Y/N is just a normal, peasant girl, so how did she end up in this place, serving under the King's cruel command? Well, it's simple, really. She just wants her family to be safe even if it means putting up with his insane personality, but how long wi...
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"You're positive this will work?" I ask anxiously as the butler walked around me with a pair of scissors to style my hair in a different way. We are currently hiding in the male dormitories, hurriedly putting together this disguise to fool the people inside and outside of the palace. It would only take one person to rat us out to the King, then the whole operation would be blown to smithereens.
"If no one looks hard enough, it should do us just fine. Servants of my standing go out on errands all the time, so hopefully, no one will suspect once they see the uniforms." He places the scissors down once he's done before opening the trunk at the foot of his bed. "You can use my spare suit." He hands me the pale blue outfit as I stand before turning around to give me some privacy. With no where else to change, I had no other choice. I was quick, though. The window of escape was closing with every second we waste. Once I was mostly covered in the clothes, I gave him the go ahead to clean up the hairs from the floor as well as my dress. "We'll take the way to the incinerators to dispose of these. It's in the quickest servant passage out of here, thank god. My nerves may eat me alive."
"Let's hurry, then," I say while finishing the tie around my neck. We make haste, walking together with bags of trash to take to the incinerator without looking suspicious. I wanted to run but knew it would be wiser to keep the pace. We passed many servants on our way to the chute and past but none spared even a second glance. That didn't stop my heart from racing in my chest. Eventually, we successfully make it to the side gates outside. Now all that stood between me and freedom were the guards standing tall in armor outside of it. I feel I might faint when they stop us.
"Where are you off to?" One asks in a gruff voice.
"His m- majesty r- requested that s- steak was to be made for dinner tonight. The l- last cow was fed to Weston, so we have to go to the butchers to get some and put an order for more steers," my guide answers through squeaky stammers. I could feel the burn radiating from the guards' heated glares as they stared at us in suspicion.
'Please, buy it,' I pray, thinking of the worst that would come should they not believe us.
"Fix that damn stutter of yours, Dallas. You know his majesty hates people who stutter," the other guard reminds sternly, yet kindly. I thought I'd fall over then and there.
'Funny,heseemstoloveitwhenIdoit.' They let us pass without further question or comment, to our relief, and so, we continue our pace into town.
