Page 44 of Maid for the Alien Prince

“Have a nice night?” I asked with a glint in my eye.

The benefit of having at least one person knowing the truth was that I could still gossip with her about my activities… even if I didn’t want her to spread the information among the other servants.

When I clocked eyes on her, I spilled the coffee on the floor in shock. Her eyes were red and bulging—from crying, I thought—but it was the rest of her face that struck me.

Her cheeks were swollen, black and blue, and her hair was dirty.

“Come sit down!” I said, leading her to the kitchen table.

She was slow with her movements, just as I had been earlier with my hip, only for her it was her entire body. She could barely walk. When she sat down on the hard bench, she flinched; no doubt she had similar bruises on her ass.

I grabbed a dish cloth, ran it under the cold tap, and gently pressed it to her face. “Did you have an accident?” I said. “What happened?”

Emma shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I… I don’t want to talk about it…”

Her voice was broken and cracked as she struggled to form the words around her swollen cheeks. She still had blood on her uniform.

I peered at the other servants, who saw Emma and instantly pulled their eyes away. Either they knew the truth or they wanted to avoid it. I didn’t need to worry about creating a false story for them to focus on after all, I thought, as Emma had come with her own already.

“What happened? You can tell me.”

“It was him!” a thunderous voice said behind me.

The Cook’s flabby arms wobbled as she shook her head, her hands curled into fists on her hips.

“Him? Him who?”

“Ges, of course! Every so often, another girl turns up, face swollen, tears streaming down her cheeks. We all know what happened but there’s sweet FA we can do about it.”

I looked to Emma for confirmation. She turned her face away, and it was all the confirmation I needed.

Searing, white-hot anger formed in the pit of my stomach. Ges was not only a creep, but a twisted, sadistic fuck. Scum without any sense of kindness at all.

It was one thing to be stealing from under Rayaw’s nose—it was another to do something like this.

I bolted to my feet.

“And where do you think you’re going?” the Cook said.

“I have to tell someone about this. I need to do something.”

“And who are you going to tell? No one will listen. You think no one has complained before?”

Rayaw would listen to me, I thought. Surely, he wouldn’t want this on his conscience?

Then I recalled how close Rayaw and Ges were, and how he wouldn’t even be in this palace if it wasn’t for Ges…

But he had stood up to him last night when it came to me. Would he do so again, for his servants? For what was right?

A rock formed in the pit of my stomach as I realized I couldn’t be one hundred percent certain how he would react.

I shook my head. I still had to try.

“There is something useful you can do,” the Cook said. “You can get her to the bathroom, get her cleaned up, and dressed in a new uniform.”

“She can’t work like this!” I said, aghast.

“She can and she will,” the Cook said, her chins nodding along with her head. “This is not the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last either. Get used to it if you want to continue working here and be prepared for when your turn finally comes.”

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