Chapter 101: Please Save A Servant

Eiravelle was taking a morning walk in the eastern’s palace small garden. The garden was a quiet sanctuary, tucked away from the main thoroughfares of the palace, and it had become Eiravelle’s favorite place to escape the weight of her thoughts.

The morning air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of jasmine and something sweeter that she could not name, and the sun was just beginning to peek over the walls, casting long golden shadows across the grass. Birds sang in the branches of the small trees that lined the path, their voices were bright and cheerful, and the world felt, for a brief moment, at peace.

Saye walked beside her, ensuring that she was assisted and that whatever she needed will be given. The servant’s presence was steady and reassuring, a constant reminder that Eiravelle was not alone, that she had someone who cared about her wellbeing.

"Lady Eiravelle, you tell me if you’re tired, okay? I can ask Jily, Baley, or Ana to get you the things you need." Saye said, and she was clearly worried. The servant’s brow was furrowed, her eyes scanning Eiravelle’s face for any sign of discomfort, and her hands hovered at her sides as though she was ready to catch the omega if she stumbled.

She had been like this ever since Eiravelle had entered her seventh month, hovering and fretting and generally making a nuisance of herself, though Eiravelle was too kind to say so.

"Haha, Saye, please... Calm down. I’m okay, and this is necessary for me because I am pregnant. It’s not like I’m running on a marathon." Eiravelle giggled, and Saye was still worried but she nodded and trusted Eiravelle. The omega’s laugh was light and warm, a sound that had become more frequent in recent weeks, and it eased some of the tension in Saye’s shoulders.

Eiravelle had changed since the celebration. She was still quiet, still gentle, but there was a new strength in her, a new confidence that had not been there before. She walked with her head held higher now, her hand resting on the curve of her belly, and she no longer looked like she was waiting for the world to crush her. She looked like she was ready to face it.

"Sorry, my lady. I don’t know anything about pregnancy or health." Saye said, and she frowned. The admission was quiet, almost ashamed, and it made Eiravelle’s heart ache.

Saye had been with her for months now, had cared for her through the worst of her pregnancy, had held her hand through the tears and the fears and the sleepless nights. And yet, she still felt inadequate. She still felt like she was not enough.

Eiravelle noticed and stop at her tracks. "Saye, do you want to learn how to read and write?" Eiravelle asked, and Saye was taken aback by the sudden question. The servant blinked, her mouth was opening slightly, and she stared at Eiravelle as though the omega had just suggested she fly to the moon.

"Lady Eiravelle, why are you asking all of a sudden?" Saye asked, her voice cautious. She did not understand what had prompted the question, did not understand why her lady was looking at her with such earnest, hopeful eyes.

"Just yes or no." Eiravelle said, but she’s not angry or anything. She’s not even rushing Saye when Saye think about the answer to her question. She simply stood there, her hand was resting on her belly, her gaze steady and patient, and she waited. After a long pause, she nodded and looked at Eiravelle.

"I do, my lady. But who am I to think of such thing when I’m only a servant." Saye said, and the words were heavy with resignation. She had spent her entire life being told what she could and could not do, being reminded of her place, being taught that ambition was a sin for someone like her.

She had accepted it. She had made peace with it. But hearing Eiravelle ask that question, hearing the genuine offer in her voice, made something inside her stir.

Eiravelle shook her head and held Saye’s hand. The omega’s grip was warm and firm, and it made Saye’s breath catch in her throat. "Then I shall teach you how to read and write. Everybody deserves that. Servant or not, everyone must learn basic education." Eiravelle said, and Saye smiled at Eiravelle’s words. The smile was small, hesitant, but it was real. It was the smile of someone who had been given something she had never dared to hope for.

"Okay, my lady. If you don’t mind then I shall not decline." She said, and both of them smile at each other softly. The moment was quiet, intimate, a small pocket of warmth in the cool morning air, and for a brief second, the world felt kind.

It was until Jily arrived, screaming Eiravelle’s name. "My lady! My Lady!" She rush toward Eiravelle and stopped in front of her. The servant was breathless, her chest heaving, her face flushed with exertion and panic. She had clearly run all the way from wherever she had come from, and her eyes were wide with a fear that made Eiravelle’s heart clench.

"Jily, calm down, what happened?" Eiravelle asked, her voice was steady despite the sudden spike of anxiety in her chest. She released Saye’s hand and stepped forward, her hand still resting on her belly, and she looked at Jily with concern.

