a quiet corridor, still feeling on edge. She saw Prince George coming the other way towards her. He looked tired, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, his hands jammed awkwardly in his pockets.

She hadn't seen him for days. Obviously, by choice, because she still didn't know how to act around him. So, she tried to avoid him, but there was nowhere to hide this time. It was no use, he'd already seen her.

"Catherine," he said, voice softer than she expected, "can we talk?"

She nodded and followed him into a small alcove out of sight.

He hesitated, choosing his words. "Did something really happen that night between us? I... I've tried to piece it together, but I can't. I have this feeling something's changed between us because I think you've been avoiding me. Please, I need the truth."

Catherine's breath hitched. She tried to come up with something to say. "Umm... I... I was with you. You... you were drunk, so I helped you to your room. That's all. Nothing more."

He looked at her, searching for any sign of lies. And for a moment, something filled the space between them.

The first time he met Catherine, she had just arrived at the Palace with her mother. She was this 6-year old girl in the gardens beside the palace, clutching a wildflower he'd picked up for her. His face was rosy with a shy smile. He did like her. Back then, the world felt simpler.

"Catherine..." he whispered, reaching for her hand, but just then, footsteps echoed as Mr. Alden, the King's junior royal secretary, appeared around the corner. He paused, eyeing them both with shrewd calculation.

"Your Highness, you're needed at the library," he said. His tone was polite but held an edge, a hint that nothing in this palace went unnoticed.

George turned and left, casting Catherine one last, uncertain look as he disappeared.

She waited a moment, trying to steady her heart beating erratically, before she left as well.

During an afternoon tea training, Catherine fumbled a tray, the cups rattling, nearly falling. Maids gasped. Mrs. Harrow's eyes narrowed in on her, lips pressed in a thin line.

Later, Mrs. Harrow cornered Catherine in a stone-lined corridor.

"Appearances matter," she said, her voice low. "You may think you're invisible, but you're not. Staff position is earned with discretion. If I find you in the wrong place again, things will change for you... and your mother."

Isla walked in just in time to hear the threat, placing herself firmly at Catherine's side. "With all due respect, Mrs. Harrow, Catherine's only ever put the palace first. We all make mistakes. If you want someone to help with extra work, I'll do it."

Mrs. Harrow glared at them, huffed, and walked away.

- - -

As dusk began to settle, Elizabeth was called into the administrative offices. A senior supervisor greeted her, words formal but heavy.

"Mrs. Elizabeth, I'm sure you've heard the rumors about your daughter. We do not take things like that lightly, and we require absolute transparency. Any staff caught up in a scandal will be dealt with accordingly. I trust your daughter is aware of the risks."

Elizabeth bristled with anger, even though she was feeling a bit scared on the inside. "My Catherine has never brought shame to the palace. And she never will."

The supervisor nodded and dismissed her, but Elizabeth could not forget the chill in their warning. She's been here before, and she will not allow her daughter to go through the same thing she did.

She returned to their quarters shaken, hoping to talk to her daughter about the situation. But as soon as she walked in, she saw Catherine doubled over by the washstand, retching violently.

"Catherine?" Elizabeth rushed to her side, her heart in her throat. "Are you alright?"

Catherine wiped her mouth, her eyes tired. "I don't know, ma. I just feel sick."

Slowly, Elizabeth pieced everything that's been happening in the last few days together: the rumors, Catherine's odd behavior recently, and now, the nausea.

If what she was thinking was true, then nothing would ever be the same.

Catherine sat on the edge of her small bed, her knees curled tightly to her chest. Her mother hovered nearby, just stunned in silence.

With her arms folded, she waited for an explanation from her daughter. She didn't want to assume; she wanted to hear it directly from Catherine's mouth.

"That night I came back late, you asked where I was, and I lied that I was with Isla. But, I was with... with Prince George. He was drunk, barely awake, so I... I helped him to his room, and I..."

Tears streaked down her face as she continued. "Ma, I didn't plan for it to happen, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I was so ashamed. I thought I'd let you down. I didn't know what else to do. And then, the rumors started and I got really scared..."

