Luna

Quaters

Elora awoke from her slumber, startled by the melodies of birds and the gentle murmur of the nearby river.

As she tried to make sense of her surroundings in the forest, memories of her encounter with a wounded black wolf flooded back. She recalled how terrified and angry the wolf had been, but his dark, intense eyes, brimming with a mixture of vulnerability and strength, lingered in her thoughts. Treating his injuries had created an unspoken connection that haunted her.

Glancing around and finding herself alone, she began to question whether it had all been a dream. Realising that her daily duties at the palace awaited, she swiftly rose to her feet, muttering, "Madam Grace is going to have my head," and hurriedly made her way back to the castle.

On her way to the castle, she discovered footprints on the moist grass, transitioning from the paw prints of a wolf to those of a human. Observing a healed scar on her left hand, she realised that the dream she had believed in was, in fact, a reality.

Elora began sprinting toward the maids' quarters within the castle, "I hope the wolf is better now" she wondered within herself.

In the heart of the majestic castle, where the bustling life of its inhabitants flowed like a river, there existed a dedicated section reserved for the maids and helpers. As you entered, a grand hallway led the way, adorned with pictures that depicted heroic tales of the kingdom's history.

The maids' quarters were a symphony of order and efficiency. Rows of neatly made beds with crisp linens lined the walls, each adorned with meticulously folded cloths, and dainty cushions that bore the castle's crest. Sunlight streamed through tall, narrow windows, casting a warm glow on the wooden floors, which were diligently polished to a mirror-like shine.

A large central table, hewn from solid oak, stood proudly in the middle of the room, covered with freshly picked wildflowers in elegant porcelain vases. This was the gathering point for the maids during their brief moments of respite, where laughter and whispered stories filled the air.

The helpers' section was a realm of practicality. Tools and utensils hung neatly from hooks on the walls, showcasing the meticulous craftsmanship of the castle's blacksmiths. Shelves were meticulously organized, filled with cleaning supplies and other necessities for their daily tasks.

In the corner of the room, a hearth with a roaring fire brought comfort to those who sought warmth after long hours of labor. The scent of a hearty stew simmering in a cauldron hung in the air, a testament to the diligent hands that ensured the sustenance of the castle's inhabitants.

As one traversed the section of maids and helpers, the underlying sense of duty and commitment to the castle's well-being was palpable, and the atmosphere was steeped in history, tradition, and the unyielding dedication of those who served.

As soon as Elora stepped into the quarter, she headed straight for her bed in the corner of the room. Hurrying to grab a metal bucket for her bath, she suddenly felt a breath on her neck. "Where have you been?" someone whispered. Startled, she let out a scream and swung the bucket at the person behind her. "Ouch! I wouldn't be concerned if your first reaction to danger wasn't always violence," remarked Christiana, Elora's best friend, while holding her head.

"Tiana, I'm terribly sorry. Let me check if you're okay." Elora expressed while anxiously examining Tiana's head for any signs of injury.

"You do know that we werewolves heal within seconds, right?" Tiana playfully chuckled.

"Remain still," Elora insisted with concern.

"Yes, ma'am," Tiana playfully saluted. "You wield weapons like a warrior but care like a mother hen. You might just end up tending to your attackers instead of beating them up."

"Christiana Anderson," an irate Elora exclaimed.

"Alright, alright, I'm done teasing you," Tiana said, gently shaking her head. "Look, I'm perfectly fine. Quit worrying and go take your bath. We're running late for roll call and inspection."

Madam Grace, the formidable head of the maids, was known for her punctuality and unwavering commitment to her duties. The only Omega that sits with the alpha, Luna and Beta. She took the role of overseeing the daily roll call and inspection with utmost seriousness.

The maids in a big hall, all dressed in crisp, black-and-white uniforms, stood in neat rows, their hands folded behind their backs. Their faces displayed a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as they awaited Madam Grace's arrival. The roll call was a daily ritual, but it was never taken lightly.

"Good morning, ladies," Madam Grace's voice rang out as she entered the hall. Her tall, lean figure and sharp features conveyed an air of authority. She held a scroll in one hand, a list of all the maids in her charge even though she doesn't needs it because she knows every maid.

"Good morning, Madam Grace" the maids replied in unison, their voices soft but clear.

The roll call began. Madam Grace read each name with precision, and the maids responded. It was a meticulous process, designed to ensure that no one was absent or late. In Crescent moon Castle, punctuality and reliability were highly esteemed qualities.

Once the roll call was completed without any discrepancies, Madam Grace shifted her focus to the inspection. She examined each maid's uniform, ensuring that it was pristine and neatly pressed. Any wrinkles or stains were met with a stern look, and Madam Grace would make a note of it.

As she moved from maid to maid, her keen eyes didn't miss a single detail. Hairpins, apron ties, and shoe buckles were scrutinized. Cleanliness was paramount, and every maid knew that even the tiniest lapse could lead to admonishment. Upon reaching Elora, she stopped. Giving her a stern look, "Why are you wearing different shoes?"
Tiana chuckles from behind while Elora gasped "I was in a hurry, Madam Grace" she bowed
"Been in a hurry, meant you either slept late or didn't sleep at all. " Madam Grace mentioned angrily as she moved to the next maid.

The inspection extended to their overall appearance and demeanor. Nails had to be trimmed, and no maid was allowed to wear any jewelry or cosmetics. Their faces were to be free from any hint of makeup, and their posture had to be straight and dignified.

The atmosphere in the grand hall was tense, and the maids held their breath as Madam Grace made her way through the rows. It was a daily reminder of the castle's stringent standards and the need for discipline.

When the inspection concluded, Lady Margaret addressed the maids once more. "Ladies, remember what section you were assigned to. Elora, clean the hall before going to your regular chores"

With the grand hall gradually emptying, Madam Grace took a moment to reflect on the importance of her role. She was not just the overseer of the maids but also their mentor and guide. It was her duty to ensure that they not only met the castle's exacting standards but also grew personally and professionally.

Once the maids had gone about their daily tasks, Madam Grace set out to inspect the various chambers. Her presence was not merely to enforce the rules, but also to offer guidance and instruction. She would occasionally pause to correct a bedsheet's alignment or demonstrate a more efficient way to scrub a stubborn stain.

In her interactions, Madam Grace showed a remarkable blend of strictness and compassion. She was well aware of the pressure her charges were under and was quick to offer words of encouragement and appreciation when she witnessed their hard work and improvement.

She watched as Elora ran towards the stores at the end of the hall in search of cleaning tools. She smiled seeing the small lady working without any form of reluctance. As Elora return to the hall with the cleaning tools, Madam Grace instantly changed her expression to a stern one, walking back to her quarters .