Alfred, the butler, led my flustered ass into the hall.
"Madam, this way."
He took me to the second-floor master suite. Massive space. I stood in the middle, watching him go, clueless.
The bathroom door swung open.
A girl in a maid's gear stepped out.
Young, maybe early twenties. Round face with baby fat, faint freckles.
She hurried over and curtsied.
"Hello, madam." Anna's voice chimed, full of youthful spark. "I'm Anna. Anna Petrova. From today, I'm your personal maid. I'll handle your daily needs."
Relief hit me. At least someone here seemed human.
"Hi, Anna." I forced a friendly smile. "Just call me Harper."
She grinned sweetly and pointed to the bathroom. "Bath's ready, madam. Madam Olga said the bride must wash off all dust before bed. Orlov tradition."
I nodded. "Thanks. I need out of this dress first."
It was strangling me.
"Of course, I'll help." She undid the back.
When the heavy fabric dropped, I exhaled long.
I stepped into the bathroom. After the chaos, the luxury barely registered.
I was beat. Soaked for an hour until the heat eased my aches.
Toweled off, I came out wrapped up, but my old clothes were gone from the rack.
"Anna?" I called. "Where's my stuff?"
She scampered in, holding a tray lined with red velvet.
"Oh, those old things?" She chirped. "Butler took them. Said they've served their purpose. Not fitting for your new status."
"What?" My eyes widened. "They threw them out? What do I wear?"
"Don't worry. Madam Olga prepared your battle gear." Anna bit her lip, stifling a grin, and presented the tray like a crown. "Tonight, this is it."
I looked down.
Blood rushed to my face.
That wasn't clothes.
Black straps linked palm-sized lace scraps. Barely there, see-through. Skimpier than red-light window displays.
"You kidding?" I clutched the towel, staringat Anna.
She giggled but shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, madam. Can't defy Madam Olga."
That sly old fox.