Elizabeth listened, her face tense, the years of palace service etched into every line. She brushed a strand of hair behind Catherine's ear.

"I wish I could tell you what to do, but I know what it means to be talked about in whispers," Elizabeth said quietly. "When we first came here, I trusted the wrong person and paid for it. I was accused of sleeping with one of the top senior royals. There were investigations going on, I had a meeting with the Queen, and that's how the rumors started. I nearly lost this job, but I knew you had a better future here, and so I stayed and fought for our place here."

Catherine squeezed her mother's hand. "Ma, I didn't know... but what if I'm the reason we lose it now?"

"We don't know yet. All we can do is be careful. We keep our heads down and hide what must be hidden for as long as possible."

Catherine nodded. As she embraced her mother, she felt a bit of comfort and relief, like a weight had been lifted up her shoulders.

- - -

The next day, it was announced that there would be a gala coming up in the next three days. Preparations began almost immediately, turning the palace into a restless hive. Velvet banners replaced the usual silks, jewel-bright flowers arrangement lined the entry halls. Staff ran from room to room, nerves fraying in the rush.

Catherine kept her head down, careful as she laid crystal amid laughter and complaint. Mrs. Harrow checked every table, every chandelier, clucking over the smallest errors.

"No fingerprints," she barked. "No talking, no loitering. Catherine, watch yourself near the royal wings. And Janet, go to the provisions room and get the beads."

Isla winked at Catherine and mouthed, "She's just scared of real royalty," and the girls giggled as they continued with their tasks.

In the staff room, Catherine overheard the butlers debating. "I hear that one of the daughters of the King of Drakonhelm will be coming with them. Do you think they might do matchmaking with George?"

A footman shrugged. "Well, if the alliance goes through, there just might be wedding bells in the future."

Catherine tried to ignore them, but their words stung in her.

- - -

The day of the gala arrived, and the palace had never looked so beautiful. The great hall gleamed beneath the golden maps, swirling with colors. Everyone looked glamorous in their gowns, each laugh mingling with the notes of a chamber orchestra. Outside, the city lights of Eldoria flickered. It felt like another world. King Arthur, Queen Charlotte, and Prince George stood together, regal and composed as they greeted the guests.

Then, the herald blew a trumpet, signaling the arrival of another guest. "Announcing their Majesties, the King and Queen of Drakonhelm, King Edward and Queen Margaret, along with their daughter, Princess Katarina of Drakonhelm."

Everyone turned to look at them as they walked down the stairs: King Edward, tall and stern, offered smiles that never quite reached his eyes. Queen Margaret was luminous, but her gaze assessed everything.

Katarina, introduced for all to see, wore pale gold trimmed with pearls, her diamond earrings sparkling in the lights. She smiled and curtised as her parents introduced her to the royal family of Eldoria.

When she was introduced formally to George, the tension was palpable. George bowed politely, then offered his arm for the ceremonial dance. Katarina accepted, her grip warm, her smile perfectly charming.

Catherine, pouring wine at the edge of the festivities, caught snippets of their conversation as the music played.

"You remembered my name. That's more than most do after a hunt." Katarina's voice teased.

George smiled faintly. "They always say that whatever happens at Falconry isn't easily forgotten."

As they danced amid courtiers, Catherine felt the old ache pulse deeper, and she ducked away before she heard more.

Over at the royal dais, King Arthur and King Edward shared private words.

"Your daughter is a credit to your line," King Arthur said, looking at their children dancing.

"And your son might prove a worthy match, should alliances call for it." King Edward replied. "I'm sure we still have our trade agreement in place?"

King Arthur nodded, his gaze measured as he lifted his cup for a toast. "Let us hope the children forge their own paths... with our guidance."

Throughout the gala, Catherine kept to her duties, refilling glasses and avoiding too many eyes. Across the ballroom, George searched the crowd, eyes lingering in Catherine's direction.

At one point, as she turned from the refreshment table, she collided into someone tall and solid.

"Forgive me-" she began, flustered.

George steadied her, his touch warm but brief on the elbow. "Careful now..."

