The Lycan Prince Maid

"The most important rule is never to address or initiate a talk with the royals.

You are at the bottom of the hierarchy, and you should act like that.

If a royal member orders something, you provide it.

Never look a royal in the eyes or else meet the consequences."

"You will learn the rest as you work, but these three rules are what you should live by, or else death for you and your clan."

"Oh, wow," I murmured.

"You there..."

What is she pointing at me?

I looked around to be sure I was imagining things.

"You! The one turning" I looked at her, a question burning through my eyes at her.

"Step forward, your name?"

"Gina," I answered.

"So, Gina, share with us what you were mumbling about."

I was shocked. She heard me?

"Oh yes, I did," she replied.

Can she read minds, too?

She replied, "I can't read your mind, Gina, but your thoughts are clearly written on your face."

"Let this be a lesson for you all: never speak unnecessarily. I will hear, if I can, the royal family can too."

She turned to me, "As for you, you were supposed to serve the royals directly, but I can see that you are not suitable."

"As punishment for your unruliness, you will be assigned to kitchens as a scullery maid."

A scullery maid, what does that mean? Is that bad?

An alarm banged loudly in my head, especially after the reaction of Lila when the lady's maid pronounced my punishment. Lila's eyes went wide, then switched back to their dull look. I almost didn't catch it.

"Lila, take Gina to the kitchens, I am sure they are in need of her," she announced with sternness.

Without a word, I was dragged along by an inexpressive Lila.

I followed her down a narrow staircase, then it opened to a much larger hallway that smelled divine; my stomach grumbled at the assault of delicious scents. I haven't eaten since I came into this world.

"You'd better learn to control yourself, you have been downgraded to the lowest of maids, and it will take a miracle for you to survive here or to ever be promoted. So, learn fast and keep your head down," Lila stated as she walked ahead of me.

I looked at her, shocked by how much she said.

That was the longest words of advice anyone had ever spoken to me personally since I got into this body, but the bluntness of her words and tone covered the care in them.

We got to a massive kitchen that was as large as a penthouse space; I saw people in chef's clothes manning the cookers and maids going to and fro, lifting heavy items.

My eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

"Peter!" Lila yelled above the hubbub of kitchen noise.

"Hey, Lila!" A clean-shaven, shaved rotund man wearing a chef's hat and robe appeared in front of us.

"Peter, this is the new maid the lady assigned to work here; make good use of her."

Peter stared at me and said, "A Human," with an expression that looked like he tasted something bitter.

"Yes, a human," Lila replied.

He sighed, "What's your name?"

I replied, "Gina."

"OK, follow me."

He took me to the extreme end of the kitchen.

"See, that's Mary, she will tell you what to do."

After pointing out to me a lousy auburn-haired maid, he turned and left without any proper introduction.

Wearing my big girl panties, I stepped forward to the busy maid.

"Hey, Mary," the maid washing the dishes, turned to me. "Hey," she replied, turning to face me with a kind smile.

"I'm Gina. Peter said, I should meet with you, you will show me what to do."

"Oh, I see, hello Gina, well, we wash the plates here and take them over there for use."

That was how my new career as a kitchen maid began.

I had no complaints, at least it was less intense than in my past life, and hopefully I don't get killed washing a few dishes...

By evening, all I had eaten was a bun with thick porridge that Mary brought.

How could I be working in a kitchen and yet so hungry and exhausted? If I wasn't washing dishes, I was hauling crates of ingredients, wiping stainless counters, or dodging the chefs yelling for more seasonings.

For a place that looked like a medieval palace from the outside, the inside ran like a high-end 21st-century restaurant. There were industrial refrigerators, electric mixers, sous-vide machines, and more stainless steel than a Manhattan hospital.

"Don't stare, Gina," Mary warned as she caught me staring at Peter, the chef working the grill with practiced ease. "They don't like humans staring at them, especially when you are looking lost like that."

I snorted faintly. "Too late."

Mary bit her lip like she wanted to smile but thought better of it. "Just...try not to stand out.

I understand her kindness, but that was easier said than done when everyone here had a wolf side except me.

Every time a Lycan walked past, the air shifted, like static right before lightning. Their sense of presence is high; even the low-ranked wolves had an unusual weight in their footsteps, like the ground knew who its masters were.

This world is truly strange.

Mary had explained everything the night before when I collapsed beside her during the break: the so-called Lycans were superior in strength and influence, and the wolves were beneath them; still, humans or wolf-less humans are at the very bottom.

Even with this hierarchical system, the royal family stood above them all: the King, the Queen, and their only son, Prince Caleb. "So, you all bow to their orders and just grovel?" I asked. She looked at me strangely, as if I had spoken blasphemy.

"You'll learn quickly," Mary replied and continued to scrub the pots beside me.

By the third day, I was getting used to the work. I wake up as early as 5am and rest by 10pm.

I was too tired to think about anything or formulate an escape plan to leave this prison.

Maybe tomorrow an opportunity will present itself...