The celebration of Princess Jodha's arrival had stretched late into the night, but by dawn, the halls glittered as though nothing had happened.

Somewhere in the east quarters, Milan buttoned her simple uniform - pale cream with a neat waist tie. Her eyes felt heavy, but her hands moved fast. Amy had warned her the palace was strict; one mistake and you were sent home.

Three days had passed since their final exams. While others rested,she's in the palace working, assisting when needed and helping with cleaning rotations. Today, her father had handed her a slip of paper stamped with the royal seal

"Report to the east wing," it read."New assignment: Prince's household." Her heart had skipped a beat - the crown prince's wing? Why?

At that same hour, Prince Kamil stepped out of his car at the private gate of the royal residence, a black mask still covering half his face from the city dust.

He'd spent the night at his penthouse in Rizon City as he barely have time for his friends .

Liam had insisted on keeping him out till nearly dawn while Abel supported.

"Bro, you're not even twenty and you act like you're fifty," Abel had teased, halfway through a drink."Ruling doesn't start when the crown sits," Kamil had replied, dryly. "It starts when no one gives you a choice."

Now, back in the silence of Azzam Palace, he felt that weight again. The guards bowed as he walked in. No one dared speak. Milan entered the east wing through the servant corridor. It was too quiet. Even the air smelled different. She was carrying a tray of polished glasses when she heard the sound of footsteps coming from behind the tall indoor garden that separated the east wing from the main hall.

A man's voice drifted closer ,low and deep.

She turned - and nearly bumped into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said quickly, steadying the tray.

Kamil blinked, caught off guard. He wasn't used to being apologized to - people usually bowed, froze, or overreacted.

"It's fine," he said simply, stepping aside. His voice was calm, and she didn't look up long enough to recognize him.

Milan nodded, embarrassed. "Thank you. I-I'm still learning my way around."

"New?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Just got assigned here this morning. I was supposed to bring these to..." She glanced at the note in her pocket. "...the prince's study."

Kamil's mouth twitched. "The prince's study, huh?"

"Yes. They said he doesn't like delays. Or noise."

"That sounds accurate," Kamil said with a faint smile.

"You sound like you know him," she said, curious now, but still not looking up long enough to notice the resemblance to the portraits she'd seen on the palace wall."Maybe I do."

She sighed. "Then tell him his maids work too much. We clean, we polish, we serve, we bow- by the time I blink, it's midnight again."

He almost laughed. "I'll... mention it."

"Please do," she said, grinning slightly. "Maybe he'll pity us and give us a day off."

He couldn't help himself - he laughed, quietly.

Before Milan could say more, another voice called sharply from the corridor:

"Milan! Hurry, they're calling all staff to the main entrance!"

She jumped. "I have to go. Um-sorry again!"

She turned and hurried away, balancing her tray carefully. Kamil watched her until she disappeared around the corner. Something about her lingered - the way she spoke freely, the lack of fear, the faint trace of a voice he couldn't forget.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving.

"So the voice has a face," he murmured.

Kamil stood near the tall windows of his private lounge, watching the gardens below. The girl from earlier lingered in his thoughts - the maid with the linen uniform and eyes too bright for this place.

He shouldn't still be thinking about it.

It was nothing. Just a voice.

Just a face.

He told himself that twice, then once more for good measure. A soft knock came, then the door opened without waiting for permission. 

"Your Highness," Liam announced dramatically, pushing the door wider, "your palace is too quiet. It's depressing. I nearly fell asleep three times before getting here, we thought to surprise you by coming ."

 Abel followed, sunglasses still on indoors. "He's not lying. Plus there's more life in a cemetery."Kamil turned slowly. "You're both supposed to be resting."

Liam flopped onto the couch. "Resting is for people without palaces. Abel smirked. "Or maids."

Kamil's brow lifted. "Maids?"

Liam shot Abel a look. "Don't start."