She looked up, startled, "Geo-Your Highness... What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be over there?" she said, pointing at the royal chamber.

"Well, I thought you might need some help."

She was confused, but then saw the smirk on his lips and couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. Just for a beat, the world outside their bubble faded and it was only them, her pulse quickening at the closeness, a warmth blooming in his eyes as he watched her.

But their quiet bubble burst as the crowd shifted, and George stepped back to decorum.

Over his shoulder, Catherine caught sight of Katarina, her gaze trained on them. The princess's expression was perfectly composed as she turned away, lost in conversation with two Drakonhelm nobles.

Then, George gave Catherine a last, soft smile. "I have to go now. Duty calls. Take care tonight," he murmured, voice so quiet only she could hear.

- - -

Later, in Drakonhelm's candlelit palace, Katarina slipped out of her gown, settling amidst her sisters.

"How was Eldoria?" Her younger sister, Princess Almeria, asked.

"Gold and marble everywhere. The prince is so handsome, but he was distracted throughout the night. Their staff? Easy to read, if you know what you need."

Her eldest sister, Princess Daisy, arched an eyebrow. "And did you leave an impression?"

Katarina patted her neck, where one earring was missing. "Let's just say I started a little game. Father will approve if all goes according to plan."

- - -

Back in Eldoria, as soon as the gala ended and all the guests had left in carriages and moonlit walks, Catherine beckoned her mother to wait while she returned to the staff cloakroom to grab her bag.

The room lights were dim, a few staff were also there. Catherine found her purse tucked in the corner. As she lifted it, she noticed the zipper was slightly open. Someone's been in my bag, she thought.

She unfastened it and inside, she saw a scrap of paper marked by red lipstick. "One secret leads to another. Tonight is just the beginning."

Her stomach flipped. Digging deeper, her hand brushed something hard. She pulled out a single diamond earring. The same one that glittered on Katarina's ear all night.

She froze. What.. How did this get here?

Catherine jolted awake, her heart pounding in the twilight stillness. She moved quietly, careful not to wake her mother, and slipped into the corridor where the first rays of dawn slipped through the frosted glass.

She found Isla already preparing tea in the pantry, hands deft, but her eyes were swollen with lack of sleep.

"Cathy, I thought you'd never come out." Her voice was hushed, urgent. "Did you do what I said with the earring?"

Catherine shivered, clutching her own arms. "It's hidden for now. Isla, what if they search everyone? If they find it-"

Isla pressed a reassuring hand over hers. "They won't, Cathy. I'll help you think this through. We keep our heads. No one knows but you, me... and whoever put it in your bag."

Catherine forced a tight nod. Then, Isla's gaze drifted past her, to the kitchen's far corner. Mr. Alden, the King's junior royal secretary, loitered there, charming a row of maids with clever smiles and low jokes. Catherine saw the glimmer in her friend's eyes and followed her gaze.

"Ooohhh... someone's swooning," she teased.

"Uhh.. no," Isla quickly put her head down. "Well, maybe... I just think he's cute."

Catherine looked back at the secretary. "Why not go talk to him then?"

Isla's face turned red, trying to change the topic. "Why not we get back to work before Mrs. Harrow meets us here."

The girls laughed, and Catherine felt a bit relieved, but fear still lingered in her mind.

- - -

By midmorning, King Edward stormed the palace, his cloak billowing, demanding an audience with King Arthur, who quickly ushered him into a private office.

"Is this what you call security?" Edward's voice boomed as soon as he saw King Arthur. "A guest is invited into your house, and a priceless jewel is stolen?"

The King was shocked. "I seem not to understand what you are talking about."

"My daughter's diamond earrings. She is missing one of them. Surely, someone at the gala took them."

King Arthur's expression tightened with both embarrassment and fury. "I can assure you, Edward, nothing like this has happened before. I will not tolerate such insults to your family. I promise you, we will get to the bottom of it here and now."

Queen Charlotte, who was beside them, inclined her head, lips a pale line. Quietly, the Chief of Staff and the palace manager were summoned, and then Mrs. Harrow soon after.

