The strange artefact seems alive as it glows kaleidoscope colors inside the palm of my hand.

My fever died last night. After eating a rather luxurious breakfast—that appeared as though it was right from a fairytale banquet—-I escape into the gardens again.

My legs take me to a maze, where I lose myself inside the greenery on purpose, in hopes of gaining more time to think alone…before the manor’s staff can find me.

I've yet to meet Hazel’s parents. From what I’ve gathered from the whispers in the manor, it seems they are out for a meeting of some sorts. I am grateful they aren’t home yet, these past two days have already been quite a lot.

In the gardens, twittering birds soar above in the swaying trees. I stare down at the glass star whose edges have been sealed within a gold frame, hung around my neck. Within it, colors are shifting and ever-changing from dark maroons to lighter violets then blues. I can't make sense of what this strange item is meant to be, yet, I feel…connected to it, somehow. I want to ask my maid about it, however I would also rather not raise her suspicions any further: it’s clear this  item likely belonged to Hazel, considering how it was on display for all to see in her bedroom. But… My nose scrunches up into a cringe, my brows furrow as I continue to observe the artefact. What does it do?

I turn the artifact around, then snicker to myself. “Wouldn't it be funny if  this were some magical item and I were a mage?” I bring the shimmering star up to the light of the sun, yet… “That can't be right…” The star’s insides turn black, and I freeze. My eyes widen. “Can it?”

“Hazel! There you are!”

“What—” I turn my head toward the voice that calls out to me, then drop the artifact on instinct. The star hangs around my neck once more, lifeless, the darkness inside it gone. The sight of my maid—Ana-Lea, I heard the gardener call her this morning—running to me is the first thing I see once I blink again. “Oh,” I say without giving it much thought, “you found me.”

“Quickly,” Ana-Lea says, before she grabs my wrist and tugs me toward her—toward the maze’s exit. “The Madam and Sir have returned.” There is a nervous quiver in her voice. “If you are not where you need to be by the time they enter the manor, they will…” She trails off as we continue to move. I expect my maid to either elaborate, or continue with her explanation, but she remains silent and does not speak another word.

So… I tilt my head to stare at her better, then ask, “What will my parents do?”

Ana-Lea squeezes my hand. I notice the way her jaw tightens, when she grits her teeth together. “They will punish you, Hazel, as they always do.” Her voice sounds empty, devoid of approval for whatever punishment she speaks of. “So, let us go home…” When her eyes meet mine her gaze is full of sorrow, and oddly enough, compassion, too. “All right?”

I don't need to ask more questions to understand the severity of the situation. And now… it suddenly makes sense, why such a young child would think to punish her maid for any small transgression. Hazel… I think to myself with my head lowered, I stare at the gravel that crunches under my boots. Your life wasn’t as easy as it seemed, was it?

I don’t know why, but I feel some sort of kinship with her hardships.

As we make our way out of the maze, I look up now, to passing clouds in the sky abovehead. I had hoped this life would be full of the riches it seemingly had to offer, but of course, nothing is ever that simple, is it? 

I gulp. My pulse rises to my throat as we near the manor. I grip the glass star between my fingers, and hold onto Ana-Lea’s hand just as tightly.

Not too far away, the sound of a carriage and horse hooves fill the air. The two of us quickly rush inside, through a secret, back door reserved for the manor’s servants. Ana-Lea leads me through a corridor I don't remember ever seeing before. “I know it's not as fancy as what you're used to, Hazel,” she tells me, as she holds up a candlelit lantern to light the servant’s halls, that have started to decay with mold, “but it is the quickest way to get to your bedroom without running into anyone else. So, please, bear with me.”

I nod, silent. I start to wonder if these paths are the ones she must walk every day, and why she cannot step through the sunlight beside us. When we finally make it to my bedroom, Ana-Lea brushes my hair down, because she says mother doesn’t appreciate when it is unruly like fire. “But I think you look fierce, Hazel, worry not,” she tells me with a smile; and even if it is a small gesture, I feel this is her way of rebelling against her Madam without quite stepping out of line.

When we are done, I dismiss her and thank her for finding me in time—my maid wishes me luck, and… something tells me she doesn't want to leave me be.

But I assure her. “I will be fine.”