Abel ignored him. "Word travels fast, Your Highness. Something about a new recruit bumping into you this morning. I didn't know palace gossip spread faster than the news."

Kamil exhaled, leaning back against the window ledge. "It's barely minutes , You both need new hobbies."

"Oh, come on," Liam said. "You haven't laughed like that in months. Abel said one of the guards saw you smile."

"I always smile."

"Sure," Abel said dryly, "just never where people can see it."

Kamil's lips curved - barely. "Maybe you're all imagining things."

Liam grinned. "Describe her."

"Who?"

"The maid."

Kamil's silence made them grin wider.

"I don't remember," he said finally. "It was brief."

"Brief," Liam repeated. "Yet here we are, talking about it."

Kamil's gaze drifted to the gardens again.

"I'm not talking about this," he muttered.Abel stretched lazily. "Of course you're not."

Liam leaned forward. "If you ever start sneaking out to the east wing, we'll know why."

Kamil threw a pillow at him. "Get out."

Liam ducked, laughing. "Love looks good on you, Crown Prince."

"Love?" Kamil scoffed. "It's curiosity. Nothing more."

But as the door closed behind them, the word stuck.

Curiosity.

Then why did his chest feel lighter than it had in weeks?

Why did he suddenly find himself wishing the palace weren't so large... so he could cross paths with her again?

He sighed, pressing his hand against the cool glass and for the briefest second, he thought he heard it again - that soft hum, floating in the afternoon air.

Milan clutched a stack of folded linens to her chest, trying not to look lost. Her first full day as a palace maid, and already she had taken three wrong turns and to worsen it all, it's noon already . She hasn't been able to rest well.

The uniforms were stiff, the walls endless, and the people- Well, they all seemed to know where they belonged while she didn't

She grumbled,"if hiba ever says working here is fun, I'll drown her in soap water."

"Violent first day?" a voice teased.

Milan turned sharply.

A young man stood by the archway, tall, dressed simply in a dark shirt - no royal insignia, nothing that gave away his rank. His eyes were unreadable, but they held quiet amusement.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she stammered, clutching her linens tighter. "I didn't mean- I thought I was alone.""You are," he said lightly. "Mostly."

She frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

He smiled, "This palace rarely does."

Milan tilted her head, studying him. "You work here too?"

"Something like that," he said. "You?"

"New maid," she said, managing a nervous smile. "They said I'll be helping in the east wing."

He nodded slowly - his wing. "Busy place."

"You sound like you know it well."

"Let's say I've been around."

She chuckled, loosening slightly. "Then maybe you can show me around sometime... mister...?"

He hesitated, then said, "Rami."

"Milan," she said, extending her hand.

He looked at it, then shook it - careful, measured. "Nice to meet you, Milan."

She sighed in relief. "At least one person here isn't terrifying."

Kamil - Rami - smiled faintly. "Give them time."

She laughed quietly, then added, "Honestly, I'm more worried about the rumor."

"What rumor?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" she asked, lowering her voice. "Apparently, one of the maids bumped into the Crown Prince this morning. Now everyone's saying she might be punished."He raised a brow. "Sounds dramatic."

"Everything here is dramatic," she said. "And the worst part? It's true. I was the maid."

Kamil blinked. "You-?"trying to sound surprised. He had stepped away from his chamber for a while to come have a silent moment in the garden. 

"I didn't know he was the prince! He looked like a guard or something. I said things I shouldn't have said." She bit her lip. "And now Princess Jodha heard about it. I was called this morning by the steward. I thought I'd be fired."

"And were you?"

"No," she exhaled. "But I'm sure she hates me now."

He fought the urge to laugh. "You think the prince will punish you?"

"I hope not," she muttered. "They say he's cold. Unforgiving. The kind of man who can end your job with a look."

He tilted his head, amused. "You believe that?"

"I don't want to find out."

Kamil tried not to smile. "Maybe he's not as terrible as they say."

She snorted. "You sound like you know him."

