She’s looking right at me, Amilia thought, stunned. Even with her title, and a rank equivalent to baroness, Amilia still had a hard time returning the stare of even the lowest-ranking nobles, but this girl was looking right at her.

“You can tell me if they aren’t. I know what it’s like to—” She stopped, realizing the maid would not believe her. “I understand new servants can be picked on and belittled by the others.”

“I’m getting along fine, milady,” she said.

Amilia smiled, trying to set her at ease. “I didn’t mean to suggest you weren’t. I’m very pleased with you. I just know it can be hard sometimes when you start out in a new place. I want you to know that I can help if you’re having trouble.”

“Thank you,” she said, but Amilia heard the suspicion in her voice.

Having a noble offer to help with bullying peers was probably a shock to the girl. If it had been her, Amilia would have thought it a trap of some kind, a test perhaps to see if she would speak ill of others. If she admitted to problems, the noble might have her removed from the palace. Under no circumstances would Amilia have admitted anything to a noble, no matter how kindly the woman might have presented herself.

Amilia instantly felt foolish. There was a division between nobles and commoners, and for good or ill, she was now on the other side. The conditioning that separated the two was far too entrenched for her to wipe away. She decided to stop tormenting the poor girl and return to her work. Just then, however, the maid put down the scrub brush and stood.

“You’re Lady Amilia, is that right?”

“Yes,” she replied, surprised at the sudden forwardness.

“You’re the chief secretary to the empress?”

“How well informed you are. It’s good that you’re learning your way around. It took me quite some time to figure out—”

“How is she?”

Amilia hesitated. Interrupting was very inappropriate, and it was incredibly bold to inquire so bluntly about Her Eminence. Amilia was touched, however, by her concern for the welfare of Modina. Perhaps this girl was unaccustomed to interacting with the gentry. She was likely from some isolated village that had never seen a visiting noble. The unnerving way she held Amilia’s stare revealed she had no experience with proper social etiquette. Edith Mon would waste no time beating those lessons into her.

“She’s fine,” Amilia replied. Then, as a matter of habit, she added, “She was ill, and still is, but getting better every day.”

“I never see her,” the maid went on. “I’ve seen you, the chancellor, the regents, and the lord chamberlain, but I never see her in the halls or at the banquet table.”

“She guards her privacy. You have to understand that everyone wants time with the empress.”