Before long, the cry echoed up the servants' wing: "Princess Katarina's earring is missing!" The news travelled fast. Maids, footmen, even the cooks stopped what they were doing to pass along the details. The palace seemed to tense as a single body.

An investigation immediately followed: Servants stood in lines, every bag was upturned, and pockets were checked. Catherine's pulse quickened with each inspection, nausea roiling beneath her nervousness.

One of the maids, Beatrice, with her smug little smile, glanced over at Catherine and murmured, "They say the prince's favorites always get bold sooner or later."

Another maid, Lucy, joined in, taunting, "If you're hiding anything, you'd best come clean now, Catherine."

Isla bristled, moving protectively closer. "Keep your nose out of other people's business," she snapped quietly.

The Chief of Staff's search was thorough, but Catherine was still nervous. The earrings were buried deep beneath a large stone in the larder, exactly as Isla had suggested.

By noon, Catherine couldn't stand the heat in the kitchen and made her way, pale and shaking, to the laundry. Her mother found her halfway, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead.

"You can't keep running yourself ragged, dear. This stress isn't good for you," then quietly added, "...or for the baby."

"I'm trying, Ma," Catherine whispered. "Really."

Elizabeth drew her close, worry seeping into every gesture. "If it gets worse, you'll need to go home to rest. I'll talk to Mrs. Harrow to make certain of it."

Later that afternoon, George finally found Catherine in the rose garden, tending the winter plants.

He came up behind her. "I've hardly seen you all day," he said, voice gentle.

Catherine, startled by it, turned immediately, brushing dead leaves from between her fingers. "There are eyes everywhere, Your Highness," she said softly.

Your Highness? Why does she sound formal when it's just them in the garden? He thought, but let it slide.

"That's not what I meant. Catherine... you look unwell. Is something wrong?"

She hesitated, searching his face. If only she could confess, but too much depended on her silence. "I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well, that's all," she lied, twisting her hands until her white knuckles ached.

George instinctively reached for her, but stopped just short. "We're friends, right? If something is going on, you can trust me."

Catherine's barriers crumbled. "I know that," she said quietly.

George waited for her to say more, but she didn't. They stood in uneasy silence, longing and words half-spoken hanging between them, before a clatter at the far path forced them apart.

"I have to go now," Catherine said and hurried off.

Later that night, just outside the garden gate, Isla and Catherine stood by, laughing with Mr. Alden, whose banter drew a wider circle of young staff. Isla was blushing at something he had said.

As George turned the corner with his friend, David, he saw how close Catherine was with Alden and something twisted in his chest. He watched them for a moment too long, jealousy mingling with confusion.

"Hey," David tapped his fingers in front of George's face, bringing him back to reality. "Did you hear what I said?"

"W-What?" George asked, turning to his friend.

"You've been brooding, mate," David observed. "Since the pub... Is this about your dad and his persistence on you getting married? Or is it about Catherine?"

George swallowed, his gaze distant. "It's like every time I see her, she's further away. I can't stop thinking about her, David. Something changed that night. I find myself caring for her...more than I had ever done before."

David grinned. "Maybe you should stop thinking and start talking, George. Personally, I'd say you should f***k what your parents and tell her how you feel... before someone else does for you."

George didn't answer, but the words lingered in his mind.

- - -

By midnight, when the Eldoria's Palace was completely quiet, a figure slipped from the shadows, their cloak drawn tight. They rode their horse until they arrived at Drakonhelm.

The figure then continued onto the palace where King Edward, Queen Charlotte, and Princess Katarina waited in the throne room, their eyes sharp as glass.

The figure removed their cloak and bowed, presenting a folder.

"I bring new information, Your Majesties. Eldoria Palace is already in turmoil with the missing earring, and everything is going according to plan."

Katarina smiled, turning to her parents. "You see, Father, I told you it would work."

"There's another situation I am monitoring. About a relationship with Prince George and a maid. I will give a report as soon as I am sure of my findings."

Everyone gasped.

King Edward's smile bloomed slowly and cold. "So even palaces built on marble have cracks in the stone. Good. Secrets are currency here, Mr. Alden. We'll put yours to use soon enough."