"My lady~ Haah! T-There... Haah!" Jily have to calm herself down, then gulp before raising her gaze. She took several deep breaths, her hands pressed against her knees, and when she finally spoke, her voice was trembling.

"Lady Herra was punishing a servant... Her guards are using their canes to beat her up, please help her!" Jily said, and the words hit Eiravelle like a physical blow.

"No, lady Eiravelle had nothing to do with it. Lady Herra is simply just disciplining the servant, you know that it was the rules here in the palace." Saye said, and Jily was clearly worried. The servant’s voice was sharp, dismissive, and there was a note of warning in it.

She was trying to protect Eiravelle, trying to keep her from getting involved in something that could be dangerous, but her words only made Eiravelle’s heart sink.

When Eiravelle heard Saye, she felt a profound sadness wash over her. She had known that the palace was a place of cruelty, had experienced it herself, had felt the sting of the nobles’ contempt and the cold indifference of those who were supposed to protect her.

But she had not known this. She had not known that servants were being beaten for something as small as taking a piece of bread. She had not known that the people who cared for her, who cleaned her chambers and prepared her meals and helped her walk when her belly grew too heavy, were starving and fighting for their own survival.

"Saye, don’t say that. Servants are here to serve, they’re not slaves to be flogged." Eiravelle sigh and looked at Jily. The words were quiet but firm, and there was a steel beneath them that made Saye’s eyes widen. "What was the crime of this servant that lady Herra decided to punish her to such length?" Eiravelle asked, her voice steady despite the anger that was beginning to build in her chest.

"It is said that the servant have been eating food from Lady Herra’s kitchen without permission. She only took some bread and now they’re punishing her." Jily answered, and Eiravelle’s heart broke.

The words were simple, almost mundane, but they carried a weight of injustice that made Eiravelle’s hands clench into fists at her sides. A piece of bread. A servant had taken a piece of bread because she was hungry, because she was starving, and now she was being beaten for it.

Saye sigh, clearly annoyed. "Jily, lady Herra is justified to discipline that servant since she stole food from her kitchen without explicit permission. We all knew the rules, you must not eat since servants had their own food in the servant sect." Saye said, and Eiravelle just listened with worriness in her heart.

The servant’s voice was weary, as though she was explaining something obvious to a child, and there was a note of resignation in it that made Eiravelle’s chest ache.

"Saye, you are aware... The servant sect only give small portion of food to servants. If they don’t serve any omegas in the harem, they’re starving!" Jily said, and Eiravelle was shocked to hear this revelation. The words were a dam breaking, a truth that had been hidden for too long, and they spilled out of Jily’s mouth with a force that made Saye take a step back.

There are only thirty concubines in the palace, but there are a lot of servants running the entire palace. The math was simple, devastating, and Eiravelle felt the weight of it settle into her bones.

"That is... Just bad... Servants are working all day yet they eat small portions of food?" Eiravelle said, her voice was barely above a whisper. She thought about the servants who had served her meals, who had cleaned her chambers, who had helped her bathe and dress and walk.

She thought about the way they had smiled at her, the way they had always seemed so grateful for even the smallest kindness. And she realized, with a sickening lurch in her stomach, that they had been hungry the entire time. They had been starving, and she had not noticed.

"My lady, please don’t mind them." Saye said, and her voice was almost pleading. She was afraid. Afraid of what Eiravelle might do, afraid of what might happen if her lady got involved in something that was not her concern. The palace was a dangerous place. The nobles were cruel and powerful, and they did not take kindly to anyone who challenged their authority.

"Saye, are you happy that you are here in my palace, eating the food I provide? Are you happy to simply turn a blind eye to others that are starving?" Eiravelle asked, and Saye was speechless. The questions were simple, but they cut deep, and Saye felt the weight of them pressing down on her chest.

Her mouth opened, but then it closed. Saye had no words to say anymore since she doesn’t know how to answer Eiravelle’s questions. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to say that she was grateful, that she was happy, that she would never question the way things were. But she could not. Because it was not true. She was not happy. She had never been happy. She had simply learned to survive.

"Jily... Take me to lady Herra’s palace." Eiravelle said, and her voice was calm. The words were not a request. They were a command, and both Saye and Jily knew that there was no point in arguing. Eiravelle had made up her mind. She was going to help that servant. She was going to do what was right, no matter the cost.