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From Maid To The King's Beloved Novel Cover

From Maid To The King's Beloved

Sold out by the man who raised her, village girl Anya is thrust into a palace rife with peril and unspoken longing. King Alistair, tormented by sleeplessness that threatens his sanity, discovers an unexpected peace in her company. Chosen as his nightly companion, she glimpses the fractured soul beneath his cold crown. Yet as their forbidden connection intensifies, the family who abandoned her and envious courtiers conspire to destroy her. But Anya has transformed—she is no longer the meek maid they once knew.
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Chapter 5

~Anya’s POV~

One afternoon, Maya and I were posted at the king's pantry while taking a short break. We were sitting at a small stainless-steel prep table in a corner. We are eating bowls of hot, thick potato soup mixed with sweet yellow corn. Beside the streaming soup, we had thick slices of warm brown bread spread with salted butter.

My face was completely relaxed, and for the first time in the time I had been in the palace, I had a big, genuine smile on my lips. Today wasn't very busy and I haven't laid eyes on Lady Seraphina for days.

“Eat more, Anya,” Maya said, pushing the tray of warm bread toward me. "You are still too petite. You need to build your strength.”

“This is the best food I have ever had," I replied, taking a big bite of the soft bread. “I still cannot believe I get to eat this every day."

Maya smiled, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners with joy. "So, tell me,” she said, intentionally leaning forward. “Why did you really choose to stay in this place? Most girls would take the envelope of cash and run far away. Palace life is exhausting.”

“I told the king the truth," I said softly, looking down at my soup. “My adoptive family treated me like a slave. If I went back with that money, Silas would just take it and keep treating me cruelly. I want to save the wages I earn here and pay for my own education.”

Maya looked at me with something that looked like deep respect. “You are very brave, Anya. But you must be careful here. Especially with Lady Seraphina.”

That exactly makes me ask the question that has been eating me up. “Why does she hate me so much?" I asked quietly. "I did not even do anything to her.”

"She is the Prime minister's daughter,” Maya explained, her voice dropping to an anxious whisper. "And the official Royal consort candidate for the king. Her family holds immense power, and everyone in the court expects her to marry the King and become Queen. She is viciously jealous of anyone who gets His Majesty's attention. And the King himself… he is very difficult right now.”

I frowned, lowering my spoon. “Difficult?"

She looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Nobody knows what really happened.” She whispered. "But the King can not sleep. His doctors do regular check ups on him but…” she shook her head. "The medicine they came up with only works sometimes. Even the Queen mother had arranged countless physicians for him, none was able to cure his condition except the medicine from the doctors. He just gets furious sometimes and completely loses control.”

Before I could ask anything else, our peaceful break was shattered.

Loud, aggressive noises echoed down the grand hallway outside the kitchen. We could hear heavy furniture hitting the floor and glass shattering into tiny pieces.

A group of senior maids came sprinting down the hall. They stopped right outside the kitchen looking absolutely terrified. The King was throwing things again. He was having another violent outburst inside his private suite.

A maid named Sarah stood at the front of the panicked group. Her pale skin was as white as a ghost. Her expression was pure panic. Her hands were shaking so wildly that the shiny silver tray she held was rattling loudly.

On the tray was a small porcelain cup with a fitted lid used to serve medicine. It must have been brought to him from the Queen Mother.

“It's a heavy sedative meant to force the king to sleep and calm his terrible rage," Maya whispered.

No wonder he refused to take it.

Sarah stared at the heavy wooden doors of the king's suite at the end of the hall. Then she looked back at the group of trembling servants. No one wanted to go anywhere near him. Finally, her terrified eyes locked onto me.

Before I could even step back, she ran over and shoved the silver tray directly into my hands. “You are the new girl, right?" she whispered, her breathing fast and shallow.

I stared at her, confused. Before I could react. “You go," she said. “Give the King the medicine."

My heart plummeted into my stomach. My hands began to shake immediately, making the water slosh dangerously inside the glass. Me? Why me my God? “Me? But he is breaking things!” I whispered, eyes wide with dread."

“We are all too scared to enter, but you are new. Who knows?" Sarah said quickly, taking large steps away from me. My eyes even widened. Out of everyone that is here. Why does it have to be me?! I cry internally. “If he does not take it right now, he will destroy the whole suite and someone could get hurt. Go!”

Without waiting for my answer, Sarah and the other maids quickly turned around and practically ran in the opposite direction, leaving me with Maya in the Grand hallway.

I bit my lower lip and looked at Maya. She was unconsciously biting her fingernails, her face drained of color. She looked like she was about to cry.

Without another word, I turned toward the huge, imposing doors of the king's suite. Another loud, violent crash echoed from inside, followed by a low swallowed hard. I looked down at the small porcelain cup on the silver tray.

My legs felt like jelly, but I forced myself to move forward. I took a deep, shaky breath, and slowly pushed the king's bedroom door open.

I stepped inside and eased the door shut behind me. The click of the latch sounded too loud in the sudden quiet.

I quietly slipped off my shoes. The room wasn't filled with rage. It was filled with grief. Dark wood, high ceilings, heavy curtains pulled shut against the daylight. A shattered vase lay in pieces near the window. The air smelled of smoke and spilled wine. For all its size, for all its wealth, the room felt empty. Hollow. Like someone merely survived here instead of living.

He was standing near the far wall, back to me, shoulders rigid.

“Get out." He roared and the sound made me jolt. A wine bottle sailed past me and shattered against the door, red liquid splashing across the wood and pooling on the floor at my feet.

I didn't move. I don't know where the courage came from. Every instinct in my body told me to run. But my feet stayed planted on the cold floor, and I stood there, holding the tray, waiting.

He noticed. Slowly, he lifted his icy blue eyes until they met mine.

The chandelier caught his face, his jaw cut like a blade, his features brooding in a way that made him almost unbearably handsome even now. His scent clung in the air, cedarwood and crisp winter air.

His eyes swept over me, from head to toe, before returning to my face. Looking at me the way someone looked at an object they weren't sure was worth the trouble.

“It was you." His voice was low, controlled in a way his temper clearly wasn't, and it sent a strange jolt through me anyway.

“Yes, Your Majesty." My hands trembled around the tray.

He said nothing for a long moment. Just looked at me, his gaze pinned in place like I was something to be studied rather than someone standing in his room.

“Time for my medicine, right?" he muttered.

“Yes, Your Majesty."

I glanced at the path between us. Broken glass littered the floor, catching the light in small, sharp glints.

“No." His voice cut through the room before I'd even taken a step to go around it. “You walk through it."

I froze, sure I'd misheard him.

“If you can't," he said, “you can go home. Tonight."

Instead a wave of anger rose inside me. I hated him. I hate that the man who had offered me a way out of my miserable life was now asking me to bleed just to deliver his medicine. But I thought of everything waiting for me if I walked back out that door with nothing to show for it, and I knew I wasn't leaving. I was not ready to give up.

I stepped onto the glass.

Pain exploded through my foot as the glass bit into my flesh. It shot up my leg with every step until I was standing in front of him, tray steady despite everything.

Something flickered across his face. Surprise? It was gone before I could be sure I'd imagined it.

“I like your energy," he said, and took the porcelain cup and drank the medicine in one gulp.

As he returned the cup, I turned and walked out, every step back across the broken glass sending fire up my leg. I didn't look back. But I could feel his eyes on me the whole way, and it stayed with me. When I reached my shoes I picked them up, and carefully walked out and shut the door behind me.

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