"Maybe I do."

"Well, then," she said, stepping closer, voice dropping playfully, "put in a good word for me, Rami. I'd like to keep my job long enough to buy a new pair of shoes."

Kamil chuckled. "Consider it done."

"Thank you." She smiled, then hesitated. "You know... you don't talk like a palace worker."

He shrugged lightly. "Maybe I listen better than I talk."

"Well," she said, shifting the linens, "you're better company than most here. Friends?"He blinked.

"Friends," she repeated, holding out her pinky.

He stared at it, then linked his with hers. "Friends."

By night, Liam and Abel entered the lounge unannounced, as usual. Liam dropped a folder on Kamil's desk. "Here's the final summary from the council. And before you say you're busy, no - this can't wait."

Abel sat opposite him, typing on his tablet. "We've been monitoring the Nalal talks.

Bashi's been unusually... vocal. He's aligning himself closer to the Nalal minister."

Kamil leaned back. "That's his problem, not mine."

Abel didn't look up. "It becomes your problem when Kaan gets involved."

Kamil frowned slightly. "Kaan?"

Liam raised a brow. "You don't know him?"

Kamil shook his head. "No. Should I?"

"He's Bashi's son," Abel explained. "Arrogant. Impatient. Thinks the throne should've skipped generations."

Kamil nodded knowing fully well he would forget who kaan was the next minute . "Then he's not very bright."

Liam grinned. "Oh, he's bright. Just dangerous."

Abel added, "And if Bashi's feeding him ambitions, you might want to pay attention."

Kamil stood, gaze moving toward the window again.

He barely heard Liam say, "So, what's our next move?"

"Nothing," Kamil said quietly. "Let them talk."

Liam frowned. "You sure that's wise?"Kamil's voice was calm. "The louder they talk, the easier they are to hear."

Abel smirked. "You sound like your father."

"You don't even know him well. We were kids ." Kamil answered. Liam and Abel had been his childhood friend . They were both orphan . Kamil met them in school while he was away abroad.

From her suite balcony, Princess Jodha watched the palace gardens sway beneath her.

Her reflection in the mirror behind her wore calm perfection, diamonds burning like fire at her throat. But her mind was elsewhere.

Prince Kamil

The man everyone whispered about.

He was colder than she expected, sharper too. Every word from him felt measured. And yet...

there was something underneath it.

And it wasn't for her.

She saw it at dinner - that fleeting drift of his eyes, as if something else had caught his thoughts.

She hated that she noticed.

"Your Highness?" her handmaid, Zara, stepped inside carefully. "The council has sent the schedule for tomorrow."

"Leave it on the table," Jodha said absently.

Zara hesitated. "There's also... something you might want to know."

That made Jodha turn.

"One of the kitchen girls was talking earlier," Zara continued carefully. "She said the Crown Prince was seen at the east wing garden yesterday evening... speaking with a maid."

Jodha's voice stayed even. "And?""They said he smiled," Zara said, lowering her eyes.

The silence stretched.

Jodha's rings glinted as her fingers brushed against her wrist. "A maid?"

"Yes, Your Highness. A new recruit. " Zara stopped. "-Same one who apparently bumped into the prince a few days ago."

Jodha turned back to the window, her face unreadable.

"How amusing," Jodha said softly. "The help seems to find favor in unexpected places."

"Shall I... look into her?" Zara asked quietly.

Jodha's lips curved "Yes," she said finally. "Find out her name. Her family. Everything."

She turned away, the evening light cutting across her gown like fire. "If she thinks this palace is her fairytale, let's see how quickly dreams burn in Azzam."

In two days, Kamil would be crowned as Azzam's youngest ruler.

She sat by her vanity, letting her maid pin emeralds into her dark hair.

Her reflection smiled faintly, though her eyes were distant.

She wasn't thinking about the coronation. She was thinking about him.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

Zara, her handmaid, stepped in quietly and bowed.

"Your Highness... a small report came from the servant's hall. I thought you might want to hear."

Jodha's eyes flicked toward the mirror. "A report?""Yes," Zara said carefully. "It's about the maid - Milan. She... shares the same birthday as the Crown Prince. The servants are talking about it."

Jodha's expression sharpened. "The same day?"

"Yes, Your Highness. A days from now."

"Interesting," she murmured, twisting an earring between her fingers.

"Does the prince know?" she asked.

"No, Your Highness. It's just gossip among the staff."

Jodha smiled, slow and deliberate. "Then let's keep it that way."

Zara hesitated. "Should I tell the Queen Mother?"

"Not yet," Jodha said, turning back to her mirror. "Let them celebrate their little servant birthdays. The palace has bigger things to worry about."

Her voice was calm, "I don't like coincidences." Especially ones that sounded like destiny.

Down in the servants' quarters, the air buzzed with energy of a different kind.

Milan adjusted her apron and brushed flour off her sleeves as she hurried between the kitchens. Her father's laughter echoed from the far end giving instructions to the palace cooks.

"Add more saffron! His Highness prefers it mild, not drowning!" he called out, ladle in hand.

Milan grinned softly. "You say that like you're the one getting crowned, Father."

He turned, mock-offended. "And why not? I've served three crowns in this palace. That's longer than most nobles have held their titles."

She laughed, stepping closer to hand him a bowl. "Then maybe they should be bowing to you.""Don't tempt me," he said with a wink.

Then his tone softened. "Two days, eh? Your birthday again. Seems like just yesterday your mother was-"

He stopped. The smile faltered. They both knew how the sentence ended.

Milan squeezed his hand gently. "She'd be proud, Father."

He nodded once, then cleared his throat quickly. "You should be in the east wing by now. The decorators are waiting for extra help. Go before I get scolded for keeping you."

She smiled, kissed his cheek, and turned to leave.

As she walked through the hall, the air shimmered with noise , the sound of a thousand dreams colliding in one palace. She didn't notice the man watching from the upper balcony - his robe unbuttoned at the collar, his expression unreadable.

Kamil leaned against the marble rail, eyes following her for a heartbeat too long.

Liam's voice broke the silence beside him. "You're staring again."

Kamil didn't answer.

Abel chuckled from behind. "At least this time, it's daylight."

Kamil's gaze didn't move. "She said her name's Milan."

"Ah," Liam said, pretending to think. "The one who nearly started a court scandal."

"She didn't start anything."

Abel smirked. "Defensive already. Should we alert the Queen Mother?"

Kamil turned to them with a quiet warning in his tone. "Don't."

They exchanged glances - half teasing, half serious."You know," Liam said, "Jodha won't take kindly to any rumor that involves another girl.

Especially not now."

"I know," Kamil said simply.

He turned back toward the courtyard - where Milan was now helping the florists arrange golden petals by the fountain.

He didn't understand why he suddenly wished the coronation would take longer to come.

Just two days before the crown would change everything.

And for reasons he couldn't explain, Kamil had a feeling the quietest girl in the palace would somehow be right in the middle of it.

Kamil had just dismissed his guards when Queen Ayisha stepped into his lounge. Liam and Abel had excused themselves to attend the royal council meeting in his place. .

He straightened immediately. "Mother," he greeted with quiet respect. Even tho she wasn't his mother by blood, kamil had alwys held her in high esteem and Ayisha had alwys shown him nothing but pure love. 

She smiled faintly. "You still stand like your father when you're lost in thought."

He exhaled softly. "Am I that easy to read?"

"To me, yes," she said, walking closer. "You've been quieter than usual, even for you."

He hesitated, gaze dropping to the window. "Just... thinking about what's coming. The council, the ceremony, the expectations."

Ayisha placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You were born for this, Kamil. And your father would've said the same."

He smiled faintly. "You sound too sure."

"I have to be," she said with a teasing glint. "Someone has to believe in you when you forget to believe in yourself."For a moment, silence stretched.

Then she said softly, "I heard about the new maid. The one who... bumped into you."

Kamil's eyes flickered. "Is there anything you don't hear?"

Ayisha chuckled. "Not in this palace. Don't look so alarmed, my son. It's nothing scandalous. You're human before you're a crown."

"I wasn't-" 

"-interested?" she finished for him, amused. "Of course not."

Kamil shook his head, though a small, helpless smile tugged at his lips. "She doesn't even know who I am."

"That might be what you like most about her," Ayisha said knowingly. "It's rare for anyone to speak to you as just... a person."

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The truth hung in the quiet between them.

"Your father used to sneak away to the gardens too," she murmured. "Said the crown felt lighter when he was near the lilies."

Kamil smiled faintly. "Then maybe I'm not so different from him after all."

"No," Ayisha said, looking at him with soft pride. "You're not."

Meanwhile, in another wing of the palace, Mirian walked briskly down the hall, her heels striking the marble with restrained anger. The decorators had just left the ballroom.

She was halfway through checking the guest list when a voice called out from behind.

"Busy as always, cousin."

Kaan.

Mirian's spine stiffened before she turned. "Shouldn't you be helping your father with the coronation preparations?"Kaan leaned lazily against a column, that half-smirk playing on his lips.

 "Oh, I am helping by making sure our future king doesn't make a fool of himself."

Her gaze hardened. "You're treading dangerous ground."

He tilted his head. "Am I? You defend him so fiercely, it makes me wonder..." He stepped closer, voice dropping. 

"Is it duty that drives you, or something softer?"

Mirian's jaw tightened. "Watch your words."

"I only say what everyone sees," he murmured. "You think no one notices the way you look at him?"

Her chest rose sharply, but she didn't back down. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I do," Kaan said, amusement curling through his tone. "You wear your heart like a crown you'll never get to wear."

She forced herself to breathe. "You hate him because he doesn't notice you exist. Don't make the rest of us suffer for that."

For a second, his smirk faltered "Careful, Mirian. In this palace, loyalty and love are the quickest ways to ruin."

When he finally walked off, she stood there, pulse racing, the echo of his words clinging to the silence.

She hated how much truth they almost carried.

Because even after all her denial, she did look for Kamil in every hall.

Queen Aisha had excused himself to go attend the women's forum with Queen mother. She promised to come back and continued their conversation.

"You're not smiling ," she said behind kamil as he stared through the glass.

He turned slightly. Queen Ayisha approached, She stopped beside him, her presence instantly easing the air."I'm thinking again ," he said simply.

"About the ceremony or the crown?"

"Both," Kamil admitted. "It feels... heavy already."

Ayisha smiled faintly. "Good. If it feels heavy, you'll wear it right."

He glanced at her "You always know what to say."

"That's what mothers do."

He smiled at that, quietly. "Thank you... for everything."

She looked at him for a long time. "You've grown into the kind of man your father would be proud of, Kamil. Don't let the noise around you make you doubt that."

"I won't."

"Good," she said softly, then her tone lightened. "Now tell me - is it true you made the decorators change the color scheme three times?"

Kamil gave a helpless laugh. "They wanted red curtains, Your Grace. I said no."

"And why?"

He smirked faintly. "Because red is for war. Not for kings who want peace."

Ayisha's eyes softened. "You really do think differently."

"Or I just think too much."

Before she could respond, the door opened, and Yaya burst in , her gold earrings bouncing as she ran toward them.

"Grandmother says the doves for the release arrived!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. "There are so many - can I feed them?"

Ayisha chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Only if you promise not to name them again." 

"But I already did!" Yaya grinned proudly. "One is Kamil Junior."

Kamil groaned. "Please tell me it's at least a handsome bird."

"It's the fattest one!"

Ayisha laughed , warm, unrestrained, motherly.